Samuel entered the great room and approached Cirrus. His son was similar to him in many ways. He shared Samuel’s olive-tinged skin and dark hair. Though, where Samuel was gangly, Cirrus was proportionate. He didn’t share Samuel’s long limbs. His body was more equal in size and shape. At sixteen, Cirrus was shy of Samuel’s height, making him tall indeed. Whether finishing puberty would put him taller, they would have to wait and see. Years of martial training had also seen him fill out more than Samuel ever was. Samuel had always avoided fighting if he could, and so he had never tried to make himself a stronger person. With his enhanced strength from being a True, he could out-match pretty much anyone alive today. His son, would not have supernatural strength, so Samuel did his best to make sure he had his own natural strength to help him.
“Hello father,” Cirrus said, without glancing up from his book.
“Good evening Cirrus. How are you today?” They both knew it was a meaningless query.
“All is well, father.” Cirrus answered distractedly, still not removing himself from the book.
“There is something we need to discuss.” Samuel made sure to impart the importance of the comment in his tone, and Cirrus closed the book immediately, not marking the page. Samuel knew the boy’s memory was almost equal his own, and he could easily pick up the book in a couple of months and know exactly which page he had been reading. Cirrus set the book on one of the end tables, flanking the sofa, and looked at him.
Cirrus had a humble face. It lacked the length of Samuel’s, and was fuller and rounder. Flat-nosed and full lips made him appear a little bit like an oaf. His eyes were sharp though, close examination of those would quickly clue you in to the intelligence of the boy. Samuel thought back to the day Cirrus complained about his facial features and how they made him seem stupid. He had assured Cirrus it was a blessing. If people thought you were stupid without knowing you, you will always surprise them. And a person surprised is a person vulnerable. Intelligence should never be underestimated, and when it was, it became as powerful as a loaded gun.
Cirrus waited patiently. He had learned early on that to try and rush Samuel with harassing questions swiftly led to punishment. And it was punishment Samuel doled out quickly and effectively. Even rebellious as children usually are could not last long under the unforgiving lessons Samuel imparted without remorse or restraint.
“There is something I need to tell you about. Something which might be of import later in your life.” Samuel began, taking his suit’s jacket off and folding it carefully and putting it on the edge of the sofa.
“It is possible this will never happen, but in case it does. I would be remiss to you, and to her, if I didn’t explain some things to you.” He knew he was being purposely vague, and in part it was because he was unsure of how to explain this, or how it would be taken.
Cirrus continued to wait patiently for him to get to the point. It was a testament to the lessons he had learned, that the boy had yet to interrupt, though there were clearly questions he would already have forming in his mind. Not least of which was why it appeared his father was undressing in front of him, as Samuel had proceeded to also remove his dress shirt.
“You are aware of your ability to heal at an accelerated rate?” Raising his eyebrows in question, Samuel folded his shirt, awaiting a response.
Cirrus nodded, eyes following Samuel’s movements.
“Are you aware we share the ability?”
Samuel asked this not truly knowing the answer. To his knowledge, he had never been injured in front of Cirrus, so it shouldn’t have been apparent. However, there were other aspects of the healing Cirrus might have clued in to. If he was very observant, and very intuitive.
Cirrus nodded again, and Samuel smiled in pride.
“Good.” Samuel began to remove his belt and he allowed his trousers to fall to the ground where he collected them and proceeded to fold them. He felt odd, doing this in front of his son, but he assumed his son would not believe him when he told him and would therefore be forced to shift to prove it, and he didn’t want to destroy a fine suit.
“The reason we have this ability is because we are unlike other people. We carry something within our bloodstream others do not.”
“This is why I have told you under no circumstances should you ever go to a hospital. A hospital would find out about this, and you, and me would not be safe.”
Cirrus watch him raptly. Clearly interested in where this was going. Still refraining from asking questions that must be running through his young mind.
“What we carry in our bloodstream is known as Lycanthropy.” Cirrus started at this. He clearly recognized the word, and since the world had distorted the reality of Lycanthropy over the years, he could understand his son’s reaction.
“It is not what it has been portrayed as in the movies and in literature, son. Lycanthropy is not a madness, nor is it a ‘disease’ as well. It was something that was created, and gifted to a chosen few.”
“What you have, is a dormant form. You can’t shift into a Were-form. In fact, you will most likely never transform… ever. The only way it would ever happen is upon my death, and the awakening of the one who created it in the first place. Neither of which has happened in two millennia.”
Samuel paused for a moment and watched as what he had said dawned on Cirrus. When Cirrus raised questioning eyes to Samuel, he nodded his permission for him to speak.
“So,” Cirrus began. “You mean to tell me you have been alive for 2,000 years? How is that possible? And who is this person that created it, and why and how would she be awakened? And why are you nearly naked?”
Samuel quirked a smile at his son. All excellent questions.
“The answer to your first question is yes. I have been alive for over 2,000 years. How is it possible? Well, that is harder to explain.” Samuel sat down and took a moment to collect his thoughts on how best to say it.
“When a body ages, it does so because the cells in the body break down, they are slowly destroyed. Our ability to heal rapidly, offsets this damage slightly. You less than me, for reasons I will come back to. Our body’s cells break down naturally over time, but also partially because our body is active.”
Samuel paused for a moment to study his son. He was clearly paying attention, but given the quick intelligence he had, it was obvious this still made little sense to him. So, Samuel tried a different track.
“Think of it as a car. A car will break down over time. It will break down quicker if it is used more. The more wear and tear a car goes through the faster it will reach the end of its life. Now if you were to keep the car in storage, and only use it occasionally, it would take a lot longer to break down, right?”
Cirrus nodded.
“O.k. well now imagine if while you put that car in storage, anything that was damaged, or worn out while you did use it was repaired and fixed. You would essentially never have a car that would die. That is how my body works. Now there are of course other things that happen to people, like disease or sicknesses, but as you may or may not have noticed, those do not happen to us. Our bodies do not suffer natural maladies, as others do.”
Cirrus was nodding his head slightly in understanding. The analogy making sense to him.
“So occasionally, throughout the years, you ‘rested’? Somehow, slowing your metabolism to a point it was slower than the speed of your healing?”
Samuel was once again impressed by his son’s ability to reason things out.
“That is correct.”
“As to the person who created this, well, it was a long time ago… a different time. Kestrel was a Druid. Not like those supposed druids you might read about that gather at Stonehenge these days. These were the spiritual leaders of the Celts. They were powerful, and they had powerful spells. They used their power and their spells to protect nature, and the Celtic way of life. Kestrel believed civilization was a plague, if allowed to spread would harm and eventually destroy nature. Much like the environment
alist of today.”
“Her beliefs were not shared by many, including the Elder. Knowing the longer it took for her to convince the others of the truth, the more damage civilization would do, she took matters into her own hands.”
“She created the first Lycans, the Trues. These she used to create an army of Lycans and went to war. A war she lost. However, before she lost, she had used a spell which would ensure she would come back, and when she did, the descendants of the first Trues would once again become Lycanthropes. It’s rather a complicated story, but since it has yet to happen yet, and possibly never will, is part of the reason you will most likely never be a true lycanthrope. Also, since I am still alive, if she was to come back now, I would already occupy the role, and as such you wouldn’t change.”
“As to how she would be awakened? Well Kestrel put a contingency into her spell that when the last of the stones of Stonehenge were to fall, she would be awakened.”
Cirrus stared at him for a moment before asking.
“So why have you not toppled Stonehenge then?”
Another excellent question, Samuel thought. Of course, he had thought to topple Stonehenge and awaken Kestrel, but part of the spell stated, ‘…nature will make the call...” Nature will make the call. Not him. He couldn’t risk it. If he toppled Stonehenge, and it didn’t work, there would be no fixing it. She would never be able to return. No, he couldn’t risk it.
“It wouldn’t had worked, Cirrus. There were aspects of the spell preventing tampering. It must happen naturally. And so, we wait.”
Cirrus examine him closely before saying more.
“While this all seems plausible the way you have said it father. Seems, complete and thorough, and reasonable. It still is impossib…”
Cirrus didn’t finish, as right before his eyes, Samuel shifted. His body took on a more rounded form. Skin transformed before his eyes to reptile-like scales. Samuel’s physical form elongated, torso stretching, merging with, and extending behind to form a tail. Neck melded with body and head, arching forward into snake-like head. Within seconds, a hybrid, part snake, part man was towering over Cirrus.
“…ible.” Cirrus managed to finish finally. Staring with a mixture of wonder, fear, and disbelief.
Samuel had known it would take this to convince his son. He couldn’t have shifted right away though. He needed to set the groundwork for understanding in his son’s mind. Without the background, both the history and the science of it, his son would have most likely run from fear, or attempted to attack him when he had shifted. Now, his son understood what he was seeing, and why he was seeing it, which in turn would help him understand it.
“That…that is incredible.” Cirrus stammered. “So, you are a Were-snake? I have never heard of that type. Werewolf, obviously, I have heard of. I have even heard mention of bear and tiger. But never snake.”
Samuel frowned at this. Even though he had gone to great lengths to erase information about himself, it still irked him the ones people knew about still were Sylvanis’ lackeys. The victors truly do write history.
“Yes. Well. There were others as well. Eight total. Four of us fought for Kestrel. Four for the opposing side.” Samuel shifted back, and began to put his clothes back on.
“Understand this, Cirrus. If I were to die, and Kestrel were to return afterwards. You will become like me, and it will be your duty to find Kestrel, and join her, help her continue her fight. That is your legacy.”
“I know you didn’t ask for this, and as I have said, it will most like never come to fruition in your lifetime, but I felt it imperative I inform you in case it did.” Samuel finished dressing and scrutinized his son. It seemed, he was taking this information in stride. He had faith his son would come to grips with this shortly. It was true he was an intellectual, but he was also young and so unburdened by much of the hard truths of life. The cynicism and the rigid thinking which comes with adulthood. As such, he should be able to accept this, though it was fantastical and in many ways unbelievable, regardless of what he saw Samuel do with his own eyes.
Cirrus eventually relaxed in his seat, the tension of the moment had passed, and acceptance had creeped in. To Samuel’s surprise, Cirrus looked at him, nodded, picked his book back up and returned to reading. The matter was closed.
That was a year before he got the call from his informant. A year before he left his son. He hadn’t left him alone. He hired a handler. Someone to stay and watch over Cirrus for as long as he felt it was necessary. At which point, he would contact Samuel and explain why he felt Cirrus no longer needed minding. Samuel would, time permitting, check in on his son. Though he wouldn’t do it so Cirrus would know he was there. He couldn’t. He utterly and completely cut ties with his son. Accounts were set up, and a trust for him which would become his when he turned eighteen, or when the handler felt he was capable of living on his own. If he used it wisely, there was more than enough money to live a life most people only dreamed of. Also, he was armed with the knowledge, at some point, there was always a possibility he might become a full Lycan, and so, at least as Samuel hoped, would continue to keep himself in top shape both physically and mentally.
Since the day he told him he was leaving, he hadn’t spoken to Cirrus. There were no tears, no yelling. It was clear, while Cirrus was not happy about it, he accepted it. In part because he was aware, no matter what he said or did, Samuel would still walk out the door, and any amount of debasing of himself would only make him appear weak in Samuel’s eyes.
This wasn’t the first time he thought about Cirrus since leaving. And now, more so since Kestrel’s awakening. He assumed, when she awoke, because he was still alive, Cirrus would be unaffected, but he couldn’t be sure. The spell was old, and he doubted it had been crafted with the idea one of the original Trues would still be alive.
Contacting the handler, he asked if anything strange had occurred. The handler informed him everything was fine and not to worry. Something in the man’s voice left Samuel with an uneasy feeling. Unfortunately, things moved along steadily with Kestrel, or he would have checked on things himself. He sent one of his informants by the house to check on things. The informant told him he saw the handler several times, come and go from the house, but not Cirrus. He told Samuel while he hadn’t seen Cirrus, the handler did not appear to be distressed or upset, and everything, for the most part, appeared to be normal. Samuel decided to evaluate this information later, but he hadn’t had a chance, yet.
He wondered if he should tell her about Cirrus. Truth is, he didn’t wish her to know about him. While Cirrus’ and his relationship was never one of closeness, he still felt the need to protect his son in some way. And keeping him away from her plans was the best way to do this. Samuel glanced Kestrel’s way, she was still engrossed in her books. No. He didn’t think he would tell her of Cirrus. As far as he could tell, Cirrus was still a carrier of Lycanthropy, but not a lycanthrope. She would have no need of him. There was no way to turn him into a full lycanthrope. Since he carried it, he couldn’t contract it. For all intents and purposes, Cirrus would be useless to Kestrel for her plans. His eyes roamed the cabin once more, stopping to examine Gordon again, then back to Ian, who was still taping his feet to some unheard music.
Ian rested in the soft comfortable chair of the airplane’s cabin, eyes closed as electronic trance music thrummed in his ear. He was aware of eyes on him, but was unsure of whose — probably Samuel, or whatever his name was. Ian was smart enough to realize most of what the man had told him was a lie, which included his name. Not that it mattered overmuch to Ian. He had thrown his lot in with the guy, and it was best not to worry too much about things he couldn’t change.
He doubted it was the new guy on the plane. Gordon Sands, Ian had caught his name. Gordon and he had a lot in common, as Gordon was wealthy, being a doctor, they both were well dressed and attractive middle-aged men but that was where the similarities ended. Gordon was congenial and friendly, but Ian could tell it was a fake smile the ma
n hid behind. It scarcely hid his superiority complex or his masochism.
What scared him more was what they had discussed. Oh sure, he never listened to them when they spoke, but long ago he became curious of Samuel and his dealings. Whenever he could, he would record conversations held around him when he was ‘not listening’ by totally immersing himself in music. Putting on earbuds and playing music, he made it obvious he was listening to music. All the while, the wireless microphone in his watch, and a recorder in his pocket, recorded the conversations. Most times, when he would play back what was said between Samuel and whomever was with him on the plane, it was business.
What Ian heard Samuel and the woman discuss was not business. It was insanity. Some of it he didn’t understand at all. Talk of Trues, and animals. The talk of finding some girl and killing her he understood all too well. This woman they sought was a Druid and a little girl now, a baby, and others would be searching for her as well. He sensed the man, Gordon, was going to help them get this girl. Why they would need a man like Gordon, a doctor from Australia to do this, he wasn’t sure.
They also talked about someone else they sent to Chicago to kill a wolf. A wolf? In Chicago? None of it made sense. Frankly, the whole thing made him wonder if it was time to get out of this business with Samuel. He had completed his job, and done it well. Convinced the world all this money, all this wealth, was his. The world watched him, and ignored Samuel, the way it was supposed to. He had done it well for many years. If he left, he knew it would be with a sizable stipend for continued silence about the arrangement. At least, he believed that was what would happen. After hearing the conversation between Samuel and the woman, he was no longer sure. It seemed Samuel might be the type of guy who understood the only way to ensure silence was if the person could no longer talk.
The Awakening: Part Two (The Lycan War Saga) Page 11
