《The Nether Wolf [CURRENTLY ON HIATUS!]》


 Prologue: I guess Im this storys Little Red Riding Hood.

    "Standing in the middle of the stone corridor was boy sixteen of age, with brown hair cut short, gently resting on his head, framing his thin yet round head without obstructing the view of his gray-blue eyes." That is indeed how I will start the book describing my current experience I thought. Maybe I should also describe my clothing? How about: ¡°The boy¡¯s frame, neither short nor tall, buff, fat or thin was draped by thin, deep brown jacket and long legs by dark blue jeans. On his feet he wore old pair sneakers faded by age, darkened by dirt.¡± Yes, that is sufficiently poetic for a beginning.


    How did I get here? Not really sure. I mean I know when and where it happened but how? Now that evades me. What I know is that after school ended I walked towards home the same route I always take. Sure my attention on the road is not the best with my fall jacket buttoned all the way up and hood on, not to mention my over sized and over priced headphones over my ears, but I''m neither driving motorized nor non-motorized vehicle so it''s not a risk to anybody. Plus the road is familiar and nobody else in particular uses that it, that''s the charm of small towns; always being alone! Not that I''m a loner, I have friends and get along fine with my family. Neither of those things are the point thou.


    The point is that when I walked under a highway bridge like I normally do, instead of coming out from the other side of it, it just kept on going and going. After walking for a minute or two I noticed that the gray, circular concrete walls of the small "tunnel" had turned into white-gray, angular stone walls I now see before me. First thing I did was walk back, but I quickly ran into a wall blocking my passage. I tried pushing it with my full strength but it didn''t even budge, not that I really expected to break through brick walls or dimensional barriers with simple push. So I turned around and kept moving forward till I stopped to wonder how I''m going to cash in with this occurrence. I decided to do it by writing a book when I get home. IF I get home.


    Well, at least everything on me was carried on to the new world that I currently inhabitant, including my cellphone with no reception, my backpack with no food or drinks and my clothes that provide no shelter except from mellow weather of the early fall. I¡¯m definitely going to survive here. At least I decided to wear long sleeved flannel-shirt over my t-shirt so it¡¯s not so bad. And used the school bathroom before leaving, empty bladder is always a plus when embarking on an adventure. After considering options created by my current situation and equipment I conclude that the best course of action is to keep moving forward.


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    The plan of advancing bears it fruit as I step in front of the wooden double doors that declare the end of this tunnel. Stepping through I make my way into a square hall wide enough to hold hundred people with room to spare. It''s made from high quality marble and thus completely white except for rim of gold plating surrounding a rectangle shaped altar in the middle. The altar is flanked both sides by torches apparently bolted to the floor but with no fire burning, the light comes from multiple windows cut in ceiling. On the other side of the hall is a second set of double doors.


    I decide to advance by the right wall of the room, well right wall by my point of view. As I get to the halfway point of the room I see that on the altar is placed a spherical object around the size of baseball, a see-through glass or crystal ball with black liquid or smoke swirling inside. I decide to ignore the Ominous Orb of Obvious Evil held within the golden prongs jutting up from the altar and not to venture inside the ring of gold plating surrounding it. I mean I have seen and read enough of the fantasy-genre to know that touching object seemingly steaming with magical power is a big no for anybody wanting to survive. And walking into a clearly defined area inside of a temple or in presence of magic items is also generally suicidal course of action.


    As I make my way to the other side of the second set of double doors, I''m faced with new tunnel, this time extending on my left and right. On the right is a single door made of metal that seems to be locked as it doesn¡¯t open no matter what I do. So I go to the left and come on top of stairs leading down. My gaze follows the path of the stairs all the way down three or four stories high descent till my sight stop when I see it. Size around that of a bear, slightly longer and little more slender, wolf like beast lying there. As I decide to turn around my movement is stopped by the things own. It rises on all four... on all eights and opens it eyes on pairs of two, up to six crimson red eyes with their gaze burning on me. I don''t have the time to see it bare it fangs, only hear it growl deep and loud as I turn and run. It has climbed the stairs in time it takes me to reach the wooden doors and I see its alabaster fangs ready tear into me. I don''t bother shutting the doors, they don''t have a lock nor is there anything to bar the door in this empty white room. I just run inside the ring of golden floor tiles and see the beast stop on my heels as I enter the ring. I have no idea why I ran inside of the ring, I guess instinct trumps intelligence.

 Chapter 1: The two choices

    It has been only few minutes, maybe three or four since I ran into the protective circle of gold. I have calmed down to the extend of one can calm down after being chased by bloodthirsty beast of unholy terror, but calmed down nonetheless. The fact that it doesn''t cross the line of gold no matter what helps with that, but the fact that it doesn''t seem to be leaving anytime soon keeps me on my toes. Not that it looks that menacing when it''s just lying there on its side, but anytime I even stretch my leg it hones its gaze into me.


    Half an hour passes with no movement from the dogwolfthingie, it just lies there watching as I keep time with my phone. Deciding it is safe here I finally relax fully and start to realize how utterly boring it is. Never did I realize how intense boredom could be, I mean nothing to do, can''t go anywhere. So I do the only thing there is to do to pass the time, my homework.


    4 hours have passed since that decision and I''m quite sure I have done my math homework for the next six months. Couldn''t even listen music from my phone to ease the tedious work for the fear of wasting my only way to tell time or contact anybody. I have begun to envy people who own a separate way to keep time and listen to music from ones cellphone. I decide to take a peek at the wolf, as I have come to conclusion that even if it acts like a dog, it looks more like a wolf so it is a wolf. A completely normal giant-eight-legged-six-eyed-wolf. Yes. It seems to be sleeping so I try to get up and.... it woke up, stares at me and licks it lips. So sensitive, probably likes old-time romance movies I think as I walk around the perimeter of the circle area I''m stuck in. It follows loyally like a shadow on my side.


    5 hours have passed since my decision to do my homework and one hour from the perimeter check and I have moved on to history. Getting fed up with extra lessons and constant watch I''m fully committed to idea of escaping, but how? I''m sure that throwing my books or backpack at it does nothing, trying to run gets me killed and fighting is even faster way down that road. Next plan was to pry loose few of those gold plates to make a movable magic barrier, but as the gold was either poured down molten where it then hardened or magically fused with stone either of those plans would require me to dig through few inches of solid stone and scrape of the gold. Plus if the barrier needs to be a complete circle to work, the moment of my successful prying would also be the moment of my death. So that left the option of breaking one of those lanterns or torches that flank the altar and using it as a weapon.


    Wooden spear, thicker than my thumb rising from the marble floor where it meets the black, iron rack that it is bolted into. Can''t pry that either from the stone, so I decide to break the wooden shaft with force. Bending the torch by pulling with my weight isn''t fast, but it does work after five minutes or so trying, it breaks from the bottom, near the rack and now I have a spear of sorts. I look at the torch head of the thing and see that the heart of the torch is surrounded by a similar rack, more curved, with six vertical spikes and three horizontal rings surrounding them. The heart sits in middle of the rack suspended from the middle ring with four bridges of iron. There is a problem though, the vertical spikes are curved so that they neither point to the top nor the sides, so using the torch as a spear or mace doesn''t work as well as I''d like. They aren''t even that sharp. So it is decided by designing choices that I stab at the wolf with the fractured wooden end that has at least some form of an edge.


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    It does absolutely nothing, the fur of the wolf that I now so closely see is clumped together in triangular clumps that look like scales and from the recoil feel like stone or metal. The demon dog is wearing scale armor, well demon wolf, but that is neither here or there, what matter is that unless I  manage to hit it in the eye it doesn''t do any damage. I originally didn''t aim at the head for the fear of it catching my strike with its mouth and pulling me out of my protective sphere and I''m definitely not risking that now.


    Well at least I know that the hellhou... hellwolf isn''t an illusion made by the Ominous Orb of Obvious Evil, or the O-3 as I now call it, to make me touch it. But with nothing to eat, drink or keep me entertained I might have no choice. I mean I can''t exactly fall asleep within the O-3''s influence circle, as I''ve seen enough movies to know that it would just control my unconscious body to do its bidding.


    This leaves only drastic measures, as I don''t know whether the circle or the orb is responsible for keeping the beast away, I simply must try both of those things. So I grab the torchspear and try pry the orb in the rack for safe, no skin contact delivery system. As the iron rack touches the orb it bursts into fragments that look like drifting ash before slowly disappearing into thin air. Before I even have the time to confirm if the effect spreads I have already chucked the spear off my hands on instinct. It does spread, thankfully not onto the floor I observe as I get a brilliant idea so throw the rapidly degenerating spear towards the wolf. It avoids the spear that disintegrates to nothing before hitting the floor.


    Armed with new knowledge and better plan I break loose the second torch, touch the orb with it and try to hit the wolf. As I mindlessly flail the spear trying to hit the wolf that moves much faster that its size should allow, I notice too late it has tricked me with diagonal movements to leave the protective barrier and the spear is too degenerated to last long enough for me to make it back there. I throw the spear towards the wolf to slow its movement as I turn and run, but it manages to tear my calf half open with its obsidian like claws. I stumble down on the rapidly reddening white floor and claw my way back to the circle. Inside I realize that the wolf hasn''t moved an inch from the spot where it clawed me, purposely letting me crawl inside my safe room. It wants me here, it wants me to touch the orb and with the speed I''m bleeding it''s either that or dying here.

 Chapter 2: Changes

    Cold marble altar behind my back, warm liquid flowing from my left calf and burning gaze of the beast on my face, I got the trifecta of temperatures as I bleed slowly to death. Making my belt into makeshift tourniquet has bought me time to think my options clearly, or as clearly as someone left hazy from anemia can think. Touch the orb, bleed to death or try to stop the bleeding? I have no medical equipment sans my makeshift one and taking of my sock to stuff it into the wound would require me to bend my leg and that is not a good thing now. Not that the sock would really even help. Bleeding to death is not an option I''d choose even if to spite the orb and the wolf. So that just leaves taking the bull from the horns and riding this rodeo to the end.


    As my distracted and rapidly weakening mind wanders to rodeo metaphors I take a look at the wolf, now sitting like a obedient house dog would, even if its shape is disturbed by excessive amount of legs. For the 5-6 hours it would only lie on the floor and only look up to me when I moved my legs or body, now I have its undivided attention. Is he the master of the orb waiting me to throw it to him, or is the master sealed in the orb and the wolf is just a house dog waiting for him to be released? Perhaps the orb is an obstacle to the wolf and he wants me to destroy it? Too many choices to discern the truth from so I stop trying.


    I prop myself half-standing by leaning on the altar and look at the orb. It would be hard to believe that the orb was an entity of good, with it looking like condensed darkness and the fact that it disintegrates everything that touches it. The thought of being slowly broken apart from touching the orb makes me take my distance as far as I can while leaning on the altar. But the choice is made; I have no options but to leave it at the fates to decide. I extend my arm and grab the orb.


    It is not me that breaks apart, but the crystal surrounding the vortex of black. Heavy, pitch black smoke falls down the altar like waterfall from all sides and air is filled with similar particles of those decaying spears. The wolf''s howling is dampened by heavy curtains of that smoke rising, forming a sphere around the altar with me inside. Air grows hot and heavy, hard to breath and my leg begins to throb with pain unlike I have ever felt before. I lose the strength of my muscles and fall down the altar''s side. Trying to lift my arms to guard my face from the ashy particles falling on my face proofs useless and my consciousness begins to fade.


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    I''m woken up by falling raindrops hitting my face. As I gaze up I see that the windows on the ceiling have broken and shattered so that the rain has no problem getting in. Amidst the shards of glass and soot flakes spiraling columns of the black smoke rise towards ceiling. The room is longer white I think as I rise up and notice that the altar, which is supposed to be as tall as my navel is now inch or two under my waistline. Didn''t really take me that much brain power to figure out that the altar didn''t shrink. I grew and warped, my once normal frame now taller than anybody I''ve ever met, even little hunched over, which seems to be my current default state. Shoulders wider apart than ever, even if my body is as slim as it used be before the change.


    I try to find my cellphone to use as a mirror but my possessions seem to have suffered some burning damage, including both my clothes that I was wearing and the stuff I left lying on the floor. My now abnormally slender and long fingers search the remains of my backpack and find the phone, that luckily only has a small crack on the touchscreen screen and some scorching on the sides. As I bring the phone to my face I noticed my fingernails are now more animal, sharper and more angular than before. I can already guess what I will see before I look in the mirror, but the act proofs my expectations, my hair now black, clumped in triangular scales and my red eyes burning. I have indeed been possessed by the wolf.

 Chapter 3: Looking the role

    I keep staring into my reflection, trying to determine if the eyes that I see are my own or that of the wolf. The question seems stupid with me currently in control of my body... Our body, but as I said, it is the current situation and it can change any moment. This goes long enough for it to stop raining and the columns of smoke to die out. I seem to be in control for now.


    The next thing that I worry about is how warped has my image become exactly? I''m tall, but for my pleasant surprise not tall enough leave human measurements behind. Somewhere in little over seven feet tall territory, I conclude using the altar and my old measurements as guide. Then yet again with the rule of error included I could have actually reached eight feet in height. Still possible for human, if little eye catching. I''m slender, but at least it scaled little with the height so I''m not a stick figure, with heavy clothing I should look proportional. Hair is... fine I guess, little weird looking with wild and uncleaned look, but as long as nobody touches it and notices that it''s closer to armor than hair. It is also longer that I had as a human. Skin tone remains same tanned-to-wheat-like-color I had as human with no weird pigmentation, colors or patterns. I guess I paled down a little, but that could also be the shock I''m currently experiencing.


    That leaves only the problem parts, my eyes and mouth. Facial features were warped as a whole by the lengthening process, plus my face did get wider with the scaling, so I look nothing like I used to, but the shape is human. The eyes are red, crimson even to the point that the color is something I don''t think is possible for human eyes to be and when I said that the wolf''s gaze was burning, I meant that there is movement like spiraling flakes of ash in the irises that you don''t really see on humans either. That''s happening in my eyes, so there is no way I pass as human while my eyes are showing. My mouth is fine if I don''t smile or grin, because that causes it to spread half way across my face, from ear to ear, same as opening it full does.Ears themselves seem to be fine, no extra length or absurd angles or generally animal like attributes. Also, I have to keep my lips tightly sealed so that nobody sees my teeth or the fangs they become. So while talking I wear constant, tight half-grin that makes me look like total douche thanks to my now thin lips.  But the eyes can''t be hidden, unless this world is developed enough to have sunglasses, which don''t really help the looking like douche bag thing.


    For now the only things I can do to pass more like human is to shorten my nails, cut my hair and hide my eyes while remembering to keep my mouth shut. Also, getting clothes that aren''t burned to a crisp should also help with the "I''m normal, don''t kill me"-look I''m going for. So I leave behind my smoldering pile of ex-books and ex-backpack and head on to search clothes.


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    Coming to the set of wooden doors, now as burned as my books are, I head left towards the stairs where I met the beast and walk down. There I''m greeted by plethora of doors to choose from, all wooden and decorated with paint and carvings. I try the first on my left and find it locked. Next thing I find is my leg half-lodged in the door when I decided to kick it open. "Gentle" push later I''m more literal than normally when walking through a door. Inside I see small bedroom with a single bed on my right, window on the opposite wall and wardrobe on my left. I check the wardrobe and find women''s clothing, so I go through the door on the opposite site of this one, maybe the living quarters are divided on women''s and men''s side? It seems that I''m either lucky or right, because I find men''s clothing, albeit from medieval period. So no sunglasses for now.


    After exchanging my burned and dirty clothes with the new and clean, except for my boxers and socks that remained unburned, I''m dressed what I imagine to be local lord clothes with white trousers tucked into calf-length and I completely forgot about my calf. Then yet again it has been completely quiet and not bleeding all this time so it is fine. I mean it probably healed during the transformation and the shock of that made me think something else entirely, which is really troubling, seeing that the calf was the reason for the whole ordeal. Well anyway, white trousers, in black calf-length boots for my legs, fastened with highly decorated belt, and white, flat fitted  doublet and red leather jerkin with high neckline over my upper body. Only piece of clothing I like is the silken undershirt which I wear under the doublet.


    Now here comes the fun part, with the fact that I found leather gloves from the wardrobe to hide my nails, but no nail clippers, I''m left with one option to finish this dress-up game. "Seeing that some people bite their nails this shouldn''t be so bad right?" Thought I as I brought my thumb near my mouth, placing the nail over my lower row of fangs and bit. It took three bites, but the nail fractured of and I''m left with a bleeding thumb that has a nail half-ripped off and nine more to go. As I finish my manicure I return to the women''s wardrobe and take pair of silken gloves to wear under mine leather ones.


    I was so focused on my clothes problem that I didn''t even notice how every piece of clothing, even if little snug, was almost as if tailored to my warped frame. Realization I had later down the road, but currently I did not take notice of this.

 Chapter 4: Leaving the castle

    Stinging, like needles stuck under my fingernails, but couldn''t risk my nails ripping through the gloves. Ignore it and move on I tell myself and begin to climb the stairs up. As I walk over to the metal door, I think it is obvious that I''m stronger than before; I mean walking through wooden doors is not the most normal thing to, so can I open this door with force?  I grip the handle, place my shoulder on the door and push with my whole weight behind me. The door frames let out few ringing creaks but otherwise nothing. I try pulling instead and get the same result. For the third try I take little space between us and turn sideways with my shoulder extended and my free arm holding the other in place. As I begin my ram I suddenly remember that one should not try to force a door open with shoulder slam, as it usually results in broken shoulder instead of open door, but I''m too far to stop by force. My shoulder slams into the door and the pain quickly spreads down from my shoulder into the arm causing me to slip-up a little and extend my shoulder slam with a headbutt. That was embarrassing and now my shoulder, head and fingers hurt.


    After checking that nothings is broken I reenact how police does it, by taking little room, and placing strong kick with bottom of my foot next to the lock mechanism. The metal bends a little so I keep kicking, till the bolt of the lock has bent out from the door frame. Now there''s nothing stopping me from simply opening the door, lucky it wasn''t barred with anything or I would be kicking till I''d die. Now that remands me, I was both hungry and thirsty before the change, but now I feel neither. Had the beast eaten something before possession or do I not need to eat anymore?


    Walking, walking and more walking. That''s pretty much how the next hour or two is spend with no clear objective or way out. I have not met with anybody during my travels nor had I managed to find food or water, not that I needed to. But it is getting bit boring again, well at least the pain has subdued. I decide to check my manicure now that I remember and for both my grimace and joy, the wounds have pretty much healed and the fingernails have somewhat grown back. I don''t really feel like doing that again if it resets after few hours, so i decided to ignore it for now and throw away my silken under gloves, being quite nasty with the caked blood and so.


    Now that I have rediscovered the meaning of boredom, I begun to search for anything interesting I could find within the many rooms of this mansion or castle. I found exactly nothing, there are no paintings, books or furniture within these rooms or any other rooms except the ones with the wardrobes I visited at the beginning. Just an endless wave of white marble rooms and gray-white stone corridors. Well at least the excessive room to room jumping led me to stair way I''ve never seen before, so that''s something.


    Walking the stairs down I came to witness the first interesting sight after the wolf and the orb, two black knights standing in guard of large set of doors. The knights truly were adorned in black from head to toe with western looking full plate armor and large kite shields while their weaponry seems to consist of two bladed battle axes. The shields, while otherwise black were painted with a tapestry worth of symbol of red and white. The symbol wasn''t one those simple animal or mythical beast or other existing or nonexistent thing, but a pattern too hard for me to explain. Wait, does the symbol mean that they''re not completely black plated or is the shield not part of the set? Not the point.


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    Having nothing to use as a weapon I simply walked forward, preparing to deal with this as it goes on. You know, the way I have done to this point with not a single mistake made. As the sarcasm was thick enough for me to write in my future best-seller novel as thick enough to cut with a knife, the knights readied their stance as I approached. But when I came to the point of no return, they relaxed their stance and simply moved aside. Well it isn''t like they couldn''t tell that I''ve been possessed by whatever thing that wolf was, it did bestow me kinda eye catching appearance. The door opened with a slight push and I was met with image of forest in late midday''s sun.


    The walk down the bridge those two were guarding was nerve wrecking as I could feel their stares drilling into my back, but I''m out and that''s the only thing that matters right now. The fact that those servants of morally challenged side were more than happy to consider me as an ally is bit suspicious, but I don''t really stress about that. Then yet again, I don''t currently stress about anything, I mean I completely forgot my wounds, hunger and thirst after the transformation. I ignore obviously painful injuries now, I left my cellphone in there during clothes exchange and instead staying inside the rooms with beds ready and supply on clean clothes I just immediately left the premise. I begun wandering with no objective or idea what to do and instead trying to figure anything about the castle, orb, wolf or knights I yet again just kept walking. I didn''t even check if the knights could talk and explain to me whats going on, how curious. But I''m not going stress about those things, I just really wanted out of there.


    With the sun setting the forest became more and more shaded, but thanks to my new pair of eyes that proved to be of no concern for me. I could see the trail leading away from the castle as easily as during the day. But for some peculiar reason I decided to walk off the trail and head into the forest, something just smells so good I couldn''t resist. After walking for while instinct told me to grab a stone from the grounds and throw it with full strength towards my destination. As the stone whistled into a bush, I could hear a faint sound something splattering all over the place and went to check. And what do I see? A rabbit, lying there with a stone implanted on its skull. Yummy. Wait... no, that''s disgusting, this isn''t me... but I could still take a bite for the travels... But I don''t even get hungry... Then yet again leaving it here is such a waste... But it is raw... That''s how it should be... As I try to make sense what thought is mine and what is an instinct of the beast I feel something dripping down my jaw... And I enjoy the pleasant taste of fresh meat.

 Chapter 5: The Knight

    I stare the pile of bare bones that once was a rabbit and feel my sanity surging in with regret in tow. That solves the mystery of my personality problems, when ever my stomach ends up empty, no matter what, the instinct is to stop everything and hunt for food even if I don''t need to eat. Instincts of a predatory animal are scary. But now I know that as long as I keep eating I''m me, like that advertisement taught us, ha ha ha... But does anything else than meat work? I mean I''m quite sure I heard "this is how it supposed to be" when I was eating that rabbit. Only meat, any food? I''m screwed if it''s meat, I might start hunting humans. I stay there for a moment deep in thought, till I decide to bury the rabbit''s bones.


    I''m been trying to find my way back to the castle since while ago, but no matter what it feels like I''m walking in circles. That means my phone, my other less important stuff and free clothes and bedding are no go anymore. Can''t even talk to the guards, or even see if they can talk. Well, I did find the trail multiple times but following it to the castle is impossible, my nose nor eyes can''t locate a path there and memory from wolfme times it too hazy to trust. At least I had the sanity to completely evaluate my health in the mean time. No fractures, nails completely healed and nothings hurting or restricted while moving or resting. And the clothes are fine too, just little bloody...


    I locate the trail one more time and walk away from the castle while following it, while carefully maintaining iron focus not to slip up again. The trail ends quite suddenly with an enormous plain stretching as far as eye can see, my eyes, or the wolfs, so that''s pretty big distance. As try to gauge any landmarks or roads I could use as my next objective, I see a man riding in the distance. He''s coming this way, has he spotted me? Maybe I should head back to the forest while I can.


    I think as I hear the man calling me to stay put. The man is too far away to actually believe that someone could hear him yell, but thanks to my ears I hear him just fine. Can''t go to the forest with him having seen me, that would be suspicious, oh, isn''t that why he shouted? Yes, indeed, just because normal person can''t hear what he''s yelling, doesn''t mean they can''t see him pantomime the act of shouting and that would drop them on their tracks, if they''re innocent or even if they only pretend to be. So I waited.


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    The man reached me quite fast, so he has to have a good ride, maybe a warhorse? I think as the man stares down on me from his saddle, well as down as you can stare guy reaching your chin with his stare, I''m tall after all. "You''re tall fella, ya know?" Says the man or asks, I''m not really sure but he keeps going so I don''t answer. "You know, not that many come to these far woods here." Now I answer: "Kinda figured that out from the lack of roads.", while wearing my smug, thin lipped half-smile. "In fact you''re the first to ever come out of these woods right here." The man keeps drilling about.


    "Hard to believe, you know, with the only track being the one in these particular woods." I answer smug as ever. "In fact, I think it so weird, that you must be an enemy spy." He retorts and keeps going with: "What''s your name, boy?" I think deep and decide to lie to him, after all, my full name might be weird for a commoner to have: "John." The man looks me into the eyes and ask "John what, how come noble like you doesn''t have name or a horse?" Oh yeah, I was wearing the nobleman''s garments. "John Doe- Khm, John Dove, got robbed while traveling." I lie. "Tell me, Lord Dove, why do you speak like common man?"His barrage continues. "Sir Dove, not a noble but a squire of a knight, as my lord''s servant''s servant I traveled with the nobles carriage in our way east, but we got ambushed and robbed." I take in breath and continue: "As the knights, including the one I squired for got severely wounded and the noble was killed, my liege promised to knight me if I can avenge him, so I thrown a rock, hit the murderer as he was riding away, he fell and died." "Oh, and so my liege knighted me on spot with a name he got from a bird flying by." I keep lying. "Is that so, must have felt blessed." The man answers. "Not as blessed as I was that mule or donkey didn''t walk by as I was being knighted." I retort. The man chuckles, and I grasp the moment to ask: "Then who might you be?" "A knight, Sir William Hardhelm, traveling from east without seeing any such scene or place where it could have happened, and it doesn''t really explain what you''re doing in a forbidden area in the west." He says puffing up his chest.

 Chapter 6: Trust

    I stare the man dumbfounded, while wondering; is he lying and if he is then why? Too many questions for me to pick the truth out... I feel like I''ve said something similar to that earlier. But nonetheless the man keeps his gaze on me and I fear that not answering him has already made me suspicious individual. So I breathe in deep and say: "The east? You obviously came from the north. "The man, William if he so truly is named sizes me up with his gaze and says: "The north? Why I came with rising sun on my back, it''s obviously east then, no?" "Oh, I see I have my directions mixed, no wonder I got lost here!" I laugh of the blame placed on me. "Doesn''t explain the lack of robbery or why you''re wearing nobleman''s clothes, unless it was you who did the robbing." He blames me more.


    "You know what, okay, I lied." I confess and continue lying: "I''m just a poor boy who saw dead noble robbed blind and dead on the side of some distant road and decided that I needed new clothes and the noble obviously wasn''t needing his." Breathe in and out and keep going: "So, after stealing dead man''s clothes a sudden fog made me lose my way, maybe as a divine punishment and I ended in some forest I''ve never seen before." Stop, breath, continue: "And then some knight, who doesn''t even look like a knight found me as I found my way out of the forest." I nod my head as I finish talking.


    "No farm boy I know of would confess robbing a noble, dead or alive, as they fear hanging, chances of you being a spy just keep rising." Says William. "Why would a spy confess a crime?" I ask genuinely dumbfounded. "You tell me, boy."


    "In fact nothing of me makes sense as a spy, I''m eye catching by nature, or do you see giants everyday? My clothes aren''t for the job, I have no weapons or food and I know nothing of surrounding land" I ignore him as I keep going. "Yeah, but you happened to be next to forest that my liege happens to be interested in, on a day when I happen to be on the watch duty, having most extraordinary presence that just adds to the whole mystery I happen to be tasked to investigate." He answers me. "Okay, makes sense, so what, are you going to kill me now, because if you are, I''m going to resist." I drop my smile as I speak.


    We stare at each other for few seconds till he says: "No, just going to have to take you in the camp" I nod in agreement and he adds "But you''re going to have to wear this to be trusted" while throwing iron shackles to the ground. Well it''s not like they could actually restrain me so put them on obediently and he ties a rope around the chain part of the shackles and fastens it to his saddle. "Of course, we are kinda late because of your lies so we are going to make a run for it" He smiles at me and I retort "Well then don''t fall behind".


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    Been running for twenty minutes now, horse is not in full gallop so it actually isn''t even hard to keep up, but William thinks he has me on the ropes just because my tongue is hanging out. Wait why is my tongue hanging out? And now that I think of it, how do I understand what William is saying? I mean from the name it sounds like language is similar, but is it because the possession bestowed upon me knowledge of this world? I mean I had no idea what these clothes were called back home. Wait how hasn''t he noticed all this blood or my eyes and teeth? What is up with this and why do I feel like I could go for a rabbit stew?


    My thinking, wait what was I thinking about? Anyway it was stopped when we stopped and he offered me bread and water. As I wolf down the food my mind suddenly clears and I decide ask him: "Aren''t you going to ask about the blood?"


    William looks at me and says "Why? It is obviously from a rabbit, with you having rabbit fur all around your clothes." "About my... appearance?" I keep trying to get answer while I can. "The way I see it, you''re some kind of those half-breed humans and that''s not my thing to know or care about." Ah, a useful nugget of knowledge, other races exist and so does half-breeds between them so I can appear completely normal as I allude to being one of them. Yes, with this I''m safe and it does seem that any type of food bury the instincts to hunt and kill. "Oh, then you should know that I need to eat more often that norm.... regular human." He stares at me for time and then nods.


    More running, but this time my mind is clear and I try to get as much of the topography committed to memory as I can. With my tongue staying in my mouth William turns to me and asks: "So you really don''t get tired, you just were hungry?" I just nod. He in turn keeps asking: "What did you mean when you said I don''t even look like a knight?" This time I actually answer: "You aren''t wearing armor." He looks at me funny and says: "We wear armor during wars and jobs, otherwise we dress like however we want" "But you''re on a job" "Not on an official one. Maybe you truly are a commoner." I get my trained smug smile on and say: "Almost like I was saying from the beginning." He chuckles me an answer: "If we forget the part about being a lord''s squire and a knighted knight with lucky stones, eh? John Donkey?" "Hilarious, when did they start knighting court jesters?" "When ever one gets a lucky throw with their juggling balls" "And all this could have been avoided if the knight spotting me was anybody else than Sir William the Paranoid." We kept laughing the rest of the trip.

 Chapter 7: Warriors of the plain

    We arrived on a small encampment near a local stream. With only two small campfires burning and the amount of tents being few short of ten, I concluded that it should only hold 20-30 people, but a nearby log house made me doubt my calculations. It might hold more people in better position than these I now see before me.


    Coming to a halt the horse''s reins were handed by William to another knight that came to greet us. When William jumped down from his horse, I was genuinely surprised on how big the height difference between us was. I mean, I''m sixteen and he''s somewhere in his late thirties and I''m more than head and shoulders taller than him. My bewilderment was both increased and decreased as I saw that everybody else in the camp was around the same height as he was.


    After the knight who had taken the reins and guided William''s horse to the resting area came back, it was time for introductions. With the horse knight starting: "I''m Sir Gareth, the second in command in this camp and currently only knight next to Sir William." Gareth wasn''t wearing plate mail armor either, but he at least had coat of plates, a jerkin similar to mine, but with metal plates sewn inside of the fabric and chain mail under it. His head was covered by mail coif, the chain mail "hood" knights sometimes wore in movies. I could see that under the coif he had no hair, but the open face part showed that he had grown long, slightly graying beard to a length I think is compensating for baldness. With serious eyes and thigh pressed eyebrows he had the look of hardheaded and serious man, but his mouth slightly hanging open with chewing motion revealed that he had no enthusiasms for this at all.


    I was then greeted by the other, non-knight soldiers in the camp that after greetings stayed in general vicinity so that I could give my name for all of them at the same time to save time. With some of the soldiers showing obvious contempt towards me I decided to ignore most of them and press in my memory only the rare few that didn''t. First was Sam the Giant, named so because he was head taller than the rest, so about head shorter than me. He was also wider than the rest with his stout figure and looked like a wild man with his black hair grown long and full beard hiding half of his face. Not that I''m one to talk about looking like a wild man. At the beginning he seemed really tense and looked me with eyes pressed tight, but when he started talking, in voice so high pitched that it completely dumbfounded me. I mean a high-pitch falsetto like coming out of a man taller, wider shouldered and much more stout that the rest is quite surprising, but that was cleared when he started laughing in his natural deep bass, not even baritone but actual bass voice and commented on how "That gets them every time". Were friends now, but that got me thinking that maybe William was telling the truth about knighting court jesters when they make a lucky throw.


    The second man I chose to commit in memory was the only one wearing armor. It wasn''t full suit of armor, but compared to the others who wore leather armors and chain mails of different designs with no unifying theme, his chest plate, open burgonet-type helmet and elbow-length  gauntlets, all made from polished steel did stand out. He had blond hair under the helmet he didn''t bother removing and air of indifference, but as it wasn''t directed at me and he didn''t seem to have any problem talking to me he passed. Oh, his name was Alcott.


    Third was cowardly, at least towards me, squire, or the "head squire" what ever that was, who seemingly ran errands for William and an old man who didn''t come to greet me. With short, light brown hair that stuck to his temple and gray eyes, he looked like me before the change, but shorter and rounder. He was surprisingly intelligent or so I gathered from what others talked about him, probably because the old man was the group''s doctor, scribe and the guy in charge of counting and moving the equipment and rations. So he probably learned a lot by following him. Ralph was his name.


    Others didn''t really meet my quota, but I do remember a fourth person too. The man with balding head and magnificent mustache and round face and fat body, who came to me with grasping his hat. He was the chef of the group and was worried about my eating habits, with the bloody clothes and the blood dried around my mouth and jaw. He inquired whether I want my meat cooked or should he deliver it raw. Didn''t bother with his name, but answered that anything is fine, for some reason I kinda wanted to eat some amount of the meat raw.


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    With that over I gave everyone the name John I had used with William as the one to call me with, not that it''s that far from reality, as my name is Johnny. William called me to the cabin to discuss about the forest I had been found near, so I guess the log house is the captain''s quarters?


    "So, is your name really John, or were you lying from the start? And what about last name?" William started as soon I sat down on the bench on the other side of the table he was sitting. "It''s close enough be my real name and I don''t have a legal last name, because I was never knighted." Might as well go with half-truths. "So what kinda half-breed are you then" He drops the bomb he wasn''t supposed to be interested in. "Not sure, I don''t know exactly what the other half is, but the other is human." I keep going with half-truths. "Reason to be in the forest or near it?" "Got lost" We keep the talk going as he pours as some mead. "Sorry about the lack of wine, but luxury is hard to come by here in the wilderness." He apologizes. "I just hope I''m not an angry drunk, never drank before." Or a hungry one I continue in my mind. "We can''t afford to spend enough mead or ale to get some of your stature drunk, so don''t worry." He laughs.


    After the drinks are poured he starts asking more: "Where did you get those clothes, I mean I don''t think any normal ones would fit you." That actually throws me out of the game for while, as I never thought how weird it was for the clothes, that were little short for me, to fit me even this well. Even the gloves are like custom made for my weird, long-fingered hands. "Just found them lying around in the wardrobe." I finally confess after minute of silence. "Where might this wardrobe be, if it holds clothes for your kind?" "It was in the place that I left when I got lost in the forest." I return to half-truths. "So what, a village of your kind? Is there more of yous?" "Well I have seen three pairs of eyes similar to mine." He looks at me for a time and nods. "Is this village near the forest or in the forest?" He then asks, putting the weight in the end of his sentence. "I would say it''s on the other side of the forest." He looks at me with slight interest in his eyes and says "I know these are half-truths, but for the death of me I can''t figure out what you''re trying to hide."


    We decide to put the discussion to rest with me refusing to answer, so it''s my turn now. I look at William, whose appearance I haven''t paid much attention before and see that he''s around thirty with face of man of twenty, no beard or mustache and slightly hooking nose. With light brown eyes, mild character and blonde-brown hair, which is combed in one the most hideous comb-overs I''ve ever seen, he kinda looks like the boss-of-small-company-type person. He did have the soldier''s posture and nobleman''s bearing whether he stood or sit and you could see the muscles under his woolen over shirt.


    And I begin the barrage of questions: "So how where you knighted?" He tells me story of the battle of Morrigan''s  pass, where he fought on the side of now late king of this kingdom. Apparently he gained knighthood and the name William Hardhelm when he stopped an axe strike aimed at his commander... With his head. The comb-over is to hide the scar and the bald spot that came with it. He didn''t even know there was someone aiming at the commander, he just happened to walk in the front while fighting completely different guy at the same time. Not that he ever told the commander. I guess those lucky throws have indeed knighted half of the kingdoms knights. "So how come someone who has saved the life of his commanding officer and fought in and got wounded in a war for the kingdom was demoted to non-official post in middle of the nowhere?" He looks down for a long time before he answers: "I worked, fought and bled... For the losing side." We finished our mead without talking.

 Chapter 8: The forest

    William pours our mugs full of mead and we begin our second drinks of the night in total silence. With both of our gazes locked around different parts of the cabin I try to break the sullen atmosphere: "So, what''s the story behind the cabin?" William looks lazily around the interior of the cabin and tells me: "This encampment is manned in shifts of half-a-year per the group stationed here, but as a special privilege I''ve been assigned to stay here indefinitely." From there I piece together the rest; the group of soldiers coming here is led by a knight as is the leaving group, which explains why there are only two knights here at the time, William and the arriving soldier''s captain. The special "privilege" was probably given because he was out of the final battle thanks to the wound he gained, thus could not be killed in battle or during siege or however the final battle was fought. And when I talk about being killed in "battle" I mean that the winner probably executed all survivors of the opposing side after wards.


    Time goes on in silence, so I yet again try to talk, this time about something he has shown interest in: "So the forest is restricted area? For what reason?" His eyes light up a little and he says: "Nobody who goes there comes back, nor is there any indication of someone ever coming out from this direction." Before I can say anything from my point of view he continues: "We, and others before us have tried to circle around the forest but it just keeps going in no matter what directions you go in and if you ever cross from the plains to the forest, you simply gets lost no matter how near the edge you are." As I try wiggle in few question he has already readied himself to continue: "If you follow the shore line in the north with your ship, you might be able to reach the other side, but all men sent to study the forest and find food or water while "docking" near the forest''s shore have been lost and no ship has had enough food to make the trip, to our knowledge anyway." That answers few questions, mainly why he''s so interested in knowing where I come from, being found near forest. But really? No matter how near the plains you are you just get lost in there? What, do they simply walk deeper in trance? I think as I remember that no matter how I followed the track I always ended walking back where I started, near half-way point of the forest.


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    I fall in a deep though as I remember crossing the forest in two days top and decide to inquire more: "So what happens if you tie a rope around the men send into the forest?" "You see them run in there too far to see and rope, chain or anything else you tied them with goes slack, then you pull out cut or broken rope or chain.""If you try to hold the rope by yourself you too simply run in there and tying it around something immovable just buys whoever you sent in there time till you stop watching him and yes, we have tried full time watches on the subject." Ah, so no matter what, when you cross the boulder you die. Nice to know that''s the place where I come from like, definitely helps with my creeping suspicion that the wolf is responsible, it was pretty fast and smart after all.


    Trying to make some sense of the situation I get a brilliant idea for a question: "Have you seen a big pillar of black smoke recently rising somewhere over the forest?" William looks me for moment and says: "Recently no, but there was indeed a that kinda occurrence 3-4 months ago." I''m bewildered for a moment, at first I think that I simply lost my consciousness during the transformation for longer that I had suspected, but then I remember the columns of spiraling smoke from the time of my awakening. If the smoke pillar didn''t last for days, neither would those pillars, and with the facts that my sense of time has not been warped like my body, like I see from my interactions with people, and I don''t remember sleeping at all this time, I must have been wandering in the forest for weeks. I have to make sure: "So around 90-120 days ago?" "Hmn? Shouldn''t that be 120-160 with a month generally having 38-44 days in it? Or do they count the time with different way in your village?" A moment goes where I just stare the wall next to me till I ask: "How do you split the year?" "574 days in fourteen months, with 82 seven day weeks per a year" Comparing that to my words 365 days in twelve months, with 52 seven day weeks per a year is quite a shock, but I console myself with the thoughts like "maybe days are shorter here".

 Chapter 9: Defenders

    It has been five mugs of mead since the time we talked about time. The mead doesn''t seem to be that strong as neither William nor I have been even little affected, but at least the conversation been going lot better since then. William told me more about the camp and I learned that the old man''s name is Merrick and the chef''s is Walter. Merrick seems to stay here as a base doctor and only his personal assistant changes during the half year shifts, which apparently is seven months with more days than ours. Weirdly long time for shifts, but it has been said that this place is remote so frequent changes would just create problems. The can actually send mail from here, by taking it to "nearby" hunting and lodging cabin "village" where lodgers, hunters or rangers deliver it to a closest actual city or town that they happen to return after their work ends. But that can take weeks so it''s not fast, but the answer usually comes by official messenger riding here, so it''s little faster for that side of the conversation.


    It seems the cabin was built by using the first few shifts as labor force by William misusing his authority, as he was supposed to have a simple tent like the others do. It would have been changed during shift changes, but he disliked the idea of living in a tent for rest of his life and made them built the cabin. As the most remote outpost there is, this camp gets only soldiers that are capable using their hands and are good at cooking and washing. Lot of ex-hunters in the soldiers too, so it was no problem for them to do little extra work while trying to establish a working camp in the middle of nowhere. Also it seems that this camp is the only one near the forest, with the reason being that the forest seems to be filled with wildlife too big for your average backyard forest. Even with this being the closest camp, it took hour or two to travel from there to here, and I was force marched in order to make me too tired to resist the interrogation, but that didn''t work so well for William and the others.


    I''m no longer considered as a spy by William, but he still keeps asking for more information about the forest as some nobles have a habit of sending him wine and other luxury foods and items for information. And... It sounds like screaming... No like bellowing of orders I think as someone far away starts to run towards the cabin. I rise up and walk to the door after finishing my mead with big gulps and open the door just before the someone knocks. Before I have the time to ask why is he running or what is the yelling about, he piles on me and William that something seems to be moving towards the camp.


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    "How the hell did you know he was coming?" William asks as we make our way to the problem area. "Heard him coming from a mile away." I answer unsure if I was exaggerating or not. As we stand in the middle of a two line deep semicircle with round wooden shield carrying soldiers making the first line and spear men forming the second one, I see a boa like snake, except thick as a tree trunk slithering our way. "Is that one those large animals that keep causing you problems?" I ask and point. "Yeah, attacks have been more frequent since the smoke pillar." He says and searches the area I point towards to.


    It was fast, really fast. When the serpent got close enough for us to stab it with our spears it dived into the left side of the shield wall and knocked half of it down with that. Next it lunged towards the now exposed right side of spear men and actually just swallowed one them whole right there and then. As the others are incapable of reacting the snake''s speed I grab one the fallen spears and strike the snake''s side with it. The spear''s tip sinks only an inch or two before the handle snaps and the snake, now free to move, whips me with its tail, sending me flying fifty feet backwards and rolling another ten after the impact on the ground. And with the time it gains it naps three more and slithers away.


    I''m helped up by Gareth as William counts the losses, with four eaten and more killed by being slammed and crushed by snake weighting roughly the same as an elephant. Listening Gareth''s mumbling about there being no snakes that fast or big I get the picture that this might not have happened if I just chose to die instead of touching the orb. But that''s not the point nor are the dead, they no longer matter as I draw near the pool of snakes blood left by my spear. Dipping my right hand''s index and middle finger in the pool and bringing it to my nose, I smile and whisper: "I have your scent."

 Chapter 10: The hunt

    The smell of blood guides me as I run towards my prey. For the moments between each splatter of blood my mind regains some of its sanity and I wonder about the wounded and the dead, about the coming hardships of the surviving ones, but each drop of blood brings the scent back to memory like a flash of light and pushes the worries away. Memories distort and voices become just buzzing in the back of my head. Only one thing stays in my mind, the hunt. The thrill of the coming fight, the avenging of the fallen and the flavor of the preys blood on my lips.


    I come at the edge of some forest far from camp and the Forbidden Woods. Pity, had the Serpent chosen to run there, we could have kept the hunt going for months. The sun was setting when the Serpent made its attack, but now crescent moon hangs high in the sky. Doesn''t matter, I see as in midday''s sun. As I step over the edge between the forest and plains surrounding it, I realize that the prey has stopped somewhere mile a head. Beyond the range of my sight, but I hear neither rustling of its movement nor smell fresh blood dripping. I bare my fangs with smile.


    Before I venture further in, I begin to throw away my burdening clothes. Boots just slow me down and give sound to my steps and without them the socks don''t help so they have to go too. My jerkin and doublet work neither as armor or allow me to move freely. Silken shirt won''t help either. Gloves just hide my weapons. With nothing but my pants, now torn shorter to allow me move as I want I resume the hunt. As I move my form becomes more crouched than before.


    Stepping carefully from bare stones to sand to green, but not wet, spots of grass to avoid rusting of branches, leaves and other plants and the splashing sounds, I make my way close to the sleeping snake. When It comes to my sight with nothing in between us I grab the largest stone I find near the are, nearly three feet across, small boulder size of a man crouching down. I lift it with ease and step little closer as prepare myself to throw it. With carefully calculated arch it comes down on the Serpents body and my smile deepens. But my smile fades from my face as the "Serpent''s" body completely flattens under the boulder, twitching its head up high, showing me that there are no eyes in its sockets. Nothing but the skin, shed there to confuse me is the thought going through my head as my instinct tells me to jump forward. As I come crashing down on the forest floors I see the Serpent''s head sunken to the spot of earth I was standing on.


    I stand to the face the Serpent as it raises its head. No wounds and no splatters of blood of men or its own decorate its now completely unblemished skin. So it heals fast and seeing that it left the battered, blood soaked corpse as trap it has intelligence comparable to the Wolf. Smile returns to my face as thrill of the coming fight causes my heart beat faster than ever before.


    The serpent strikes forward and I jump to the right, next to its skin. My choice is proven right as the Serpent changes the course of its strike, flowing to me faster than before. I simply pull the shed skin over as a veil and slip away as it tries to locate me. Now standing up straight I slowly walk backwards, keeping an sturdy oak tree on my near right. The serpent does another dash towards me and I jump backwards with full strength and it responds by speeding up to its maximum speed. As the Serpent does exactly as I wished, my jumps midway point brings me right next to the oak tree and I kick it with full strength, changing course to left. A trick I could never do with my human reflexes or strength. With the sudden shift in place the Serpent overshoots me by far, allowing me to get up on my feet and dash towards its tail.


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    The tail rises to meet me in the Serpent''s attempt to stop whatever I''m doing, but I slip under it almost like sliding on the wet grass, grabbing the Serpent side with my claws. It is covered with fresh mucus from the shedding, but my nails rip deep into it and I gain hold, so I begin my advance towards its head. Advancing one hand at the time, slamming my feet in the loosened ground for traction, the Serpent begins to squirm. Trashing around the Serpent tears off some of my nails from the stems and nearly escapes from my grip, but I manage to hold it down long enough for it to change its tactic. The Serpent instead comes towards me without trashing and begins to coil around me, reversing our position.


    The crushing attempt does me no harm, my body tougher than steel, but it manages to restrict one of my hands and the squeezing makes breathing harder and harder as this goes on. When I decide to hold my breath on moments whim, the Serpent brings its head close to confirm the kill. I use the opportunity to grab the upper "lip" of the Serpent with my free left hand and begin to squeeze it in return. My breathing now labored thanks to the Serpent and head hazy from breath holding, I truly don''t know what I expected to happen, but I manage to crush the front of the Serpent''s skull. It convulses from the pain for a moment that I use that to push my hand further towards it brain and manage to grip the nest hard part of its skull.


    The Serpent knows now what I''m trying and concentrates on crushing me while trying to pull its head free, but I dig my remaining nails into its head and hold on. While my consciousness begins to fade after this goes on for some time and my grip loosens bit by bit, I still persevere to hold on to the both for long enough that in my final moments of clarity I feel something pushing out of the Serpents head. Its eyeball, now hanging out of its socket, guides me to extend my finger in the socket and push it deeper and deeper, till the Serpent stops squeezing me.


    Crawling out from under the Serpent''s carcass proves easy thanks to the slippery mucus, but my lungs burn with every breath and every push and pull sends needles down my throat. While I try to rise standing my breathing becomes wheezing and my brain blackouts long enough for me to fall down on the ground. There I lie, nest to the dead Serpent and as I watch in now smashed head and drooping eyeball, I feel both satisfaction and hunger. I extend my arm and grab the eyeball from the stem of the nerve and pluck it. Bringing it over my face, hanging between my thumb and index finger and gently swaying, I drop it in my mouth and bite. It bursts like a ripe fruit and its taste wakes me to the point I can begin my feast.

 Chapter 11: The return

    I come to my senses as my stomach fills and my blood lust wanes. The sight before my eyes that I can now comprehend is of the Serpent''s corpse, with smashed head and skin ripped wide open. The rip expanding from the head bares the flesh that has been half gouged out and devoured. Bite and claw marks decorate the now slowly rotting meat and the once delicious smell of fresh blood turns putrid. But I don''t mind and begin to stretch the wound larger to eat more.


    Having filled my stomach I come to fully realize the situation. Friends, if they so can be called, left to bury their dead as I run to hunt. Even the hunt itself comes to my mind reckless and stupid. And now I''m mostly naked and covered in blood, dirt and mucus from the fight and more blood from the feast. I bring my hands to my face as I wonder if I can ever go back, if I can actually live with humans like this or if they have already sent someone after me. This goes for long time, with my face hidden behind my hands and my mind in deep thought.


    I finally lift my head, and decide that I should go back, if only to confirm what they think of me. I try to locate any source of water to clean myself, but all I found are puddles on the forest floor. Better than nothing. Locating my clothes is easier, still reeking from the sweat after all the running. Torn by me and dirtied by the ground they aren''t the best choice when trying to appear like civilized human, but they are my only choice. So now I stand, slightly reeking of blood and sweat, with my parts of me still dirtied and covered in mucus. At least most of the blood is gone.


    I follow the same trail of blood back to the camp and I''m met with distrusting gazes, not that it surprises me. Walking through without minding people trying to stop me I make my way to the cabin and step in without knocking. William sits by the table and looks up to me as I walk in. He rises without saying anything and takes two mugs from the cupboard nearby and pours us more mead. Nice to see something hasn''t changed. With us sitting around the table William stares outside from one of the cabin''s windows.


    Having gotten at the bottom of the mugs William finally begins to talk: "Don''t know if you cared about the others, but we have four eaten, ten dead and five wounded." He breathes in and out and keeps going: "Biggest losses we ever had in the outpost, with most dying in accidents rather than attacks." His stare is far away from this place. "So, I''m not surprised that you would just leave without helping the wounded or helping us to bury the dead." His speech comes in fragments. "But were did you exactly go?" He asks, now finally looking at my directions. I think for a while and answer: "I felt like going for a walk; maybe get a snack while at it."


    William keeps staring at me as his mouth moves in motion of speaking, mostly to himself. Even I can''t hear what he is whispering. Then he suddenly asks: "Did, did you find something to eat?" Having prepared my answer it comes out rather forcibly: "Yes, not the best I had, but went down fighting." The corners of William''s mouth curl up and I respond with smile of my own. "You know, with most of the men down and next change of shifts in two more months; I think we should hire more people for the camp." He says rather formally. "Is there anybody in mind?" I ask. "A man with rather good hearing and sight for the scout position, so the tragedy doesn''t repeat would be good, I''d say."  William inclines for my option. I simply say yes.


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    Having chosen to accept the position of a scout and nightwatchman, I finish my mead as William makes the declaration for the troops. Most still look at me with hateful eyes, but now some fearful ones are mixed in as they realize from William speech what happened during the night. Only Sam claps at the end of the speech, but for the death of me I can''t find Alcott''s shiny armor from the group or amid the wounded.


    Author note:


    This marks the ending of season 1, so the story will go for a hiatus. The hiatus won''t last for more than a week and that is the maximum length of it, so I might continue it after just two-three days. I will also update the description to include the seasonal aspect of the story, but I won''t mark chapters or what season they belong to. If you''re wondering why I''m going for the season cut style story, it''s because this story is my first one ever, and I need to take breaks between the writing sessions. It also helps to throw in a few time skips without having our MC get lost in the Forbidden woods...


    Now this story is also otherwise experimental and is meant to test my writing skills and grammar. This of course means that the story isn''t written out beforehand, and most of my time logged in is used in writing sessions, so I haven''t answered all the comment, but I have read them and I want to thank all those who left a comment for their support. I have a plan for the story in my head, so those who got scared at the"not written beforehand" -part thinking that I''m just winging this out as I go in don''t need to worry. But lot of things do change as I write so the story can be little disjunctive, sorry about that.


    Of course all this comes down to that when I''m finished with this story, my writing and grammar skills have evolved and I have the grasp on what I need to do to write a great story. That doesn''t mean that I have thrown this story to wolves thou, and I but my best effort to make this a worthwhile read.


    I hope you keep reading and that my story stays interesting enough to read. By WritingForFun.

 Chapter 12: The Owl

    Tomorrow is the day I think as I leap to the left in order to avoid incoming dash from my opponent. Not really that hard one to fight this time, a wild boar size of a rhino, but really annoying. All the tactics I used against the Serpent were useless on this one. Instead of hard scales that my claws could sink into he has soft fur, and if I try to grab it, it simply tears of in clumps. And we are fighting on a plain so now maneuvering using the trees or throwing rocks. My current tactics is wait it to charge in, sidestep and grab one of the boar''s tusks and slam it down by using the tusk as a lever. But it has been somewhere in the span of half-an-hour to a hour without any effect and the surrounding plain is starting to look like a minefield after having a dance competition on it. So I change to little riskier approach.


    The boar charges in with thundering roar as I do my regular sidestep follow-up and grab the tusk, but this time after slamming the beast down head first; I grab its other tusk and lift. Pulling my arms towards me as I lift the boar causes its neck to twist on a rather awkward angle as it thrashes on the ground belly up. While trying to keep my balance between the kicks and twist I suddenly bend my body backwards while lifting the boar with full strength, causing its whole body to leave the ground for a while, till it comes crashing down. With the boar''s neck on an awkward angle, the sudden motion is enough to break it. I breathe in and straighten my back before carving myself a raw steak of boar meat.


    With both the fight and feast finished I begin to walk towards the camp while bringing the matter of tomorrow back in my mind. It has been two months since the Serpent''s attack and tomorrow is the change of shifts. I made a deal with William that I help with the strengthening of camps security in return of right to leave my position as a scout. I can''t figure out anything about the wolf or the forest from William, and he can''t figure anything about the forest from me, so he had no objections with me leaving to figure them out. Well I never told him about the wolf, he still thinks I''m studying the village and its location within the presence of the Forbidden woods.


    The camp comes to my sight different from two months ago, with high log walls, built by having me go to the nearby forests and felling few trees and carrying them back as others dug the holes they were buried in to support them. The log wall isn''t that secure, with having gaps big enough for thin adult to squeeze through, as the holes couldn''t be dug so close to another without causing the already upright logs to fall down, but with the size of the beast were fighting, none could slip through. To build an actual wall we would had to build a foundation, but none us knew how, so this had to do. Not that we had any casualties with me taking all the night shifts and the beasts moving only in night. It''s not like I need to sleep anyway nowadays.


    Within the camp I''m greeted by the remaining of the night watch and the now waking members of day watch. Sam comes to greet me with them. When it was decided that I take the night watch duty, Sam actually wanted the same shifts as me, but as he learned that I took every shift, he opted to take some day watches too. I was actually glad that someone that didn''t hate me wanted to spend few shifts with me so I had something to do instead just staring in the horizon with my eyes glazed. Thanks to our talks I now know more about Sam''s life and family history that I know about my own life or family history, but as said, better than just sitting around campfire alone and bored with nothing to do. Gareth also waves me as I keep walking towards the far end of the camp. He has come to respect me more during these times, but I still don''t think that he actually cares what I do or happens to me. Not that the feeling isn''t mutual, but I have even come to respect him too during these times.


    Merrick, the old man and the wise man of the camp has never talked to me this whole time I spent here, but he doesn''t seem hostile or anything and he helps with everything William tells him to help me with. Mostly clothes, as my appearance has changed a lot with these two months. It was already proven that my hair and nails don''t grow by me getting lost in the Forbidden woods for months, which is good as I don''t think they could be cut with regular equipment. It does seem that my muscles do grow, and I''m no longer the slender giant I used to be. The fights with beast, building the wall and diet consisting 98% of meat did its job. With the fights trashing my nobleman''s garnets and my growth rendering the otherwise useless too, Merrick has been responsible for sewing me new clothes from the fallen beats hides, now rendering me to a total barbarian with black, shaggy hair, wild eyes and leather and fur clothes. At least he had the skill to make actual pants and I wasn''t left with a loincloth.


    I arrive at William''s cabin where we usually had our drinking sessions, but with mead running out thanks to increased consumption and soldiers refusing to share their ale, we were left with no option but go for some pseudo tea made by boiling some forest plant''s leaves in the stream water. So now we share our thoughts around the hot cups of dyed water. I don''t hate tea, but this imitation is nearly tasteless and this out-post has no sugar. After pouring as mugs of tea William starts the talk: "It seems that our message got through to the nobles and they''re sending thrice the amount of soldiers and actual knight brigade to fill our ranks." "That''s good." "They''re also sending in full garrison force help rebuilt the camp into a small fort, but the garrison force leaves after the fortifications are done" William says while ignoring my interruption. He sips the tea with bitter looks on his face and continues: "Of course with you leaving we have to create actual scouting force and upkeep constant watch, but the better equipment they send us should help with the actual subjugation. Not that I expect it to go as well as it has gone with you doing it alone. Less risks and more success I say." Answering him I just tell him straight: "You won''t convince me to stay, I need to figure these things out." That kinda ends our conversation for the day, but we still talk about random things.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    **************************************


    The sun rises with slow arch in the sky and my duty in the fields has ended. As I make my way back to my house in the center of the Corian village, near an all encompassing desert of the east I hear noises made by galloping horses. With that I break into a run and arrive at the outskirt of the village and see a small army of men, wearing thick and heavy leather armor and carrying large, two-handed claymores and composite bows on their backs. They simply wait there as curious villagers came running after hearing the horse''s hooves hitting the ground. "We are all idiots"-I think as a bearded man man wearing some kind of armor I haven''t seen before bellows out words: "We are the Huns under the great orders of Attila himself, so bow!" As I wonder what foreign tongue does the word "Hun" belong to, a man different from others rides near the group of villagers.


    This man is not clad in armor like others; he only wears leather trousers and boots. His bare upper body is large and slender, with broad shoulders. Long and thin fingers grasp the reins as his eyes survey the group. A bird of prey comes to my mind as I study his features, with long hooked nose and small peak like mouth, but mostly the hair and eyes. His eyes are like that of a real bird, with small and slender eyes hiding large pupils and irises and no white can be seen. His hair is golden-brown and stuck in thin, long clumps almost like feathers, combed to point backwards along the head and half raised like he was buffing them up.


    Then one of the villagers, an older man walks to meet this man who studies him with his non-blinking eyes atop his horse. He even tilts his head like an owl would as the man approaches. The elder, who I know recognize as the village''s mayor speaks to the leader of "Huns", named Attila. "I have heard of you from the reports, nothing but a thief and a murderer! You think you can lead your band of thieves in my town and rob as you please? You will be brought to justice!" The mayor screams angrily towards the man. I also remember now who these men are, a band of thieves who have been robbing nearby towns and villages, killing the men and taking the women, food and anything of value before they burn the villages down with all the remaining people still inside their houses. We truly were fools, but no use running now.


    The man jumps down his horse slightly smiling and says in rather humored tone: "And who will be the one to take us to justice, with king''s men far from the remote towns and the lord''s men guarding their cowardly masters?" The mayor simply stares at the man without flinching and says: "You think you can scare me with words when your actions have failed to do so? DON''T MAKE ME LAUGH! If the knights or soldiers will not fight, we the common men will! You think you would be the first thief king taken down by commoners? Think again, your kind always falls! We will rise to sword if needed to, and we, the men your kind oppress, WILL BE YOUR END!" He yells now red faced, voice laced with defiance.


    But it has no effect on the thief king, he simply places his hands on both sides of mayor''s head as thin smile spreads on his face and whisper loud enough for us all to hear: "Ah, but for to the common men to rise, they need a one thing..." And with that he drives his thumbs from gently resting on the mayor''s temple into his eyes. As the mayor screams and falls down on the feet of Attila, he lifts his right leg dangling over the mayor''s head and continues his speech: "...A martyr."


    With that his foot comes crashing down, crushing the mayor''s head and silencing his screams. "And now it has been given, so who of you shall be my end?" He yells the question to us. With no movement from us he rolls his eyes and walks over and grabs the daughter of village''s baker by simply lifting her over his shoulder and yells to his men: "I''m taking this one, you can keep the rest."


    With that comes the end of our village.

 Chapter 13: The wise man

    Reading, reading and more reading thought Lewin, the current master and head of the society of the wise. It was the society of the wise that controlled the libraries within the capital and trained the scribes that served kings and other influential people of the royal and noble lineages. It was also their council that controlled the book and scroll trade of the kingdom, and as the head of the society, it was Lewin''s job to hold the council meetings and decide their members. But now he worked on a completely different job.


    It was to study recent phenomenons happening over the kingdom''s borders. Many of the citizen''s didn''t know that the kingdom was maybe the only one that existed on this world. And even thought it is called a kingdom, it was closer to an empire formed by uniting three kingdoms under the rule of the current king. But back to the phenomenons. The first to happen was 9 months ago in the east. On a regular day no different from the others that region saw, a column of golden smoke rose in horizon with two months later a thief king calling himself Attila emerged. It was then that the society was first tasked to research this. But it was useless, they found nothing that even hinted of that kinda thing happening in the past, legends, myths, tales or even folklore. And to twist the knife in the wound, they found no tribe, clan, society, kingdom, nobility faction or other human faction that were called "the Huns" in their books nor any language, text or writing they could refer to, almost like they had never existed in the world.


    Then the second column happened, rising black over the forest in the west about 6 months ago, causing the animals grow larger, stronger and faster and forcing the kingdom to fortify the out-post in the west. It was then Lewin himself was forced to take the task of researching these occurrences. But yet again nothing was found. Tiresome work with no result, but Lewin had the suspicion that these would not be the last of the smoke columns. As said this kingdom was last thought to exist in the world as it was surrounded by impenetrable forest in west, impassable desert in east, frozen wasteland in south and always stormy seas in north that are so called dead-zones that kill all those who try to cross them. Of course this is not revealed to the public and those in power are only told of one these problem areas at the time, regarding on what corner of the empire they happen to be in. This of course feeds the curiosity of the nobles who want to be the one to solve the mystery of the forest/sea/wasteland/desert and they happily send men to die in there. But if two of the columns happened over these areas, sure the two remaining zones will experience them too? Maybe it was related to the other races said to have inhabit the world beyond the dead-zones, but there are no records of their civilizations or even them themselves, only half-breeds.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    Lewin''s mind went back to the cover up. The nobles and merchants are confused by making the kingdoms appear as autonomous as possible, while still being ruled by one man, thus causing most people think that there are two more kingdoms next to the one they live in, but actually they are just provinces of the empire. The matter of who rule is often debated hotly, but what do common man care of the kings and nobles? To them it is the taxes that matter and lowly merchants and nobles are as confused as they are, as what chances do they have to meet the king? Surveys reveal that some cities are places where ten different men are thought to be kings, as who sits on the throne changes depending the area of town you''re standing in. Also, the constant civil wars waged by wannabe emperors and others who found out the truth makes people think that we sometimes war against neighboring countries, increasing the belief in them, as who would be crazy enough to have near annual wars with themselves? Well, the humans would. Only the elites of nobles, merchants and wise men know of the four dead-zones, other races and the empire and its true king.


    As he was deep in thought, one of the apprentices runs in the room looking out of breath and out of his mind. Lewin could guess what he was going to tell him. The apprentice opened his mouth after gulping and said: "Third column has been seen over the north, in the Misty seas. Lewin simply sighted as he thought the calamities that would follow this and the last column.

 Chapter 14.1 Journeys

    The garrison arrived two hours later than they were supposed to arrive, but with that many men there were going to be some complications during travels, it''s practically a miracle they arrived on the day they said they''d arrive on. I waited in the cabin with William and Merrick as they maid their way through the camp ground. "Are you sure that I''m not needed here while the fortification is in progress?" I ask. "No, it''s better if you leave with this shift; it will help to keep your... condition under wraps. I''m sure most of the camp''s soldiers will talk about you and you actions here, but with their numbers and position they won''t get the attention of public or top brass. But if we wait till next shift change, the leaving shift will include much bigger number of soldiers and actual knights. So doing it this way gives you four months of peace and quit during your research." I wonder what he means with my condition, as I haven''t told about the possession but... Wait, four months? "What do you mean four months, isn''t the shift change in six months?" "They changed it because of the higher dead rate."


    Merrick handed me a scarf made from overstock of different fabrics and told me to wear it over the lower portion of my face and black tinted glasses he made from breaking some of his equipment. With these my mouth and eyes stay hidden, but I wonder how is he going to explain a blind man as a watchman. I get my answer soon enough as the leader of garrison steps in the cabin moments later and asks after seeing me: "Is this the recruited scout that was supposed to leave with this shift? He''s blind." To which Merrick retorts: "So are all the men in the dark of night, it''s his hearing that matters." The leader gives a dismissive nod and starts talking to William as I''m guided to the leaving wagons, apparently the two hours lost have to be gained back and we can''t wait to leave, after the stuff is unpacked of course.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    I get to sit in the wagon as hour goes by unpacking, but Sam joins me after five to ten minutes, so I get to hear more about his family history. Beats just sitting. It seems that there are going to be regular deliveries to the camp withing next five to six months that the rest of the needed equipment is brought, or that what I heard while simultaneously listening to Sam and the men unloading the wagons. So I guess it''s still possible to return if I get my research done in four months, five in maximum.


    The leader returns with Gareth, who also decided to leave with this shift and comes to sit with me and Sam. And with that we are off.


    ********************************


    "Crap, crap, crap..." I whisper under my breath as I stare at the snake lying on the floor. I have no idea how I got here or where here is. One day I''m walking to work and suddenly I''m on an island in the middle of some storming ocean. As I walk around the shore line to confirm if there''s any boats, even rowboats, a gigantic snake, like from some fantasy movie my kids would love to watch slithers on the shore and starts chasing me till I''m standing in the center of the island, next to a obsidian altar with weird, white sphere on it. It matches the snakes white scales that glitter with saltwater, and sometimes when I move, its eyes, like a dinner plate sized whirlpools of crystal blue water move between me and the sphere. Is that it? Does it want me to touch it? Should i? Would it take me back to my family?


    After few hours in the freezing rain I decide I have no other choice but touch it. The erupting white column of smoke can probably be seen on the other side of the ocean.

 Chapter 14.2 Journeys

    The time during travelling from the camp to the nearby village was spent listening Sam''s stories and getting the occasional comment from Gareth, who was mostly engrossed with the book he was reading. Didn''t know he was a reader, but he probably read in his tent instead of the camp grounds, so makes sense I never saw him reading. Seeing the book made me entertain the thought of being attacked by thieves during our travels, as it would happen in fantasy books, but as voiced this thoughts to contribute to the conversation, Gareth simply told me that our forces were too massive for any thief group to attack. Only some group calling themselves the Huns would do so, being know for their reckless, albeit successful attacks against kingdom''s men. But the Huns seemed to only ravage a neighboring kingdom in the east, so they weren''t a massive, multiple kingdom spanning criminal empire, just a small group lead by a madman. Didn''t think there would be Huns in this world too. Funny how some of my world''s concepts have migrated here.


    ...That actually made me think that the word "migrate" was right, as I came from Earth so nothing is stopping others from coming here. Is the madman calling his followers the Huns from my... Our world? This should be put on the list of things I will research one I make it to the capital. I fell in deep of thought while Sam drilled on about his great uncles'' wife''s brother''s cousin or something, trying to figure out why haven''t I thought about my world or the fact there was an obvious rift existing between here and there. At the start the reason was easy, I was still hazy from hunger and shock, but it has been two months and nothing has come to my mind, about family, friends or home overall. Is it the influence of the wolf?


    We made to the village without being stop by thieves, a simple hunting and lodging village for the forest workers. Almost forgot to pretend I was blind, because even with the black tinted glasses I could see fine. Otherwise the village life was unremarkable, and we simply went to rest as soon as the wagons were secured for the night. We were two hours late in the schedule, so instead having time to cook food before bed, only thing we got were dry rations, but it was better than going hungry, at least for me.


    It was during the night it happened; as I don''t sleep I was completely awake when it struck me. Completely blindsided by what was happening, I was lost and confused before managing to get my breathing in order. This nostalgic yet never before felt feeling reminded me of the time I cracked open the orb and lost all of my recognition of my surrounding, except this time it didn''t happen to me, this time I didn''t get knocked out and was subjected to the whole immerse feeling of being drowned in what ever the orb contained. Thank God it was muffled by the fact that it didn''t happen to me directly, I only felt it as a side effect of someone else touching the orb. Somewhere in the north, as my memory serves, by William words there was shore line in the north, so there should also be a sea. I''m quite sure that it happened somewhere in the sea, but can''t begin to guess why.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Collecting my now twice disturbed thoughts of the day, I decide that riding with the caravan is too slow, and I should reach the capital and the society of wise with haste. So I leave a written letter, as I seem to know this world''s writing system from memory, thanks to the wolf''s influence, and depart without bothering my comrades. Rather cliched course of action with lots of demerits, but taking two normal humans to a fight that could involve people like me, and have them slow me down on my travels would not be good either. So I conclude that keeping them alive and keeping me moving faster are two reasons well worth the reckless abandonment of friends.


    The writing of the letter proves difficult, as I still don''t think that I should tell them about the orbs and their influence, but simply leaving may cause them to send people after me, and I''m sure that group of people who know this area and are trained on horse riding would catch me easily, slowing me down as I''d be forced to fight or return. Plus it would make me a criminal sought around the kingdom, making it harder to get in the capital, or in what ever building houses the society. But I can''t spend too much time on this letter either, so I decide to simply lie that William gave me a letter in secret and said to open it only after we made it to the village. And that the letter contained the order to make haste in the direction of capital and deliver what I know to a about the forest to a noble William trusts.


    With having written the letter, I begin my journey for all that is good and right by stealing the fastest horse I could find.

 Chapter 14.3 Journeys

    Having ridden all night in steady speed, following stole... borrowed map for guidance, I still can''t stop helping to think that I''m moving too slow. I know that I can''t force my steed to run full speed and I have to stop and let it rest periodically or I''m left with more food but less rides than I started with. Never really thought what the limits of my powers were, but if I later find out that I could turn into a wolf and I could have done this whole trip by myself and faster, I''m going to be mad.


    *******************************


    "There is a great disturbance in the Force" I think-quote as I''m woken from my slumber. Now, I don''t really sleep thanks to that Owl-thing that possessed me in that desert temple, but I learned a nifty trick of letting its consciousness to take over our shared body and let mine drift into a sleep like state. And the best part of the trick is, that the Owl has no consciousness of its own, only some basic instincts and commands it obeys, so it doesn''t actually do anything in my body, like run rampant or something, but simply lies where ever I left my body. So I get to imitate sleep when ever I''m bored, well unless I haven''t eaten, then the instincts take over, but otherwise it''s safe. But back to the disturbance.


    I rise into a sitting position and think where ever I felt this same feeling I''m currently experiencing. Still hazy from my fake-sleep it takes me little too long time to realize it''s a third one of us, "our-worlders" or "possessed people" or whatever one would call us. Yes, the second slipped from my grasp as I was sleeping, having no idea about the world around me, but this time I was fast enough to get a location; somewhere in the north. Not that much, but seeing that there''s a ocean out there, as long as I have my men watching the harbor towns, I should find him or her, as we are quite easy to recognize from the group. Plus, if it goes like with me, I should have one to three months while he''s lost in the forbidden area around the sea-temple to move my troops. Yes, it''ll work.


    Now rising up to a standing position in my tent, I try calling the village girl I got from recent business trip only to not get an answer. Furious, I look all over my tent searching for her only to find her slumped over, with one my better sheets wrapped around her. "Wake up, got a job for you, go tell..." I got out as I kick her gently to wake her up, only to have her fall over with no response and no reaction from the fall. "Huh..." Oh, it might be another case of me getting hungry during the act I realize and begin unwrapping her. Yep, there''s a nice big piece of soft flesh missing from her face-neck-shoulder wide area. "Shit, killed another one." Well, if I''m ever questioned by the other two, I should just blame the demon bird, that should work.


    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    After getting a slight bite out of the situation and her I''m forced to go and order my men myself.


    *************************************


    Waking up inside a big column of white smoke, I get up and stand tall, taller than I ever stood. Suddenly I feel less like I should worry about my family and more like I should try to swim a shore and head towards either east or west. But first, I should deal with my hunger.


    **************************


    Author note: Okay, here is the deal; The Chapter 14: Journeys was supposed to be longest chapter up to date and end the season 2, but recent events have forced me to cut the chapter in three pieces. As some may have seen that there were two chapter fourteens, "The journey begins" and "The journey", which are after this update renamed to chapter 14.1 and 14.2 of "Journeys". Some may also have noticed that the chapter 14: The journey begins, didn''t have the normal space between the number 14 and the chapter name, that''s because when I was writing that chapter, personal reasons forced me to cut the chapter and rename it from "Journeys" to "The journey begins" and in my hurry, I forgot to but the space in. I later returned to write the second part of the chapter, but it also got distracted and I ended that chapter premature and then went in to a hiatus. Because of this break and chapter cutting, season 3 begins immediately (as soon as I get it written) after this update instead of the normal in-between-season-hiatus.


    Also, I''m thinking of writing more comedic than serious, slice-of-life style story that would upload alongside this one, but slower. Update day not yet decided.

 Chapter 15: The meadow

    Two weeks riding and I still haven''t made it to the capital even though it should have been nine days by horse, and with the speed I''m going it normally would have been shorter than that. But every time I check the map, I have for some reason moved diagonally towards east, instead of the capital in the north. If it is because of the wolf, it would mean a second time it has tricked me with diagonal movements. At least I''m still week ahead of the caravan, so leaving wasn''t the wrong choice in the matter, as I have made a steady progress towards my destination. But what could have been pulling me to the east?The second of the possessed is towards the north, so even if he or she isn''t my destination as for now, it shouldn''t throw my travels on their heads, as I''m heading towards him or her in a broader sense.


    Stopping my horse so I could take a look at the map, I''m again confronted by the fact that my trip has taken few miles towards the east and in much bigger scale than before. No matter how much I try to keep my course straight, it keeps going curving, as no beforehand chosen course, using the landscape, using the sun or even using the compass keeps me on tract. Almost like my travels in the Forbidden woods, no matter how I stick to the road, I still get sent where the wolf wants. But if the curvature keeps getting bigger, isn''t what I''m being pulled towards near? Time to find out I decide as I leave the guiding completely to the wolf.


    Within an hour my journey ends in a small meadow in a sparse forest as I come face to face with a rather ugly looking man, wearing nothing but leather pants and boots. Behind him rides a small army of leather armored men, carrying claymores and composite bows. As I hold my gaze towards the man that I''m quite sure to be a possessed person, he tilts his head and starts staring back at me. I try to keep myself from smiling as his antics remind me of an owl, and now that I think of it, his hair does look like feathers. I decide to get the conversation going but before I have the time to open my mouth, he starts talking, cutting me of.


    ****************************


    Annoying, annoying... The word keeps repeating in my head as I lead the Huns through a sparse forest lacking any underbrush between the few trees that grow far apart from each other. Can this even be called a forest? No matter how I try to make it to Bayfort, the harbor town of the capital, I seem to be heading west instead. I can''t find the north and my men are too chickenshit to lead or question my leadership skills, so now we are stuck on the road to nowhere. I guess I should confess my mistake, but even if I do that, my men would simply go on about how I could never make a mistake and we would get nowhere. I guess there is a negative side effect on the whole kill-all-who-question-or-contradict-you way of doing things. Well loss is a loss and there got to be something interesting on the west for my instincts to insist I go there.


    As me and my troops arrive on a small clearing in the "forest" we been traveling in, I come face to face with an ugly bastard, the kinda ugly one gets from being possessed. He doesn''t seem hostile for the moment, but me having an army behind my back could change that fast, so I give an order for them to leave and go to Bayfort as supposed to. They''re useless when it comes to fighting possessed people anyway, as my recruiting tactics have proven. I simply find the nearest village to my current position and ask the villagers if they have a problem with thieves, if they say yes, I move towards what direction they warn me not to go to. When I get ambushed, I simply murder the ambushers except for one whose legs I break and get him to tell me where the camp is. Walk to the camp and repeat the slaughter, who lives joins. Usually they give up at the halfway point of the fight. That''s how I got most of the thieves under my wing while some joined by their own volition. Of course my troops gotten so big nowadays that most of them work under their old thief clan monikers and I lead my personal group, the Huns, but they all still obey my overall commands and rules. That''s how I had the men to spare to watch every harbor town there is.


    Well, with my men gone and my plans finally working as planned, I begin the conversation with the man.


    *****************************


    The leader gives his command for the men to go ahead, towards some town I haven''t heard of and turns silent after that. He remains silent, either waiting for the men to leave or thinking something, I don''t know, but the silence gives me time to think the worst of him, as my mind goes on overly paranoid and starts telling me that the town name is some kind of code for the men to circle and surround me. But my ears and nose tell me that the men are actually leaving and I begin think that the shirtless leader doesn''t want to fight.


    He starts of the conversation without holding anything back: "I guess you''re from Earth? And from the looks of it probably possessed too? Me too! Owl, I think. I''m Ollie Mason back on Earth, here with different name. Oh, from USA if you interested in that. He smiles with rather weird smile, but it is starting to look like he''s not planning to kill me for now. So I answer: "Earth, possessed, most likely a wolf, Johnny Matthews and USA too. Oh, I go by John here, how about you?" "I think that can wait a bit, lets instead talk about what you''re doing and where are you going?" He keeps his name hidden and it doesn''t take too much time for me to figure out why, I have already entertained the idea of local thief king being from our world. "You know, Attila, that had you lied about your name, that could be actual possibility, but instead I politely refuse." He drops his smile and tilts his head little further and asks: "You heard of me? Oh, how weird it feels to be famous, but that no reason to refuse a talk is it? Are you shy?" He actually does the pleading puppy eyes as he beckons me to stay and talk.


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    "You want to talk? Okay, so lets talk; about me? I personally don''t subscribe to the idea that two people from same world in a same situation having to stick together unless they want to, and I''m really not feeling that. About my destination and plans? My business so no. About joining you? Hell no. Great talk." He looks kinda angry about being told to go to hell with his propositions, but I somewhat expected that. He jumps down from his horse and starts talking: "Okay, ugly, don''t wanna talk? Fine, but don''t wanna join me because morals and whatnot? Not fine. I''ve seen enough of movies to know that leaving the wannabe here on his own is a big mistake and debating about how wrong it is to kill to survive gets boring after hearing the same conversation on every movie and TV-series there is. Plus philosophy was never my forte."


    I jump of my horse and meet him near the center of the clearing. His eyes go from being full of confidence and defiance to full on "not going as planned" as I get closer. Not that of a surprise when one notes that I''m half a head taller, I have broader shoulders and lot more muscle than the little guy. "You know, I think my P.E grade was actually worse than my philosophy grade, so let''s talk...?" He ask with humor in his tone and keeps going: "Now that I see the light and the size of its muscles I think I''m going straight" "If your head turns whenever you see beefed-up guy, I think going straight isn''t the right term to use." He actually seems impressed with my pun, that''s a first one, even if you count in my puns on Earth... But that''s not the point here.


    "You know what big guy? How about a deal; you join me and my merry band of... Ethically challenged blue-collar workers, and we stop the.... More morally questionable lines of our ways of acquiring wealth and fame." He asks full smiles. "And what of the less morally questionable lines of acquiring wealth and fame?" I ask. "Well, you know... When in Rome do as the Romans do... What I mean is that we are stuck in a medieval world that''s like a copy of ours, with all the horrifying parts intact, like child marriage, racism, other forms of bigotry, laws defending women being nonexistent, laws defending peasants being near nonexistent and so on... I mean this is pretty horrible place to live in, unless you''re rich and powerful." "Doesn''t mean I accept you doing whatever you want, and I don''t think you''re even trying to fix any of those problems, so whats the point of talking about them?" I stare him down. "Well, the point is that this place is far more accepting of the... Less noble professions, like say, mercenary work?" "You want as to become mercenary group leaders with your band of thieves and murderers? You''d be doing the exact same thing you''ve been doing to this point, but with the excuse of war time, war ways!" I get angry and start shouting midway of my answer. "This way I didn''t want to debate, you just keep shooting down my propositions by yelling about your morals, if you want this conversation going your way, contribute man, contribute. Like make a proposition of using me as your mercenary captain that does your dirty work, while you became some noble or a king with the land I conquer for you. That way I get to do what I want and you get to become a good king or something and implement whatever modern idea or technology you desire to help the poor and weak. You know, the plan to sacrifice the armies of the nobles and the nobles themselves, and maybe, just maybe some peasant supporters of said nobles for the common good?"


    I end the "debate" with a well placed punch on his face, or that how it was supposed to go, but he rather easily ducked under my extended arm and said: "You know beefy, from my point of view, you''re more of a tortoise than a wolf." My answer was simple: "Crap".

 Chapter 16: Lets talk

    "Crap" I answered to Ollie or Owl or whatever you''d call him as he leered under my extended arm. Pulling back to decide a strategy for this fight he suddenly punched upwards, and as I moved to avoid it, he twisted his body, changing the direction of the punch and nailing me in the jaw. "You know, I actually took boxing lesson while I was still living on Earth. And I always have been the fastest." He winked at me. "My condolences for your girlfriend." I mumble back between half closed lips as I cradle my jaw in my hand. He seemed to find that very humorous and started laughing and then commented: "This is why I wanted you to join me, not for any strategic advance two possessed people give in a fight, but for the fact we are both from Earth. I mean, it doesn''t happen like in the movies, you know, when the guy from our World arrives in a different one. When he makes a joke about our pop culture and uses our kind of humor and the natives look him like he''s crazy and he''s all smug about it. No, it''s the exact opposite of that, the people of this world use their pop culture references and their type of humor and I''m left hanging, thinking what that was all about. Being from different world doesn''t make you special, it makes you an outcast!" He raises his voice to emphasize the last part.


    Having decided on a wrestler or other grabbing fight style approach to end this with my forte, strength, Owllie takes the offence first before I can get moving. Hit and run tactic as one might expect from faster opponent, one punch lands as I try to grab him and he retreats, repeated to infinity for few minutes. He grimaces when it begins to clear to him that he isn''t doing sufficient damage with the one punch he can land before being forced to retreat. He also seems to be completely aware why he has to retreat, as he avoid my hands with all he got, but simply sidesteps my kicks, so tricking him on getting closer might be hard. He seems to have an idea as a small smile creeps up tho his face and he starts talking: "You know, I don''t really understand why we don''t see eye to eye with this, I mean, aren''t the weak the plaything of the strong, and whose stronger than us?" So his plan was to get me angry, with kinda pathetic attempt at that too. "You won''t get me angry, especially now that I know that''s your plan." He smiles at that.


    "Angry? How does one make a prude like you angry? How about talking about the girls I''ve kidnapped till this point? I mean sure, I got them as food, but I never really learned the rule that you shouldn''t play with your food!" He answers while the smile on his face deepens. It''s actually working, as I feel my pulse rising he continues: "Or how about the fact how my new body makes the act little difficult, I mean do you know how careful I have to be not to break them during..." At this point I snap and rush in forgetting my plan and begin flailing my fist around, reminding me about the time with the wolf and the spear and how it ended. Predictably he avoids every punch by hairs length while laughing. "Can''t get you angry, eh?" He shrieks between bursts of laughter and avoids my last punch by jumping backwards more than twenty feet.


    "But over the shoulder punches? What, are you readying an imaginary bow? Don''t you know that punches should be done like a boxer?" He demonstrates by taking the Peek-a-Boo stance Mike Tyson was famous for using. But the distance he took has made me calm down I don''t respond to his mockery. He seems to notice and wry smile spreads on his lips as he keeps going: "What, aren''t you going to avenge the maidens... Oh, I guess you can''t really call them that after what I''ve done, now can you?" I pretend to lose it as I rush in, but this time I keep my head low and arms wide to maximize defense and reach. "Now first rule of boxing in a fight is the right style of punching." he says as his stance deepens. As I have reached the optimal distance for him to punch, I''m toppled by sudden pain in my left calf. "Second rule is not to box while fighting!" He says as his kick disturbs my rush, and finishes it by punching me in the face with a straight right. This time it''s his turn to flail around, albeit more successful than mine. As every one of mine missed punches is successfully met by him landing a one. My left hook is ducked and gut punches are delivered in a combo, my knee is avoided with a sidestep and liver punch is delivered with the momentum. Trying to elbow him while turning to face him gets me a punch in the jaw, again. Right jab is met with a counter and my nose starts to bleed.


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    With my nose bleeding he seems to pick up speed and I''m forced on the defense instead. If I lift my hands to guard my face, I get punched in the gut, and reversing the guard reversed the strike too. If I spread my arms so that one guards my face and one stomach, leaving my chest as the only open area, he reminds me that this isn''t the ring by crotch kick. Trying to guard it by bending my legs got me kicked in the back of my head as I''m too slow to respond his circling when my legs are in an awkward position. So I take a pot shot with my right and he grabs my wrist, spins around the back of my arm while still holding my wrist, pulling it further for speed and lands his elbow on the side of my head with that momentum. My stance crumbles and he kick me on the back of my right knee, causing me to fall on my knees and he uses the opportunity to knee me in the face. The bleeding gets faster.


    As I begin to rise, he takes his shot wherever he gets one to land, favoring my liver, gut, face and jaw. With the recent hits causing my head to swim, I don''t raise my defense or even respond otherwise. He seems good humored as he begins talking yet again while still delivering hits as he gets them: "Really? You try to be a hero with this? All you got was your strength and it doesn''t help if you can''t even land a one punch! Oh, must burn to be so powerless even with the new strength you got from the wolfie. What do you think about that?" I spit my response to him, literally, as my response is to spit nice mouthful of blood on his face. Then I get my head back in the game, also literally, as my tactic is to headbutt him halfway across the clearing. Not really the grab and crush I was going for, but I don''t think I can grab him for now.


    My forehead makes a contact with my now blinded opponent''s nose and I feel it twisting, breaking under my skull as he is pushed on his back and into a slide on the ground. He rolls with the momentum and tumbles over further than I could have sent him and rises up little unsteady on his feet. "Now what was that for?" He asks in his humor full tone I''m slowly getting fed up with. "It sounded like you wanted to embrace the beast inside you, and it being a bird, I decided to send you flying." I respond. He smiles and says: "You know, the invitation to join is still on the table." I spit more gathered blood on the ground as a response.

 Chapter 17: Politely talking things out

    I watch as Johnny the wolf pup spits in the response to my deal, wondering where are the manners of our hero wannabe? He rises upright after spitting his mouth empty. I almost made a joke about swallowing, but decide against it when my vision becomes more blurry than it used to be. And for a while now, my vision has been little too blurry for my taste. Shit, how much can a simple headbutt mess me up? My nose is even more crooked than after the transformation I humorously note. But the problem is how my heads swimming, so I''m trying to remember my coach''s lessons about what to do in these kinda situations. Better play time, Wolfie is in better shape than I am.


    ***********************************


    I catch my breath while my head settles down and hear Owllie shouting at me: "Maybe we got of on the wrong foot, or fist, but let''s talk this out, for real now!" I ignore him, which seems to piss him off. He tries to keep the talk going: "Okay, maybe I did do something morally reprehensible, but it''s not like you''re any better than me!" This gets my eyes flaring in anger. I stop catching my breath and start making my way to the Owl-boy. He gets full on grin from that, so I stop and start thinking what he''s planning. If he''s only faking those injuries, rushing in only forces I back to the punching bag position. But what does he gain if I stay here?


    I get my answer after minute or so, as he jumps towards me yelling: "Thanks, just had to play time to get my bearings, figured that confusing you was the easiest choice!" Not the best situation to be in, as he is as fast as ever. Or not, as this time I get my guard up in response to his punches and I keep up with his circling. He looks pained, both physically as he moves and mentally as I respond to his movements, but I can''t still land a punch. I block few left jabs with my right forearm and send a left straight towards him. He pivots on his left leg to avoid it with a spin and delivers a kick to my side, which I block with my right arm again. He manages to slip his leg from my side faster than I can grab it, but neither of us is delivering any hits home this time.


    So it''s time for a plan B. My time to annoy: "What good is the strength if you can''t land a hit you asked? Well, what good is the speed if none the hits you land have any effect?" I tease while rising on my toes, tiptoeing just to prove that I gained back my balance. He actually looks annoyed even though my effort wasn''t the best there is. Maybe I hit a sore spot? "Is that what this was all about? You''re pissed because you liked the idea of being powerful and then somebody much stronger shows up? And now you feel scared and threatened?" The mockery continues. "Powerful? You? Who''s the one with the army? Who''s the one with the reputation? I am! Don''t pretend you know about power when you hide behind morals and let them make you weak!" His tirades are worthy of getting made into a bad villain character in a kids show. This actually quite fun.


    "Morals make me weak? So what, I don''t need to bully the weak to make myself feel strong." I quote some hero from a cartoon I watched as kid. He eats it up and rushes in. I grab on his exposed shoulders and lift him from the ground. "Making mistakes when angry, now where did I se..." I''m silenced by him plunging his talons in my eyes. "Getting angry? Over your childish insults? Or you know, I could have pretended to make you drop your guard." He says calmly, with a smile you can hear from his tone. I lift my forearm to guard my eyes and start to check my vision; left blind but right is fine. But this is a problem for me I realize as we return to the I-miss-he-hits style of fighting we did earlier, but this time he simply hits from my new blind spot instead of actually outpacing me.


    "You want to make someone angry or break them, you got to hit where it hurts." He teaches me as I anticipate an emphasis with a crotch kick, but that never comes, instead he keeps talking: "Like that horse of yours, a warhorse as one can tell from the coat and physique, not something you can afford without killing. So you either stole it or killed someone for it. So, which one is it?" I grunt as a response. "And the fact that nobody has come to kill me, claiming that I''m possessed by a demon probably means that you haven''t told anybody about our condition? And the fact that you go by John here instead of Johnny? It means there are at least two things you lie about to people!" I don''t respond. "Then there''s the fact that you spoke about not hanging with our-worlders. Which means that you met some people here, right? So how many have died because of you? This makes me avoid his gaze for a second, causing him to smile as wide as he can. "So there''s people dead because you, hero? You steal, lie and cause deaths while playing the role of a hero, simply because you got the power to be a one, and the you try to claim the moral high ground over somebody? You''re exactly like me, justifying all things you do with the power you got!" he exclaims proudly.


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    I imitate his boxer stance and begin to retreat backwards, while tracking my feet. He tilts his head as he looks what I''m doing and lets out a chuckle. "And now you retreat your head hung low, dragging your feet, simply ''cause someone told you how much a failure you are. Now this is just too much!" He half talks and half laughs that and comes closer, but still keeps his distance from me. I simply keep retreating while staring at him. "Seriously man, what are you doing?" He ask while lifting his head upwards and I answer: "Just looking." "At what, me?" He stares alternately at my eye and where it''s looking. I answer as my dragging feet goes over sufficiently big stone on the forest bed: "For one of these" And kick it towards his left eye at full force. He tilts his whole body to avoid the stone and I close the gap between us in that moment. My right fist, raised during the small rush in the over shoulder punch he so mocked in the beginning, hidden first by the flying stone and now by my body comes falling down without giving him time to react. I had just learned how hard it is to avoid attacks from a blind spot after all.


    My fist makes contact with his left eye and I feel the socket collapsing under my fist. It doesn''t really matter how I punch, all my punches hit hard after all. His body is slammed on the ground and I make a short kick-stomp with my right leg on his side to stop any attempt at rolling away, snapping one the ribs. Next kick on his shoulder to roll him on his back and then move my leg so I stand on his wrist, sealing his movements. Then I grab on to his throat with my right hand and begin squeezing. He turns red very fast and starts wheezing.


    "You want to break someone, hit them were it hurts? I never played the role of a hero. When the camp was attacked I run to chase the attacker instead of helping the people and when I returned, it wasn''t the triumphant return while carrying the enemies head to them, waiting them to worship me. No, I returned my head hung low, wondering if they accept me or attack me. I never justified my stealing and lying with my strength, but with the fear of the wolf and what it''s doing to me from the inside. I never played the moral high ground by trying to stop you or going around helping people. In fact I been avoiding them this whole trip and I would have let you go had you not attacked me. And being like you? Because I lie and steal out necessity? While you kill for fun, steal because you''re greedy, treat humans as your toys and hunt the weak as a hobby? When it comes to grades, my math grade was never that good either, but I don''t think that the scale of inches and miles were that close."


    He wheezes something in response from between his now blue lips and grabs my wrist with his free hand. Not that it helps, he can''t overpower me, but his as of late shut left eye opens and I see his eyeball. The Yellow iris that paints the whole eyeball seems to split in three pieces. In the center of the all three pieces new pupil is formed and I see his eye stare in three different directions as the irises and pupils of each part wriggle violently. Then each of the new parts starts to take shape independent from each other, and I''m left staring at newly formed three eyeballs crammed into a one socket. Distracted by this horror show I fail to notice how his grip gets stronger.

 Chapter 18: Peaceful resolution

    Staring in the three eyes of the left socket that were bulging like they were about to fall out and twitching like something was pushing them even further than they were now, I felt like letting go of his throat and taking my distance, but I had to finish this now. Or so I thought till the point I realized that my grip was forcefully torn from Ollie''s throat, by either Ollie himself, or the owl-spirit. It was my turn to be trapped by as he holds on to my wrist with his right hand. As I was trying to pry myself free, I felt Ollie''s hand to swell bigger and to my surprise the grip loosening. It was as I pulled my hand free that I realized why, as a shred of skin, from his elbow to fingertips, came with it. Under the now molted part of skin was a new skin similar to that of a bird''s legs. The shedding spread all the way up to the shoulder as did the swelling. The arm kept swelling till it was definitely bigger than its left counterpart, reaching all the way down to the knee, with thicker built and the wrinkled, coarse and leathery skin covering all of it. At the end of the fingertips protruded long, twisted inwards talons. The face also contorted to fit the change, as the left socket had grown and turned more circular, causing the three eyeballs to appear almost like stacked on the socket. Now having shape of a tear, two of the eyes would take the upper and lower part, with their thicker ends meeting on the left side of the socked and the one in the middle having its rounder end facing right.


    The thing now left of Ollie seemed to be confused by the change, so I took a step backwards and as it didn''t react, I started retreating without letting my sight stray from it. But as I was retreating towards my horse, the owl-demon shrieked an ear splitting scream, causing my horse to go wild and start running full gallop, forcing me to turn around and run after it. That seemed to invite the attention of the owl-demon as it run after me and my horse, probably seeing both of as a viable source of meat. Reaching my horse wasn''t a problem as I do seem to be faster when it comes to short burst, but that means the owl-demon would reach us in no time too. Taking hold of the horse''s reins and making it to listen to my orders wasn''t hard either, but it did give the owl-demon time to reach us.


    Parrying the owl-demons right arm to the side as it came towards us didn''t go as planned, as the demon grabbed my left arm that I used to parry and pulled me down from the horse and causing it to stumble over. As the horse laid there motionless, I was trying to get myself free from the owl''s grip for a second time, but my pulling and trashing seemed useless and ineffective. The grip grew stronger as the time passed with my attempts, as did my stress, and with both of those the pain of my wrist. Frantically pulling my hand and prying the owl''s fingers did nothing, and the owl rose standing from its slump on the ground. Now standing little taller than I, two of its eyes focused on me and one on my wrist, as it did the neck twist. And squeezed. With the first loud crack my body lost all of its sense of feeling, almost like paralyzed, but the second crack send burning shards of glass running through my veins. My hand now hanging limp on the other side of the owl''s grip and pain radiating from the wrist, slowly overriding all my other senses I went with a instinct once more and kicked the owl, loosening the grip enough for me to run towards my horse, now half-upright.


    Getting on the horse and getting it to gallop again took me time, but the owl had taken its time too, seemingly to grow small deformed wings on its back. The golden-brown feathers on the wings looked like the hair on his head, which could actually at this point be actual feathers too. But I had made some distance which allowed me to take a small detour and grab a thickest branch of nearby trees and pull it of on full speed. Holding the branch from its thinner end, I was ready as the owl leaped towards me. Using the branch like a bat, I struck the owl hundred or so feet backwards, but it simply got up again and resumed the chase. This time I used the time to locate the thinnest and the frailest tree in the nearby area. Having found my target of the hunt I leaped of my horse as I got close enough and used my only good arm left to rip the half foot thick tree from the ground, snapping roots and causing the bark to split open across the tree.


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    The owl had reached me before the tree was fully uprooted, but I managed to slam it down on the owl, causing the end of the tree to splinter in pieces. I made my way towards the slowly rising opponent and kicked it with full strength, but got my foot caught instead. Instead of letting the owl to break my foot too, I used the owl''s hand as a foothold and delivered a knee to its face. As I feel my foot being freed, I grab the owl''s neck and push it further from me and the end of the splintered tree, only for it to strike me on my back with a familiar headbutt. So Ollie is in control in there? Didn''t matter as he tried to grab my neck, but I interrupted with my good arm. A mistake I realized, as he begin his already tested arm breaker tactic, forcing me to hit him with the only thing I got right now, my broken left arm. The punch came a surprise to Ollie, as did the jolt of pain for me, but I gained back my bearings faster, and moved my legs so that I could do a two leg push to get him a distance away from me.


    Having been pushed few feet backwards and me having retreated another few, Ollie returned to his leaping tactic that he has been using this far, as I hoped. With my plan going as I wanted I lifted the trunk of the fallen tree on my armpit. Ollie leaped right into the splintered, and with that sharpened end of the trunk, sinking an inch or two on each of the sharp wooden stakes poking from the end of the trunk. And with that the finisher, lifting the tree upright once more, causing Ollie''s additional weight and struggling to make him sink and half-an-inch more. But the deformed wings started to grow in size as had his arm earlier, sending shreds of skin and clumps of feathers raining down as they beat, and lifted him upwards. Ollie stared at me for second, but with some of the wooden splinters still sticking out of him and him bleeding fast, he decided to retreat with his newly gained ability to fly. Leaving me on the ground with no horse, food and enjoying the now constantly increasing pain as adrenaline wore off.


    I slumped at the feet of a close by tree, with my back against the bark, slowly sliding downwards from standing position, and looked my left wrist. The broken bones were pushed through the skin by my punch and the wrist was bent on an angle not possible for human, nor for a wolf, so that''s no saving grace now. Open fracture on my left wrist, probably a hairline fracture on my right wrist, crushed left eyeball, scratched and itchy right eyeball, broken and bleeding nose, lost a tooth somewhere too and bruising all over my body. Not good situation and I feel my fever rising as my consciousness slowly slithers away. With the burning of my fever and the stinging of my injuries being the only thing I can sense at this point, I let myself fall asleep for the first time in forever.

 Chapter 19: The fever

    Time passes I lay slumped at the foot of the tree. Five minutes, five hours? Not sure, but a sound of snapping branches makes me open my eyes. I''m greeted by a completely new view of what I remember before falling asleep. The trees that once stood far apart and tall were now broken and charred, with glowing embers forming runes and symbols on their blackened trunks. The once lush green carpet of grass was now a field of ash and the sky had reddened like I was looking at the night sky over a forest fire. And on the left from me stood the wolf, staring at me with its burning eyes.


    I rise to avoid its gaze, only to fall back down, unable to keep my balance. It''s like being underwater, I realize, as I listen to the wolf''s breathing, distant and muffled, but still booming around me. With a hint of being late to realize, this might be happening in my head. Or my soul? I don''t get to think about it any further as the wolf steps closer and breathes a dry, hot blast of wind on my face. Jerk. It lowers it head and brings it down to my left wrist, making me realize what it wants.


    "No." I whisper, gasping the dry air for breath. The wolf meets my eyes with its gaze and I repeat: "No." This time little louder. "I''m not going to take your help if it ends anything like the help Ollie got." I say defiantly, slowly realizing the whisper Ollie left between his blue lips wasn''t answer to me, but the owl. He chose whatever his inner beast was offering, and look what it did to him. I''m not going down that road.


    And with that my eyes open for real, and I''m bathed in the light of a falling sun in the forest where I fell asleep. The fever hasn''t left me and neither has the pain. Now forced to face both of them I do regret my choice a little, but there is no way I''m going back on this decision. So I lift my left arm up and take a good look on my broken wrist, with bones sticking out and hand pointing in strange direction. Taking the left hand in my grip, I bend it back to place and start pushing whatever is sticking out back in. Not the most pleasant thing I''ve done, but the deliriousness I get from the fever makes it easier to deal with. It looks and feels distant, like I''m dreaming or doing it to someone else. Nothing I can do for my eye though and nothing I can use as a bandage for the wrist or eye patch for the eye. I don''t think my dirty, bloodied hides of some beast I wear as clothes would make the best bandages.


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    With nothing left to fix, I place my right shoulder against the tree and begin pushing myself up with my legs. Falling down few times and starting over gets me upright in a moment. Still leaning on the tree for balance, I survey my surroundings. No trace from the horse that left while I was staking Ollie. No map or compass, all my food on the saddlebag. But I can at least still the direction of north by "sensing" the third of the possessed. The lack of food is the only problem then, I would probably heal too if I had something to eat. But the rations are gone and so is the horse, plus I''m quite sure Ollie''s horse ran way too when he let out that shriek back then. Can''t tract anything either with my face caked with blood and the nosebleed surely didn''t help my sense of smell. So heading north is the only option.


    Getting on the move with swaying steps I head north or at least close enough direction of it by aiming for the third one.

 Chapter 20: Fever dreams

    Slow. Agonizingly so. Not only am I moving slower, I have to stop every now and then to rest, then have to use all the energy gained to get myself on the move again. On my second stop down the road I noticed the wolf walking behind me, transparent and unclear, walking in a center of a sphere reminding me of the dream-world I met him in. With each step the wolf took the sphere moved along, changing the world in front of him as the world before him returned normal. But I don''t need his help; the wounds are slowly healing even without it. Only, the bleeding hasn''t stopped and the fever keeps rising. Could be worse, it could be raining...


    ...Day three of walking; now hoping for rain, for something to drink and wash my face from the blood and sweat. The Sun I liked at the beginning of my journey has become my newest enemy, as its rays scorch my exposed skin. Jinxing for rain it not working, growing delirious and desperate as time passes. The wolf now walks on my right, only ten to twenty feet apart. Keeps himself on my vision, tempting for a way out of this hell. I''m not giving in, for now at least. The hunger brings different kind of pain in the mix of burning fever and stinging wounds, like a craving, an itch one cannot scratch, but always on the mind. Distraction is something I need, but having left the sparse forest behind and walking on the grassy plains leaves me nothing to concentrate on.


    Day five or six, with my mind wandering between hunger and pain it starts to be hard to count days or recognize day from night. The hunger has turned from simple craving to actual physical pain and need, a pure need to eat. Wound stopped healing on fourth or fifth day, but bleeding has ceased as of now. Not that it helps, blood loss has forced me to stop more often, and with the healing stopped, so has the generation of new blood. I really need something to eat. The wolf has come closer.


    Day anywhere from seven to ten. My body has thinned a lot. It seems that when sufficient amount of meat isn''t eaten to heal, the body takes from itself. So, the good news are that my eyes are now fine and wounds gone, bad news are that my body is now thinner than in the beginning, my skin has lost its color and I have no energy to move. The wolf now stands right next to me. He came closer and closer as time passed, till he walked right next to me on my travels. Lack of energy and the fever made me desperate enough to try and ride him. I passed right through as I tried climbing on, been lying on this same spot since then, no energy to move or will to try.


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    Day I-stopped-counting-as-I-lied-here, hunger isn''t getting worse, don''t really need to eat but to heal my wounds and satisfy the instinct to hunt, but lack of energy still makes me crave for food. The fever is now the worst of it, Desperation is the second worst. Time passes as I listen the world around me move, watch the wolf as it watches me, wondering why now he''s asking for permission when he firstly made me do what it wanted. Then yet again, I''m in quite similar situation than when he cut my leg, forced to choose between death and corruption. Wait,  when did I start calling the wolf him instead of it? Doesn''t matter, I refuse to give in. But as time passes my desperation becomes greater than my fever, and a desperate man can do things he didn''t think he was capable of. Yes, desperate times take desperate measures to solve. That is how I will justify it, that is how I will make myself understand the necessity of it. Or maybe I''m going mad from the fever... Maybe just to spite the wolf?


    I feared ending up eating other people or becoming a threat that attacked humans on sight just for the fun of it, but I never even thought I would have to resort in this. Bringing my left hand to my mouth and pressing my teeth on both side of the thin finger, my jaw shuts itself in near automatic reflex. One finger at a time, bitten of from little under the second joint. Not that painful as I expected, my instinct to hunt and eat has always blocked of my other senses. Does nothing for the feeling of bones snapping under my bite or the disgust that comes knowing its my flesh. Nor the enjoyment I get from eating meat.


    Enough to get me up and walking. I rip a long shred from my already ruined shirt and tie it around my wrist as a way to suppress the blood flow. Even if my hand ends up dying from that, it would mean more meat for me. And when I find something other to eat, it should grow right back... Right?

 Chapter 21: The outskirts

    Two days since I resorted in self-cannibalism to survive, or two days since I started to resort in it. The fever doesn''t drop a bit because I keep wounding myself, but as long as the hunger is sated, it isn''t a problem. Blood loss is being controlled with the make up tourniquet, the strip of cloth now tied near where my elbow starts, so I''m no longer dropping because of anemia. Thanks to those reasons, I can yet again keep my head clear enough to actually count the days and time I''m lost in here. But my left arm is now worse than ever, only thin strips of flesh cover the bones of my forearm and hand, as I have been gnawing the meat for nourishment. Didn''t bite of the bones like I did with my fingers, partly because of the fear that I could heal to that extend, partly because wasting energy to breaking my stronger bones isn''t that good idea. But it keeps me moving forward.


    And the third day dawns when I make my way into a forest, and to my surprise I find an actual, carriage wide road going through it. First sign of civilization in two weeks, so happy I could drop dead, but that would be rather counterproductive. And Io and behold, my senses tell me that it heads north, so I can follow it! Unless of course the idea that I''ve been entertaining in my head; that Ollie has napped the third one and is flying him or her around in circles to make me walk in circles proves true, wouldn''t really put that below him. No matter, for now I follow the road.


    Hour or two later my instinct flares up in eerily familiar manner and makes me pick up a rock by side of the road. I''m faced with clear command to throw it with full strength towards my north-west in certain angle. Even if the angle is low enough that it should be small animal that I''m aiming towards, I''m not sure anymore, with the ways the wolf has been tempting me. The instinct rises an alarm at that and tells me to throw at the target, before it flees, but after moment of consideration, I simply snap the rock in half between my fingers and make my way towards what has caught my interest. It''s soon clear that I made a right choice doubting the wolf, as I see a young villager rummaging through the bushes, back turned against me. That would have been a mistake.


    I step little closer in order to ask him whereabouts of nearest village, accidentally snapping a small branch under my foot, causing the village boy be startled. He turns around I correct my mistake; I caused a village girl to get startled. And start screaming. Loud. Trying to calm her down I raise both of my hands up in a calm-down gesture, only to expose my not so presentable left arm to her. She screams louder. Rummaging through my thoughts I try to find what one could do in this kind of situation and come up with the most used tactic; smiling. Now showing my sharp fangs hidden deep inside my blood soaked mouth. She passes out, so the plan to not have her to scream her lungs out succeeded?


    Now faced with dilemma, what to do in situation where you''re beastly looking giant of man, with bloodied face and clothes, sharp fangs, diabolical eyes and badly mangled left arm and have caused someone to pass out in the middle of nowhere. Now that I think of it, maybe trying to talk to a child in my position wasn''t the smartest idea there ever was, but I''m still little delirious from pain and fever. Plus I have kinda missed human contact, someone to talk to. Getting cabin fever while outside is just my luck I guess. But my nose makes me ignore all that, as it tells me that the girl wasn''t here because she was lost, but because she was collecting berries. The smell of freshly picked berries whiffs out of the basket she was carrying, but I could steal that could I? The temptation is great, but with the conversation I had with Ollie, I think it would be too hypocritical to start stealing from unconscious people. So I move beyond my now pathetic range of smell and wait for the girl to wake up while out of sight. Let her lead me to the nearest village.


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    Humans don''t lose their consciousness for long, if I remember right. Falling asleep causes one to be unresponsive for few hours, but actually being knocked unconscious doesn''t last more than five minutes, unless something is wrong. Or was that only when the state of unconsciousness was caused by blunt force trauma?  Anyways the girl wakes soon enough, looks around her frantically and when she is sure that there''s nobody here, grabs the basket and runs off. I follow while remembering how I once though of myself as the Little Red Riding Hood, as I was being hunted by the wolf, and now I''m the Big Bad Wolf chasing someone in the hope of finding food. But it works, following her with the only sense I can currently trust, my hearing and we arrive near a house. A peasant house, single room cottage with no porch or any other feature that would make it more than a grey rectangle with a roof. Not a village like I hoped.


    So I sit in the bushes and listen to the girl and her father talk. The girl tells her father how he saw a beastling in the forest and the father remarks how it has to be one of the halflings I''ve heard of. But here comes the important part; after the father tells the girl to get inside and starts talking to the mother of the girl, presumably his wife then, he devices a plan. Because even if they live in the outmost part of the capital''s outskirt, they still live in the outskirt of the capital, they can actually call the king''s men here to investigate a beast man sighting. So they''re going to have the girl tell the good soldiers how she was nearly attacked by savage creature while tending the pigs, and are going to sacrifice one of their pigs as a prob for the mauling part of the story. Of course they themselves will eat the meat, and leave only the carcass to rot here, after giving it convincing wounds. Now, why are they doing this? Because they don''t actually own the pigs, simply tend to them as a job, and with this they get to actually eat meat, which is a rarity for peasants and get reward for the sighting and protecting the other pigs from the beast. The important parts of that were as follow: first, we are in the outskirts of the capital, so I''m done with being lost. Second, capital is going to get reports of dangerous man with my features, so I have to get there fast before the rumors spread. Third, if they''re going to blame me for eating one their pigs, I''m going to eat it.


    So for the third time today, I play the waiting game till the father slits the pig''s throat, and goes inside to fetch better tools for the evidence forging as the blood drains out. Perfect opportunity to grab the pig. Of course they were going to be greedy, and killed the fattest, biggest pig, so I get nearly 600 pounds of meat. With newly acquired prize, I leave the premises and disappear once more into the forest. Don''t think they''re courageous enough to try this again with a second pig, plus it would nullify the protection reward. Things truly are looking up for me I think as I begin my feast. I mean food, directions and confirmation of being close to the capital. Then yet again, I will be made into a criminal... Well at least far better than the earlier days.


    Author note: Season 3 caps of here, with season 4 having him finally make it to the capital and getting some answer to this whole mess. Now, I''m keeping my usual two to three day hiatus here, but I''m using it to get the second story up here on the site. The more-comedic-than-serious-slice-of-life one that I talked about in earlier author note.


    Second, this chapter was kinda hard to write, with Royal Road site not accepting words like outmost, halfling or beastling as correct, even though I checked that that is how you write them. Also the double "that" part in that sentence.

 Chapter 22: The capital

    I feel great for a first time in forever. Having eaten most of the pig, my fever and hunger are gone, my hand has healed and the color has returned to my skin. But my body is still thinner than ever, even though I should have eaten more than enough to return back to the buff-version of me. It seems the body does not return to the shape it used to be before being wounded, but heals to the extend that it looks like normal human, on the limits of what us possessed look like human. Or the wolf is just screwing with me to get me accept his deal, as Ollie did turn bigger as he was wounded instead of losing mass. Maybe it is about how much we have in "storage"? I can eat more than my body weights after all. But no use worrying about that, I''m now like this till I get back to my old routine, which might be hard, as there are now monsters to wrestle in the capital area of the capital. Standing up from my spot near a boulder I used as a backrest, I turn towards the direction I spied from the family conversation and head to the capital.


    After a while of walking I come back to the road I was following before and return following it. Faster this way, I think and look ahead, where I can see an outline of a wall and towers. But here is a problem I didn''t notice before; how do I exactly make it in there? I don''t exactly have the most trustworthy face or money for a toll if they ask that, and I''m much thinner than I used to be, ever, so I''m not sure about fighting being an option here. Not that starting a fight would be a smart option anyway, but still, when in need... I flex my arm just for the fun of it. I think I''m even thinner than the bird-boy before he became the boy-bird. Well, he had no problem fighting me, so I should be able to deal with normal humans when needed to.


    While following the road, I came across a small stream of water, which reminded me that I''m still covered with blood. Following it back to the source, I find a small river. Good enough when it comes to cleaning myself. After having done that I return to the road and keep walking towards the outline of the castle town. I arrive to the gate area of the capital, packed with people. Peasants, hundreds of them, all trying to get in the capital. Should I try to slip in with some of them? No, that would just result in problems for them. Well, I think I can figure something out while waiting in the line.


    Almost my turn, and I got nothing. The passing area is manned by fifty guards, all in gear of bevor-type armors, halberds and steel helmets called sallets. And that counts all of them present, even the ones I can hear walking and talking in the two towers of the gatehouse. I could take them, but few hits would get in and some of them have horns to call support, which could prove problematic and there are multiple civilians on the premises. Plus the soldiers are kinda part of the group of innocent bystanders when it comes to that and I''m not sure I can tear through the thick iron portcullis if they drop it. I guess I could climb it to the nearest window, and move forward from there.


    I''m brought out from my thoughts by someone tapping on my shoulder. Either the guy is really tall, or I''ve shrunk a little, because we are eye to eye. My appearance having come to look more like a normal person would explain why nobody panicked when I walked in here. Now I probably look like very tall, but otherwise normal peasant, whose lack of shirt can be explained by poverty. What a lucky turn of event the nearly dying horribly from hunger and wounds was.


    The man, who is wearing the before mentioned uniform, begins talking:


    "Name and reason for coming to Northall?"


    "John, to talk to the society of wise."


    I went with the truth. Let''s see how that works out


    "John... Have you ever served in the kingdom''s army?"


    "I worked as scout in the western outpost."


    "We have people looking for you... But they said you should be an unmistakable person with a... certain stature over others."


    "Well, I''m taller than all of the people here, except for you of course."


    "...The way they made it sound was that you were taller than the giant they already had with them."


    "Oh, Sam the giant, he is known to..."


    I almost said that Sam is known to exaggerate things, but I don''t know if he was the one talking when they told about me.


    "Is known to what?"


    "Nothing about him, I spoke out of excitement for finding out that my friends have arrived here safely. But the description matches otherwise, right? Black, messy hair and red eyes, tall..."


    This would be a lot easier if I knew what they said about me and if I looked like I used to, but this has to do for now. The guard looks me for a long while, and I start wondering if my eye color has changed with the regression of my possession.


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    "Yes, I can''t deny that, I fix the description we have, you''re free to go John."


    "Thank you, sorry for the inconvenience."


    I''m in, and for the first time here it didn''t take nearly dying to get somewhere! Whistling happily as I walk through the gate might not been my smartest move yet, as it did draw lot attention to me, but it definitely wasn''t the dumbest thing I have done in this world, so I didn''t care. Now, should I head to the direction I was given for my friends, or should I follow the directions I asked and head to the society of wise? Hmm... I''m really feeling it for some answers, so the society it is.


    The capital, Northall, was really easy to move in, as the roads were broad and paved with stones, and there were actual signpost to guide travelers. Maybe this world is more developed than I though, I mean in most stories the capital has few narrow streets paved with mud, and travelers better have a medieval GPS if they want to find where they are going. But the good guiding assistance and roads pay off, and I''m in front of the society of wise before I even know it. A grand building, made with red bricks in Brick Gothic-style, with small patches of white plaster that have been carved into small artworks as ornaments. Well, no use admiring it so I step inside.


    Inside is nearly completely covered with the plaster that has been worked into a room size mural of carvings, adorning the walls and ceiling. The floor is made of white stone tiles, reminding me of the temple I was unfortunate enough to be trapped in. The furniture consists of ebony chairs and tables, few similar shelves and six ornament pillars that don''t even reach the ceiling. Few men sit around the tables and few more are standing near the shelves, studying the artworks kept on them. The business side has stone counter paved with plaster, topped with paperwork. A group of men is going through them as I survey my surroundings. Probably smartest thing to do is to talk to the receptionist who''s free at the moment.


    "Excuse me, how can one access the library and the works of the society of wise?"


    "By being a member."


    A dry answer from the middle aged receptionist.


    "How can one become a member or get an audience with a member?"


    "By filling this and waiting for two weeks for the meeting, being born right for the membership."


    He hands me a paper as I''m becoming disillusioned of the grandeur of the place. Well, last friendly try.


    "How about if one is a member of the kingdom''s army?"


    "Filling this paper and waiting for a week."


    He hands me another paper and beckons me to pass the old one back.


    "I need to see one member and discuss very serious things with them immediately, how can I do that?"


    "You can''t and you won''t"


    "How about if it is about relying information for you people? That what you''re all about, right?"


    "Yes, and that is why we have the visiting hours."


    He is enjoying himself. I''m not, but I''m feeling like making that very clear to him.


    "Okay, here''s a deal for you, you get me someone to talk to or few volumes about the western forest and I mean the Forbidden Woods-one with that, and you don''t get stuck at the top of one those pillars there."


    "We do not allow violence here, please came back later after you have managed to calm down."


    Comes the answer in the same bored tone I''ve been getting them the whole time. I''m not waiting for a week to get answers, especially when Ollie is out there. Well, I did offer a rather fair deal; it was his choice not to take it, so let''s see how high I can throw the fat man. He calls the guards as I step on the counter and six men in similar outfits to the ones guarding the gate come rushing from each of the two doors behind the counter. I simply step down on the fat man''s side of the counter and grab the ends of the halberds jabbed at me, bending the steel blades in my grip.


    "Audience, books or a beating, the choice is yours."


    I get an audience with a man called Lewin, as he got interested when the fat man went to tell them about me and my interest in the Forbidden Woods. Probably have to talk fast and get out before reinforcements come. As I''m being led to Lewin''s study I take closer look at my hands that have small, paper cut like wounds on the parts that pressed against the blades of the halberds. Shouldn''t prove a problem, even if I''m forced to fight the reinforcements.

 Chapter 23: Answers

    I''m brought into a small stone chamber located in the basement area of the building. The walls of the chamber are filled with shelves which are filled with books, leaving only thin strips of the gray stonewalls to be seen. The ceiling is similar gray toned stone that the walls are, so maybe this basement area was build before the upper brick one, or there has been some serious rebuilding. In the center of the room is a large wooden, maybe oaken, table, surrounded by chairs similar in style to the table. More stuff that doesn''t match the upper levels.


    A man appears from behind a pile of books laid on the table. The man is old and balding, with parse gray hair and bad posture, but doesn''t seem to need to rely on a cane to walk. The wrinkled face doesn''t leave you much to describe, as the jaw, eyes and overall shape of the face is hidden by wrinkles, but the proportionally oversize nose sticks out round and freckled. Bushy gray eyebrows are the only thing one can use to gauge the emotion showing on his face, which for now seems to be curiosity. Rising his eyebrows and some wrinkles with them, parts of the eyes come to view as he looks at me and asks:


    "So you''re the man who has caused all this commotion?"


    I don''t have the time to answer as the middle aged man next to me confirms that, and plead the man, who I''m now sure is Lewin, to take some guards with him because of what I did earlier. Lewin simply answers:


    "And what do I do with those guards if this man can truly grab the blades of their weapons and crush them with his bare hands? Telling me horror stories about the enemy''s strength and how useless our guards were when it comes to stopping him isn''t the best way to assure me about the necessity of having guards to keep me safe."


    The middle aged man seems defeated as Lewin''s tone of voice leaves no room for arguments. He simply bows and leaves head hung low. Lewin turns his gaze towards me and begins to speak, but I cut him off before he gets the first word out:


    "I''m not really an enemy."


    Lewin nods to that and walks back to his seat on the other side of the table, hidden behind the pile of books. I follow him and sit on the chair right of him. Small amount of time passes in silence before he speaks:


    "Didn''t you have something to ask?"


    That brings me back from the surreal serenity that has swallowed me up. I had been completely caught in the atmosphere of the silent chamber room. Gathering my thoughts into a set of questions, I begin asking them:


    "What can you tell me about the western forest that allows no one to pass through and the temple hidden within it? And what about the eastern desert and the temple there?"


    Lewin''s eyes open more to that than they did to take a look at me when I came here. Frantically he starts to write down something on a piece of paper, and by looking over his shoulder; it appears to be what I just said. That could prove to be a problem for the plan of me getting answers from him. He suddenly turns around to look at me and asks:


    "What more do you know of these temples and the areas guarding them?"


    A maniacal glee shines in his eyes, now more open than ever. As he waits for my answer, I ponder about telling him everything I know, as withholding information at this point is like shooting myself in the leg, not only does it get nowhere, it actually makes it harder to get anywhere. So I relent under the gaze and begin telling him about my travels from there to here, with there being all the way from my Earth. I also came into the conclusion that telling him about Ollie might as well be done at the same time.


    When I have finished with my story and Lewin has gone through a small stack of papers by writing it all down, the door of the chamber gets kicked open. A guard comes in declaring:


    "We have the area surrounded, release the hostage and walk towards the opposite wall! Don''t dare to try anything, we have used the time you spend here to collect more than 200 men for this task! Resistance is useless!"


    Lewin looks up to the guard with a frown on his face and calmly tells him:


    "This man has not taken me hostage, he has not broken any rules after his short outburst at the reception table after I agreed to meet him meaning that he technically didn''t even force this audience and he has helped me to come closer to solving the problem that is the clouds of calamity we have seen over the horizons. So kindly bugger off and tell the fat receptionist to bring us something to drink."


    We wait in silence as the guard walks of to disperse the troops. This man, Lewin, might be quite influential figure if he can order the guardsmen to disperse like that and call the receptionist like that. After another moment passes in silence the fat receptionist brings us a wine skin filled with sweet wine and two cups. I don''t participate in the drinking, but it would be good for the old man to collect his strength and thoughts, and open up his voice with small bit of wine.


    Having taken the "small" bit of wine, Lewin begins talking about his theory of the moment, which is that he has no theory. My story had had no essential effect on his work, it simply was that he had gotten as far in his travel as a whole inch and my story was regarded as an another inch on that journey, meaning that it was the most impactful discovery only because the other discoveries were so small. I feel the rage building inside of me, but Lewin points for me some books, that have recorded history from the time the temple was built, or assumed to be around same time based on what he gotten from my description of the temple. So by taking the books and concentrating on the ones that talk about western area in total, I begin reading.


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    5-6 hours later I have read through most of the books without finding anything useful. I am currently in the middle of a tome containing the recorded writing styles of that area from all the time frames they could find. Boring and tedious, I would even be doing my math homework again rather than this. Or so I thought till I came to a certain page of the tome, one with squiggles I partially identify from my memories, but from where? It takes me a moment, but I finally remember where I had seen these red curved squiggles, on the painted shields of the black knights!


    I show Lewin these letters and ask about them, and from his answers I understood at least that these are part of an undiscovered tribe''s alphabets. Or apparently undiscovered, as their writings have been recorded to be found from multiple locations, but no name for them or their nation has been found. Lewin originally thought that they could be the Huns, but my story at least solved that to be wrong. There are about 230 letters, and those are the ones that have been found and some of them remain untranslated to this day. Not even I can read them, even though I have an ancient demon teaching me to read. Taking account that one letter means one word and that the writing style is from up to down, it does sound like Asian style writing system, but it is read from left to right. Well, enough of that, I start compiling all the letters on the book to those which remind me of the shield squiggles and those that do not.


    Hour or so passes as I work, cutting down the 230 to 73 ones that look the same as in my memory, form the time that I was half controlled by the wolf, uncaring because hunger and generally hazy from shock, instinct and hunger. Yeah, not the easiest, and proved to be utterly meaningless as I''m left with too many letters by the end. Well, at least I know that it is a three letter sentence, or three word-letter long sentence. But going through all of them is not possible, well it is, but figuring the right meaning isn''t! As I''m clutching my hair in desperation, Lewin turns towards me and says:


    "It has been late for quite sometime now, if you don''t mind, I''m leaving to get some rest. I send some one more knowledgeable about those letters in here to replace me."


    I mumble a yes for him.


    It doesn''t take long for the replacement to arrive and find me practically ripping of my hair. He walks to my pile of paper trash I an hour ago called work and starts going through them. Having stopped after a minute or so, he asks me:


    "How come you haven''t marked any day, moon or sun symbols in this sentence?"


    "The fuck is a daymoonorsun-symbol?"


    "Oh, that explains it..."


    He takes a strip of paper and draws the lunar phases on it before talking:


    "The tribe, which currently goes unnamed, as we have discovered nothing of them other than this writing, and I mean absolutely nothing else, no..."


    "Yeah, yeah, less talking more mooning... Scratch that, just more talking about the moon."


    "Yes, as you wish. The moon symbol is a letter outside the alphabet they used, to both demote and promote different letters to give then new meaning, just like the sun symbol..."


    "Demote, how?"


    "Well, let''s take this letter which means wolf..."


    My ears sharpen as I hear him say that, and I do a quick speed check to match the letter with one of my chosen ones, and it matches!


    "...By butting in this lesser demote symbol, it becomes the word for a dog."


    I ignore what he said by the end of his sentence and write the letter for wolf in the middle of the paper, as it was one of the letters I picked to be a possible middle letter. So for now I have that one for sure, and by using it to determine the two letters left, as not all letters could be combined to look like the squiggle in my memory. Now I''m left with 32, 11 for the upper and 21 for the lower one. Stopping the scribe from droning on and on about symbols, I pull out my new work of art, all possible combinations of earlier said letters in a row, now with the added moon symbols. The moon symbol was actually quite easy to remember, as it is either a circle, half a circle, crescent or a circle with no color in the middle, just had to remember which letter was accompanied by what. The middle one with nothing, but upper letter with higher demotion and lower letter with higher promotion. No idea about the sun or day symbols though.


    The scribe goes through them and scratches of the ones that have no higher demotion or promotion form for them found yet and the ones with no translation available. By crossing off the ones that I don''t think would have fit the situation, I''m left with one: The Nether Wolf and a word the scribe keeps staring at. The nether comes from demoting the word "down/under" and means in pagan beliefs what essentially is Hell, the opposite of their heaven Aether or Ether. So I was right when I called it the hellwolf, damn I''m good. But now I must know about the final letter.


    "What does the final letter mean?"


    "Well... According to our research it means a man or a human when normal..."


    "If you know that, what is the problem then? You didn''t cross it when you crossed off all the ones with no known promotion form."


    "Well yes... It does have a demotion and promotion form... The destroyer and the savior... But they''re heavily argued against..."


    "Why?"


    "...Because it is the demoted form that means the savior and the promoted form that means the destroyer..."

 Chapter 24: The Nether

    I stared at the scribe for a moment. If anything he said was true, the sentence written on the black knight''s shield would be "The Nether Wolf, Destroyer". So now I am become Nether Wolf, destroyer of worlds? But there is a saving grace; the translation is heavily debated after all.


    "You said it was debated, how and why?"


    "Well, when one looks through the other letters and their meaning, like the letter for a lion that can be promoted to a king, one can see that the letters were made using similar thought process to ours. Then there are the letters for down/under being demoted to mean the Nether, an underworld and the letter for up/over being promoted to mean the Ether, a heaven atop the sky, one can see logic behind the promoting and demoting rules. But the letter for man/human becoming the letter for savior when demoted and destroyer when promoted breaks both of those earlier findings."


    "So how come you ever got the savior and destroyer out of it anyway?"


    "We compared the letters to the myths about the Nether and Ether, as those were beliefs in power during the period of time these letters were used. The word used to signify the man following his loved one to the Nether and rescuing her soul from there was always written with the demoted form of letter man. Now, this alone meant nothing, as he could have been seen as a fool or a blasphemer according to their religion, but the problem was that the word was used when the subject were war heroes and people in stories that saved princesses from dragons, so it was decided that the demoted word would mean savior or a hero. Similar process let to the destroyer."


    "What were the myths about the Nether and Ether in essence?"


    "I''m not a scholar of that kind, but I have told you that as a scribe studying the particular letters, I''m somewhat familiar with those myths. The short version is that the Nether is an underworld where the souls of the dead went to be purified; the more the person had sinned, the longer the purification took. When the soul was finished with that task, it would be taken to the heaven above the sky, the Ether, where it would stay in what is called a paradise in the myths, till came the time of rebirth that occurred when the world ended."


    I fell in thought after hearing that. If he is right on all accounts, it seems that it is my destiny to... End the world. Not really the path I would have chosen given the right to do so. But maybe there is something to discourage that in the myths?


    "Is there any mention of a wolf in those myths?"


    "There are 12 animals mentioned in the myths..."


    "Tell me about only of the Owl and wolf, if they''re mentioned at all. Also if you know anything about the temples, the forbidden areas and their placement by the compass, tell me those too."


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    "Yes, the Owl is seen as a kingly animal, the mortal king as he is called. It is his duty to lead the men of mortal realm to enjoy life and stall the rebirth. The wolf is an animal that worked as a guide for the fallen souls; he was the one that took them to the Nether. I don''t think there is any significance when it comes to the locations of the temples, as no animal guards or comes from any specific direction in the myths"


    "Thank you, I no longer need your services, please tell all of this to Lewin when he wakes up."


    "Yes, I will take my leave then."


    As the scribe walked towards the chamber''s door, I leaned further back to the chairs, staring upwards to the ceiling. Hearing the quiet click of the door''s bolt snapping to its place made me realize that I was alone in the room. In the befalling silence I began to go through all that I learned today, about the wolf, the owl and what they meant for me and Ollie. It seems I was the villain of this story; it was my purpose to burn the world of men so something could be born from the ashes, while Ollie would be the hero, rallying the men against me. But maybe there was a purpose in the destruction, I mean according to Lewin and the scribe, the world has shrunk in to a size of a small empire, with lots of people, civilizations, culture, resources, plants, animals and races dying out completely, to only be found in the history and story books. Maybe there was need for the world to be reborn... But that would mean me killing millions, and all that man has built that still stands would be torn down, all the knowledge they have gathered to be lost and all they have created from nothing, the art, stories and wisdom would be destroyed... By me. I spend the whole night alone, just going over this in my head, trying to find an angle I can work this one through.


    Lewin comes and greets me on the morning, followed by a servant carrying plates of oatmeal and cups of wine. Alcohol as the morning drink? Just what I needed after this night. We finish the meal while talking about recent breakthroughs we had, me with my destroyer theory and him with his theory of the calamity clouds, which he now knows to be caused by the possession process. The scribe joins as by the end and tells Lewin his findings and our earlier conversation in detail.


    The breakfast didn''t help with my decision, but it did make me realize that I can''t sit here all day doing nothing so I ask Lewin a question:


    "Does this place happen to have any weapons of historical value in the study, or weapons for studying purposes kept in the premises?"


    "Why yes, we have historical weapons from many different cultures as ornaments and for studying purposes."


    "Perfect!"

 Chapter 25: Meeting up with a friend

    After having asked about the possible weapons I can acquire from here, and getting the confirmation about the weapons being maintained, to some degree at least, I was being led to the arsenal by a guard I haven''t seen before. Well, I haven''t been paying any attention to them really, but he isn''t the one I talked at the gate or the one leading the surround-and-capture mission. It seems that the arsenal is also located within the basement area, on the other side of the building from the study chamber.


    The arsenal was a large room with multiple shelves, racks, cabinets and showcases filled with weapons. After admiring them for a little, I beckoned the guard to leave with my hand and begin rummaging through them in hopes of finding a weapon that can be wielded with my strength without breaking, or even better, one that benefits from it. So that kinda cuts out all swords, as no matter how big or great the blade is, it would snap when wielded with my strength, especially against Ollie. Maces, battle axes and other pole arms should be better choice.


    Walking from cabinet to another I try to find some kind of pole arm that fits my criteria of having long reach while maintaining a sturdy body, when I come across a peculiar type of sword. A single edged blade, with round bladed tip and no crossguard. It is more like a battle machete than actual sword, but having the length that makes it comparable to a longsword, blade that is as thick as my thumb on the non sharpened side, making it more like an ax blade and thick hilt that is bolted into the blade up to halfway of the whole sword, it would be the ideal weapon for me. No fear of of it snapping, no fear of me ripping of the hilt and no fear of my strength hampering the usage of it, I actually think that the ax like blade makes it better weapon if user is stronger than normal human. The weight is probably a lot for normal human, but I wouldn''t have problem double wielding two of these.


    Taking the battle machete with me I walk to the door and show it to the guard and ask if there is anymore of these in building, and if not, if there are anymore in the capital altogether. The answer is yes, and he points me to look at the wall, where two of these are part of a shield-two-swords-combo art piece. You know, one of those what''s its name, with two swords crossed behind a shield, all fixed on a wooden board then hung on the wall as a decoration. But that brings the problem of it being just a decoration, the swords aren''t sharpened, and it would take two to three days to do that. I order with Lewin''s authority for that to be done and take the actually usable sword with me as I make my way out from the building of the society of wise.


    Standing outside in front of the building, I decide it would be good time to meet with my friends from the outpost, and try to remember the directions of I got for the place they are staying in. Shit, I might have to walk all the way back to the entrance gate even if I remember the directions, ''cause it was from there the directions start from. Well, no use grumbling about it, I''m going to have to spend the next two days here at the minimum anyway. As I begin to head back to the gate, I''m stopped by a receptionist or somebody wearing similar enough clothes who tells me that they have prepared a carriage for me on the behalf of Lewin''s command. Must have given the command after inquiring about my orders to sharpen the machete-swords... I should really give them a name, or I''m just going to jump between machete and sword this whole time I''m armed with them. How about... You know what; I''m just going to call them machetes, ''cause that is what they are, even if they''re the battle version of them.


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    The carriage curves from some side street near the society''s building and I step in. Comfortable, and thanks to the fact that nobody is riding with me it''s also roomy. Could get used to being treated like this. The carriage nudges on to move and we begin making our way towards the soldier''s barracks. After crossing few streets of cobblestone, I begin hearing people scream outside the carriage, which makes me grab the hilt of the machete fastened on the left side of my waist.


    Waiting in silence inside the carriage that''s still moving, I try to make out of the commotion was caused by a thief or something other mundane cause in the city or...


    Something comes crashing through the front of the carriage with force enough to splinters most of it, almost slamming me through the back wall. Half leaning half lying on the back wall that can only barely hold my weight at this point, I try to make out what the hell happened. The thing that smashed my carriage to pieces is... What exactly? Humanoid figure, with white, scaled skin and abnormally long limbs, twice as long as it body and half formed tail sprouting from the lower back. Headless, not caused by impact, ripped out with brute force, leaving the neck and throat as nothing more than mess of thin tendrils of flesh, veins and bone. Weights a lot too, I realize as I try to push the body off of me, only to feel the boards holding me up creaking. If I try to push it off, I''m just going to fall through the back of the carriage, which would put me in an even worse situation when it comes to making sense of this.


    Collecting my breath I survey the carriage, which thankfully is still standing. The horses have been killed, but I don''t think it was done by the impact and the driver is nowhere to be seen. Most likely whatever did this first took the driver and killed him, then threw the corpse at me, while I was unaware that I was moving in an unguided carriage, using the confusion caused by that to kill the horses. Yes, that is how it probably happened, and the only one that could have done something like this is...


    Falling down on the horse''s corpses came another thing no longer human, Ollie, mutated even further from the last time I saw him. Now standing twice as tall I ever did, with shoulder span so broad, I don''t think he would fit to enter the carriage even through the hole. Both of his arms were now covered in the leathery skin as were his legs, his body mostly covered with the golden-brown feathers and two pairs of large wings sprouting from his back. His head was attached at the end of a long, serpent like neck that was thicker from the shoulders and thinner from under the chin. The head and neck were completely covered with feathers and he had grown an actual beak, small and thin like owl''s, taking over the nose and mouth of his face, leaving only features to be seen the six eyes, now each of them in their own sockets.


    Opening his beak to speak, I caught a glimpse of his human mouth inside, lips twisted and ripped apart and some teeth still jutting up in disorder, as a ragged voice came out:


    "HERE''S JOHNNY!"

 Chapter 26: Lets talk at the capital

    The shout blanks me out for a moment, which Ollie uses to get nicely perched on the carcasses of the dead horses. Twisting his head in the familiar manner from my memories, he locks his eyes on me, and begins talking with the raspy voice he''s left after the transformation:


    "Ah, I was going to use ''there''s Johnny'' for more accurate representation of the situation, but I wasn''t sure if you would get the reference. Well, the direct quote I used still technically works out, as one would say ''here it is'' when they find something they have been searching for. But enough of the introductions for my side, how have you been Johnny?"


    "Buwha?"


    "Ah yes, exactly the kind of well articulated and thoughtful answer I expected from a person, who has proven himself well versed in the art of philosophy, that you shown yourself to be in our debates about morals. Truly an eyeopening and thought provoking reply, the insight you show to how my inner workings work is just too much for me to argue against."


    Gathering my wits while he monologues about my faults proves successful enough to work, and time consuming enough not to waste on replying to him. The streets have cleared and no city guard has made it to the scene, so civilians are safe for now. With that confirmed, I try to nudge out my machete, only to notice that combined weight of me and the corpse laid on me will bring the back wall down if I try to move too much, which would give Ollie a moment to strike. This is not a good situation to be in.


    "Oh, from the way you''re wondering whose or whats corpse this is?" Ollie says, gesturing with his right hand at the corpse on top of me. "Well, this is the third of us, of the possessed people of course!" He shouts out with a glee.


    "What? How... Shouldn''t he still be trapped by the forbidden zone..."


    "And how did you exactly find your way to the capital?"


    That felt like a kick to the gut. I found here by relaying on the sense that pointed me towards the third. So only thing Ollie had to do to get to him was follow the signal till he reached the third, and then avoid being trapped in the forbidden zone by following my signal all the way till the capital, which is probably how he figured that I was in the carriage. But why couldn''t I see him coming? Does the signal not translate distance, only directions?


    "Now, killing him wasn''t easy, as first I had to trick him into trusting me so I could get him out of that infernal sea where I was at disadvantage, and when we got far enough inland, actually find a way to kill us without causing us to transform further. As you can see from his more serpentine features, I failed at that. Well, I did always think that destroying our heads or cutting them off was the smartest way to kill us, but it proved very troublesome, for the reason of him resisting me for trying to kill him. Who would have thought?"


    He caps his last words with the closest thing he can twitch his face to remind a smile and nods his head towards his left hand. As I guide my head towards it, I notice that he was holding something in it, and I can guess what. Lifting his hand high enough between us and slightly opening his fingers the head of the third comes in the full view of both of us. The head no longer reminds that of a human, with the face flattened to snake like and being covered in the white scales. The large mouth hangs open, jaw broken, revealing nest of needle like teeth and long, thin and forked tongue. The hair on his head has combined with the scales into a something in between hair and scale, in a shape of cobra''s hood.


    "Don''t worry; I already tested if the head can reattach itself. It can''t."


    He says and lops the head in my direction, which thanks to the torso I can''t avoid, and I end getting hit by a severed head. Not pleasant. Ollie begins talking once more:


    "Did you know that because of you I lost the loyalty of my men? When they saw what I become, they didn''t feel like following me anymore, leaving my plans to expand my criminal empire completely busted. Ridiculous if you ask me, I mean those people were thieves and killers and rapists from all corners of the map, but serving a demon is ''just too much''. Heh, it is kinda fun..."


    While talking he suddenly strikes his right arm forth, reaching for my neck with his talons. I barely have time to mumble my apology for the third as I use his corpse as a shield. The talons pierce into his back with ease, but the impact it has pushes me through the back wall and sends me rolling down the street, which I use to further the distance from him. I use the final roll to rise on my feet on a crouching position and pull out my machete with the same move.


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    Ollie looks at me from his vantage point on the horses and says:


    "I was really hoping that I would distract you enough with talking to finish this without you having even the change transform, but... Ah, who cares, the wounds gained fighting the snake-guy have made me strong enough to kill you without trickery."


    He finishes his speech and throws the corpse to block my vision just before making his lunge at me. So much for not resorting in trickery I guess, but I haven''t really believed anything he has said... Well ever. But I don''t sidestep the flying torso, nor cut it; I instead kick it with full strength back at Ollie, and use the cover it gives me to slice at him, which he evades by flying upwards into the air. My response is run to the nearest narrow alley I can find, making it impossible for him to attack me without tearing through at least one house.


    Catching my breath and trying to come up with a working strategy in the safety of the narrow alley is interrupted by a thundering noise that makes me think that Ollie is actually tearing through the building to get to me, but the next noise I hear proves me wrong, a scream of fear and desperation. Ollie yells out loud enough to cover that scream:


    "Johnny, come out and play or I have to be satisfied with playing with these civilians!"


    I walk out between the buildings and look at Ollie, standing next to smashed wall of brick building, holding in his left hand another head, this time still attached. The woman in his hand is still kicking and screaming, so I can''t just ignore her as a casualty.


    "Knew it! Take one woman hostage and the hero comes running with the tail between his legs."


    Ollie moves the grip of his hand so that the thumb and little finger cover her throat with enough force applied to stop her from screaming, while other three fingers are sprawled on the sides and the top of her head.


    "It would be really easy to crush her head from this position, so how about throw the sword away and I let her go?"


    I walk out in the open so that Ollie is directly in front of me, ten yards ahead and slam the machete in the ground with enough force for the tip to sink in far enough for the machete stays standing.


    "Really, Johnny? When I tell you to throw it away, I mean to throw it away. Do you want me to kill this woman?"


    I start walking backwards from my machete before Ollie has time to apply the threat by squeezing little harder.


    "Isn''t it better this way? If I throw it, I can still get it to stick upwards or vertically from a wall, or throw it in a convenient place for me to get it, but now it is between us, so if I want to make a dash for it, I have to run towards you."


    Ollie tilts his head while staring at me and the machete, before starting to sift his gaze on all spots of the surrounding area, trying to figure out my trick. Which exactly is my trick; having him get a slow start because of being wary of traps is the only thing I can do in this situation.


    "Fine, the sword stays there and I let the woman go."


    Ollie says after having checked the surrounding area and gently puts the woman on the ground and gets on the runner''s stance. But I shouldn''t be tricked, he already used the "I played sports so I use sport stances" trick on me once, he is probably getting ready to take flight, so I should prepare to strike upwards...


    As the woman is making her way away from Ollie''s side, Ollie suddenly backhands her hard enough for me to hear the spine crack, causing me to yell out a curse while stunned in place, which Ollie uses to close the distance and smash me to the ground, before stepping on me with his right foot and pressing down.


    "Yeah, you didn''t follow the deal with the sword, so neither did I with the ''letting the woman go'' part."

 Chapter 27: Fair play

    Breathing is getting harder by the minute. Ollie''s face looms above me in a distance I can''t reach, mocking my struggle with his little twisted smirk I can see behind his beak, which he had left hanging open just for that, at least that is what I think. Shit, his mutated leg is massive, reaching from the base of my neck all the way to the bottom of my stomach, pushing it all down with force enough to make my bones creak with every movement I make. The weight of him is no joke either; he could simply switch his weight on this leg if he wanted to kill me.


    "Johnny, Johnny, Johnny, you must be wondering I don''t just kill you right now. Now, I know that leaving the hero to live just so you could have the final talk with him is a rookie mistake, but I really need your answer to this question; will you join forces with me?"


    "What... The... Fuck... Is... Wrong... With... You...?"


    "Ah yes, a predictable response, but hear me out. We had... Have our differences, but as I mentioned, thanks to you I have no loyal men left. Making my way to Bayfort immediately after my mutation, as it was where my personal guards were send, as I hoped to join with them. But as said, they did not intend to serve a ''demon'' such as me, and we had a... ''Falling out''. And with that I mean one of them shot an arrow at me after the negotiations fell through, so I slaughtered them all. I didn''t bother with the rest of my men send into the different havens and port towns, too much work, both the killing and trying to recruit them back under my wing... Wings. The third only showed interest in his family back home, so, well you know how that ended. So the only ally I can make here is you, with the residents thinking me as demon and the possessed dying and showing disinterest. Of course I will simply add you to the dead pile if you say no, so this is more of an offer you can''t refuse than actual offer. So, do you want to join?"


    "Why... Even..."


    "Sorry to cut you off there Johnny, but listening you to wheeze out your questions is such an annoyance that I''m just gonna answer to what I''m guessing you want an answer for. Why? And I don''t mean the ''why are you doing this'' why, as you already marked me down as a hedonistic sociopath who does things for enjoyment rather than reason or plan, which I''m not even going to argue against at this point. No, I mean ''why do I need you to join with me'' why. Simple, I''m a hedonistic sociopath who does things he enjoys, rather than things he needs to do for the greater picture, be it betterment of the world or the opposite of that. So being forced to work for a living is not what I would prefer, no, I want you to work as my agent in the human world and deliver me what I want. That''s why I became the thief king, so that my generals could to all the work and I could reap all the rewards, only tagging on the raids when I felt like raiding."


    "You''re... Insane..."


    "Yeah, yeah, I''m insane, it will never work, blah blah blah. But it is actually pretty easy, I play the role of the villain here in the capital, and you drive me off. That is the step one, second one is that the king sends you, the hero of the capital to vanquish me, with or without troops, doesn''t really matter. Third, you return triumphant carrying what ever piece we feel like proves my defeat except head, as even the heart can be removed from us without us dying. You become noble or a landlord or something and get the access on the needed resources for me to live the life of plenty, and you get on the position that you need to make the world a better place with innovations from our world. You know, the good king bad mercenary captain deal I offered before. Because you still go for a human as you haven''t mutated the plan has a big chance in the succeeding department and the troops send with you can be killed or bribed to join, as they don''t have to serve a demon, but a man with a deal with the demon. Other parts of the plan can be worked as we proceed with it, but don''t think you''re indispensable, I can still get a sufficiently greedy person to join me and play the role of the hero. It just happens to be faster and more reliable to convert a person whose way of thinking I already know.


    "Get... Your... Chicken leg... off of... Me..."


    "Johnny, have you gotten weaker? Now that I look at you, you have shrunk from the last time, perhaps penalty for not accepting the advancement of the possession?"


    "No... You... Just... Gotten... Fatter..."


    With that he increased the force he put on his leg a little bit, cracking one or two of my ribs.


    "Ah, the memories this stirs up, except the positions were the opposite that time."


    Screw you Ollie, I think and sink my claws on his leg. Not really that effective, but I managed to draw a little bit of blood.


    "If you think I''m quitting because you managed to make me bleed you''re wrong, I don''t mind sacrificing the whole leg if it means killing you. In the case you don''t accept of course, I don''t deliver any pleasure from doing that... Yeah, that''s a obvious lie right there."


    "...Ahhahha..."


    "What? I can''t make any sense of your mumbling. Here, let me help a friend out."


    The weight behind the leg eases up slightly and I can talk again.


    "Hey Ollie... Do you think... That ''steel'' is called... ''Steel'' in this world...?"


    "I don''t really care what steel is called in this world, you test my patience with this trivial nonsense, what I want is the answer to the question, do you want to join forces?"


    "It probably isn''t... But our spirits or demons... Translate it to the... Closest thing in our... Language..."


    "Yes, yes, interesting finding professor, still not the answer I asked, so out with it or I crush you, I give one more chance."


    "So... When my friend Lewin... Showed me few things... He had worked on is his lab... Imagine my surprise... That one of the poisons... There translated from... Whatever ''foxblood''... Or whatever it... Was in this world.... Into... Cyanide for me."


    With that I reach in my pocket and see Ollie''s eyes go wide, and before he can recover from the shock and crush me, I reach on the wound I gave him. He flies up with more of a natural reflex to avoid danger than actual thinking, something I noticed us possessed to do often from my own reactions, and see me holding nothing in my hand. But the damage is done, and I make my dash towards the machete. I never met with Lewin after breakfast so there is no way I actually had cyanide with me, nor do I even know if it works through blood, as it is always orally administered in the movies, but Ollie knew neither of those things. But the bluff won''t work a second time, I think as I reach my machete, grab it and swipe towards the sky. Nothing, there isn''t even shadow made by Ollie above me.


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    After taking a quick look around me to confirm my safety, I move my sight in the surrounding, till I spot Ollie crouching on a roof of a building at the end of the street. He looks at me with disdain, probably still mad for being tricked so easily. Brandishing my machete towards him and beckoning him down with my free hand I lay my challenge forth.


    "You know Johnny, those villains in cartoons and comics you read as a kid, who would never repeat the same plan again no matter how successful the plan was? That is because to the stories'' writers were bound by the idea of making profit, and there is no profit in repeating the same story over and over and over again. Well, I''m not bound by possible profit and I''m not one of those villains."


    Ollie gives his little speech caps it off by tearing a hole in the roof of the building he was standing on. With a sift movement he grabs a person on his talons again, but seemingly disappointed crushes the person. He tears the hole wider and grabs the next one, this time smiling confidently as he takes of and lands on the road.


    "A woman hostage, a hero to save her, let''s have a repeat shall we?"


    "You coward!"


    "Put the sword down."


    I repeat my earlier response, but as I''m walking backwards from my machete, I see a flash in Ollie''s eyes and he throws the woman at me, and lunges after her to me.


    "I don''t think that this time you kick the meat shield back to me, right?"


    With no choice or any plan, I''m left with the options of avoiding the woman and Ollie, killing her, using her as a shield, killing her or saving her and killing myself. I choose to to catch the woman. By allowing myself to slide back a foot or two, I manage to kill the momentum enough for her not to be in danger from the fall, I spin around sending her rolling away from us and raise my freed hands to protect my neck. Soon this is followed by me feeling Ollie''s talons digging into my back, and me loosing the feeling from my legs. As Ollie''s talons reach their arc outside my body, I fell helplessly on the ground, unable to move either my legs or arms. Ollie walks from near from my feet to my head while talking:


    "I''d say that you need to put a little more backbone in your attempts, but that would just be inconsiderate of me, wouldn''t it?"


    As I see Ollie''s feet enter my area of vision, I also see the wolf enter it. Staring at me with its red eyes, time seems to slow down, and rest of Ollie''s mockery slows down to incomprehensible mess of noises. I can move now, but I don''t think that my actual body is moving, just the one in here, in this barren, scorched land the capital has become in my eyes. I know what it will offer as the wolf walks to me, so I grab its snout in my hand and press the wolf down.


    "You want to do this? You want to save me so your mission can continue? Then we do this my way; no unnecessary mutations, no extra hands or eyes and no permanent ones either, I want to be able to return human when I choose to. Need inspiration for that? You''re in my head right, so scan for my memories about werewolf-movies and books. If this doesn''t please you, then the last soul you ferry to the Nether is mine."


    I keep the wolf''s snout pressed to the ground little longer than I kept talking for the effect, but release it soon enough. It stares at me for a moment, then explodes into a cloud of ash, with six red fireballs left from it eyes in the center. I don''t really know how to take that, but as the cloud fades and the fireballs lose their brightness, my consciousness returns to my body, in time to push myself away from Ollie''s attack. I watch from foot apart as Ollie''s hand sinks into the ground, deeper than I could jam my machete before standing up.


    The transformation is fast, but as painful as it can get. Then yet again, my flesh is tearing itself off from bones that crack into pieces only to rearrange themselves so the now swelled up flesh can reattach, while my organs liquefy, or at least that is what it feels like, and my nerves stretch themselves so they can reach my now displaced internal workings. But it is worth it, I can walk again.


    Ollie tries to take flight once more, but this time I jump after him, catching on to his leg. Climbing up by clawing my way up his body makes him wince, and he tries to swat me away, but I simply grab onto the swiping arm mid swat. Now with me hanging from his left arm, Ollie dives towards the ground and slams me to the nearest building he can, while swooping up again. I kick myself up from the rubble and scale the wall all the way to the roof, where I jump as high as I can, managing to get on Ollie''s back. His wings provide the perfect shield for me to dig through his feather armor and claw off strips of flesh underneath it. Ollie''s respond is to stretch his wings so the air slams him front up, and folding his wings so we fall. I''m quick enough to wait till the last second before jumping off; leaving Ollie no time to reopening his wings and flying off. He crashes on to the cobblestone road as I slide on all fours away from the area.


    "No where to run Ollie and no where to fly, I won''t let you to grab another hostage so better play fair, cause any moment you waste trying, I will use to rip the hole in your back bigger and bigger, till your wings fall off and I can simply lop off your head."

 Chapter 28: Skirmish at the capital

    I watch in silence as Ollie stretches his arms forward and makes a bowing gesture, bringing his head down and arching his back. I wonder if it is another one of his fake-sportsmanship-tricks, but as he keeps the pose I see his wound begins to heal itself up. The flesh knits itself together with the muscle fibers running across the wound and grabbing onto each other while the skin moves like melted wax, slowly covering the whole wound. And then the feathers grow back, thicker and fuller in color, armoring the spot better than before. But this is good, I did not forget Ollie''s healing capacity when I made the wound, the opposite rather, as I remember how Ollie ran away after being wounded too many times last time we fought. It is not only beheading that kills us, but the healing will stop when we have not eaten enough to sustain the healing process, something I''m familiar with. So either I kill Ollie by cutting of his head or we keep the fight going long enough for him to end up being killed by the wounds. The second way the fight can go is that I start loosing, but if I can manage to wound him so much that he resorts in sacrificing his body mass to fuel the regeneration, he will ultimately become weak enough to be finished off by the guards. For that, I must concentrate my attacks on the wings for the start, and when they stop healing I can begin causing actual damage.


    "Giving me time to heal? Is this the fair play you wanted, or...?"


    Ollie looks at his wings, before folding them tightly against his back, and starts smiling smugly. Well, this doesn''t really make my fight any harder; it just means that if I die he has the chance to escape without further injuries. Nothing to be done there, I prepare for the fight. I crack my neck just for the effect and leap forward, stepping on Ollie''s reach. Ollie immediately responds with a slamming attack done with both of his arms, but I''m already out of reach before he gets the attack on speed. Simply a distraction, I jumped backwards as soon as my feet touched the ground, aiming at my machete further down the street. Right hand on the hilt, pulling up and bringing the blade on my sight, I notice that the tip has been chipped by the constant slamming, but retains enough sharpness for me to force it through Ollie''s skull if I try hard enough. A pleasant thought, distracted by the ruble Ollie dug out and threw at me as continuation for the slam. My armor like fur can take the hit from the fist sized and smaller pieces of cobblestone, so I only avoid the one whole tile he managed to dug out, and move both of my hands on the hilt of my machete.


    Soon enough the shadow size of a van is cast on me and Ollie dives down from the sky, arms outstretched. I intercept with a two hand swing aimed at his head, but his movement is interrupted as he opens his wings, and the momentum is transferred on to his kick, sweeping from front. I stop mu swing and bring the blade back, slide one of my hands from the hilt upwards my machete''s spine as I move it in a horizontal block for the kick, keeping it chest high with one hand on the hilt and one near the end of the spine. Ollie''s leg hits the machete with the lower part of its shin, the blade sinking in the bone, as the foot slams onto my stomach full strength. Nothing I can''t endure I think as a taste of blood rises on my mouth and my body slides backwards, tearing the blade from Ollie''s shin and cracking the bone for good.


    More chips in the blade, but it keeps its edge. Ollie rushes forward, ignoring the broken leg that bends under his weight and begins his barrage of cuts with his talons. Moving on his left side, on the side with the broken leg causes most of his right arm''s attack miss and left arm''s to fail to reach devastating speed, as he can only keep balance on the other leg, so I begin cutting his arms as they come to my reach, making small cut and deep cuts by chance, lopping of pieces as two cuts connect internally and chopping of few lucky fingers here and there. Surprisingly easy and as I manage to cut of his right arm from below the wrist, I make a move towards Ollie''s chest. The left arm block but I cut it from above the elbow and strike the blade deep in his chest, causing Ollie to coughs up blood. And I coughs up blood too as Ollie''s right arm, now healed to a point of his wrist bone sticking up from the wound is slammed on my side, below the armpit and between two ribs. Next comes the strike with his left arm also healed to the point that the bone is sticking up from still pulsing mess of flesh, aimed at my left eye. I avoid by hair''s width by moving my head saving my eye, but the bone carves a red gash on the side of my head. I let go of my machete and jump away, looking as Ollie''s wound heal on a faster pace than before.


    "Didn''t think that I would experiment how different wounds heal? Well, it seems the bone grows first most of the time, giving me a natural weapon if I don''t mid breaking the jutting bone and restarting the regeneration, but as already said, ''for killing you I don''t mind sacrificing a leg or two''. Heh, I also noticed that stretching the wound slows down the regeneration, ''cause it causes the process to create the extra matter to fill the void you leave with the stretching. Nifty if you want to fool the opponent to think you can''t keep up with the damage. And if you''re wondering why I''m risking this much loss for wounding you just once or twice, take a good look at your wounds. I promise you they won''t be healing after wasting all you got saved up in full body transformation like that."


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Ollie''s right, his body has already healed fully while neither of my wounds has even stopped bleeding. For me this is over in one well placed attack while he can shrug off enough to kill an elephant ten times over. And I don''t even have my machete anymore, as Ollie holds it in his hand after pulling it out.


    "Nice idea, using this kind of bladed weapon, but only for the first strike. See how the blade is completely chipped already from constantly making contact with my bones? Only the first strike matters with these..."


    Ollie throws the machete back to me and I catch it midway its lazy arc. The blade truly is a dulled mess after the short exchange we had, so I throw it aside, guess it claws from here out then. I make the first move this time, crouching low with my dash, and avoid his talons digging down from above by. Short slashes to his wrist, causing more bleeding than than actual damage, but he does have to regenerate his blood too, so highly effective for my currently low damage. I keep this going, copying his attacks from the time I was bigger and stronger and he was the faster one, this time just slashing instead of punching, making small cuts all over. Every jab is sidestepped and the forearms length is clawed open on the surface, every straight is ducked under with a cut to the inner thigh for artery damage, every knee is med by spinning around it and forcing him to slowly chase after or I can keep shredding his wings. Slowly but surely Ollie''s face distorts in rage as his own tactics are used against him. Noticing his beak opening slightly I make my move.


    "You think..."


    I jump upwards as his mouth opens to speak and dive my fingers in his eyes, all six of them going blind at the same time.


    "You talk too much, it''s getting easier and easier to predict when you begin talking and the slight slowing down that happens with it."


    He starts flailing his arms around, hoping to hit me hard enough to throw me away, but I tuck between his legs and climb up his back. I trail my claws along the lines of his wing''s growing points to locate them and start tearing into them, steadily clawing along them till the wings started dropping off. He tries to smash me onto the nearby walls, but because his recently induced blindness he mostly crashes onto the buildings with his sides, slowing me down, but not stopping me. When he finally gets one working eye, my work is done, and all four of his wings are scattered along the road, between the ruined sides of the buildings. Of course I jump off from his back, as without his wing there is nothing shielding me from him just grabbing me, something he forgot he could have done after the first wing fell in his panic and rage.


    From behind I have a great view as his wings begin to grow back, only to end being nothing but bone stumps jutting up from his back. Enough damage done I see, and Ollie turns to face me worried look on all his three eyes that grew back. He rushes away from me, making his way around the capital to where we met, probably to eat the horses and the corpse of the third, but I don''t mind....


    ******************************


    Ollie flies back onto the scene, with new blood covering his feathers and few strips of the third one''s and the horses'' skin hanging from his beak and talons.


    "You idiot, you really let me to feed? What kind of irresponsib..."


    He stops halfway, probably because he noticed the feather pieces and blood around my mouth. Ollie''s face flashes with disgust as he looks around the road, taking note that all of the wings, hands and miscellaneous pieces of him have disappeared from here. Taking a good look on me Ollie noticed that my wounds have healed completely, and I gained more mass from the last time. I can see as his face distorts while he is trying to decide if the obvious conclusion is the right one, so I decide to help him out.


    "You know, and I''m not even saying this to mock you, you taste like the spicy chicken wings my mother sometimes bought from the local supermarket."

 Chapter 29: Coward

    Ollie and I locked eyes for a moment before he turned his head to look at something in the distance, which I could not see because of the buildings surrounding the street. After turning to look at me for the second time, Ollie took flight and flew away, deciding that killing me wasn''t worth the risk, even after all he said about sacrifices. Cowardly, but with our size difference the amount of mass he could regain from eating the horses and the third, he probably wouldn''t be able regenerate after few hits anyway, while I did not only heal fully, but actually gained mass from just eating the closest thing to spicy chicken wings one can get in the medieval times. And I can definitely heal from few hits now, so the fight would be even from that point of view, but how the fight went just now would mean that he would probably lose. I still keep my ears open and my gaze in the sky for a surprise attack just in case.


    Having waited little longer than one would think to be the sane limit of precaution and slipping little on the paranoid side, I undo the transformation. As I feel my frame shrinking and my senses dulling, my legs fail me and I face plant on the cobblestone road, unable to move my arms to guard my face. My breathing gets ragged as I fail to even nudge my limbs and I begin panicking till the moment the wolf comes on my view. Looking at it staring at me helps me to collect my thoughts. I did tell it to not make any mutations permanent, so of course it would leave me crippled like after Ollie''s attack to make me keep the mutations permanent by choice. And for extra dose of irony, this way the wolf is keeping its side of the deal as accurately as it can.


    I''m brought out from my comfortable haze that I go into when I''m "talking" with the wolf by approaching footsteps, returning into my panicked state, mindlessly trying to move my limbs to no avail. Can''t even turn my head to look at the approachers without transforming. Waiting as they check through the rubble around me for survivors, feverishly thinking why they''re completely ignoring me, the man clearly in sight. I begin panicking once again, realizing how much it sucks to be completely paralyzed from the neck down. But my impatience is rewarded as one man walks into my view, so I can see his standard guard uniform boots in front of my face, and begins talking.


    "By the orders of the king, John from the western outpost, you''re hereby to be executed on the spot for your crimes against the kingdom."


    "What crimes?"


    "Stealing livestock from the local nobles, attacking their workers, causing commotion in the society of wise, holding the headmaster Lewin and the scribe Jonah hostage, stealing from the society of wise and conspiring with the demon that attacked the capital. How do you face these accusations?"


    "Not guilty, Lewin and the scribe Jo... Something can prove most of those false, and I can''t believe that I have to make this clear to you, but I obviously was fighting the demon, not allying with it."


    "We have the confirmation from all parties that these are crimes committed by you, and the royal degree to prove this execution to be the kings will."


    "So that''s how it is, the king shits his breeches after hearing about our little fight and decided that killing both of us is the only correct choice. Typical in these kinds of situations really, so here''s the typical response; I will resist the imposing of the judgement."


    "I will add defamation of the king and resisting the authorities in your list of crimes then, any last words?"


    "To hear those you have to wait till the day I die. You can quote me on that if you want."


    Well, the peaceful resolution of this was thrown through the window when the king got paranoid about me and Ollie so might as well transform, even though that will waste all what I just ate. But then yet again, not being able to heal while being a werewolf is better than not being able to heal after being killed.


    The guards ax came down with a painfully slow movement from my eyes and I moved away from under it faster than the guard could react. The ax struck the cobblestone with an audible clink as the blade chipped and the guard dropped the ax after his arms went numb from the recoil. This ought to be easy I think just before the one guard behind me stabs me with his spear. It seems that I don''t have to worry about healing; these guys cannot even harm me through the scale-fur armor I''m wearing. I''m still not going to fight, that would simply inconvenience me in the long run, if the people that trust me heard that I attacked the kingdom''s equivalent of the police. Not that I know, maybe the guards are so corrupt that they would cheer after hearing that I killed a few? Not risking it though.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Few jumps get me on the roofs of the ruined buildings, away from the guards'' reach, where I spot something interesting in the distance; Ollie flying away from the castle. Was the cause of the guards attacking me Ollie after having one-to-one with the king? No, there was no time for that, the guards would either be sent out as this moment or just preparing to leave if Ollie was the one convincing the king to attack me. The command to get rid of me and Ollie would have to have been given earlier if the guards were to reach my locations just after the fight. But then what was Ollie doing there? I decide to linger around the area of our fight, in full view but not in reach of the guards to see if there are any new developments happening here. My form doesn''t waste energy after the transformation is done, so I can just run or fight if it comes to that.


    My decision pays off as carriage, far more luxurious that the one I was riding on arrives after half an hour of waiting and listening the guards shout insult at me. A man steps out, and from the reaction of the guards who fall to their knees, I can guess him to be the king. Blonde man with parted hair and short trimmed blond beard and mustache. Square jaw and stern expression with youthful vigor make him look early thirties, but one can see the forming wrinkles around the eyes and the mouth that reveal his age to be over forty. Dressed in carmine cape and darker red colored outer jacket the man stands pretty tall, probably around 6-6.2 feet. The kind of king who was crowned after taking the kingdom by force, by war, which supports what William has told me about the recent history of the kingdom.


    "So you''re the fabled Wolf that fought the demon?"


    "Do you really need to ask when I look like this? If you''re trying to be polite, start with an introduction."


    The king hesitates for a moment and begins speaking:


    "No, I won''t give my name for a demon, and even if you were a man, there would be... Circumstances that would make that very difficult request to fulfill."


    "Well I''m John, not a wolf."


    "Then John, I have a mission for you."


    "After trying to execute me? This is the point where I tell you that''s rich, and you answer ''so are you if you complete this mission''."


    The king looks at me with a quiet anger burning behind his stern expression. Not used for somebody being rude and dismissal of his royal bullshit perhaps?


    "Yes, I do believe so. Complete this mission and you will be rewarded according to your wishes, excluding the ones that would go over what I can provide."


    "I accept, mostly for the added convenience of not being attacked on sight."


    "The demon has attacked my castle and kidnapped my children and it is your mission to kill the demon and return my children to me. The demon said to me that it has taken my children to abandoned fort in the east, near the remains of small village called Corian and that if anybody else than the wolf tries to approach he will kill them."


    Now I feel like total dick, listening to this man telling me about his kidnapped children as I dismissed his reactions of as the tantrums of a noble, while they were that of a heartbroken and scared father.


    "So how many of these children are there?"


    "My eldest son and the heir to the throne, with the looks of my mirror image''s."


    "Wait, only one? I got the impression that..."


    The king looks at me with cold and indifferent eyes. So the other kids don''t matter as long as he gets his heir back? No longer do I feel like dick for instantly hating this guy.


    "What about the rest?"


    "Now, I do think it is the hero''s choice who he saves and it is not my place to tell you if you should risk losing him for the others, but only he matters. I hope you understand that."

 Chapter 30: Lets play a game

    I sit on the driver''s seat of the wagon and watch the passing scenery of the pine forest while thinking about what happened. Two months have passed since I fought Ollie at the capital and the king asked me to rescue his heir and children, with the emphasis on the "save the heir" part of his request. The trip to this eastern fort Ollie mentioned as the place he is keeping the royal children in would have only taken three days of riding alone, a week if I brought troops, but Ollie had insisted to be given two months. I don''t really mind as it gave me the time I needed to come up with a plan, but Ollie has probably set something up too with the time he had granted for himself.


    The first part of the plan was to make use of my own bluff that I used against Ollie, while the second was to regain my old strength, with the added benefit of having this new werewolf form. So after instructing Lewin so that he could prepare everything according to my plan, I headed west, traveling back to the encampment I spend my first two months in and began hunting the local wildlife. The wildlife has gotten even worse now that the third orb was broken, and the outpost has been attacked multiple times by different kinds of animals, each bigger and stronger than the ones that attacked during my stay, but the fortified camp managed to rebel most of them in somewhat successful manner. Losses were great too and most of the creatures retreated instead of being killed, so I hunting them for food was met with a metaphorical form of thundering applause. The royal degree that I brought with me to prove that I worked with the clearance of the king managed to guard me from being attacked by the people guarding the outpost.


    After few weeks of hunting, I had gained more than just my old size and strength back, so I made the preparations to return to the capital. I did take a souvenir from my hunting back with me, as I figured that it would come handy in my plan. Arriving to the capital with two weeks to spare before having to leave for the eastern fort, I added an extra step on my plan, as the third was to take the sharpened machetes from the workshop with me before heading for Ollie. Well, it was more like an addition for the third step; instead just getting the machetes I also had them make me thick leather armor and helmet. Couldn''t be done before the hunt as my height, size and muscle mass increased during it, so making it in my size would have to wait after the hunt and I wasn''t sure if I had the time. I chose leather armor because when I''m fighting Ollie I''m going to be relying on my speed, not my strength, so anything restrictive was dropped out of the options.


    Lewin did his job perfectly on the both assignments I gave him, making what I asked him to make and recruiting both Sam and Gareth for the job of helping me. I brought William with me from the outpost, with the permission of the king of course, so I''m stacked with weapons and allies for the fight. Going over everybody''s part on the plan on the final day after having confirmed that we had all the necessities and that they did work, we headed east on freight wagon drawn by six horses.


    And now I can see the eastern fort in the distance, so I knock on the wooden board separating the driver, me, from the occupants of the wagon and then slow the wagon down to a crawl. Listening as the wagon is emptied while still on the move albeit slowly, I scan the surrounding for any sound or sight of Ollie. Nothing is seen or heard as the wagon is emptied with the distance slowly shrinking, so I wait patiently till the last of the equipment is taken and then whip the horses back up to the speed we were going earlier.


    Coming out of the pine forest surrounding the fort and passing through the man-made clearing in the front of the fort, I arrive at the gates. Wooden gates, made from oak and reinforced with iron that open like a set of doors instead of coming down, as there is no moat surrounding the fort. The fort itself is built from large slabs of granite used to form the curtain walls and round towers one can see from the outside, with the towers having cone-roofs made of red colored flat-tiles. The walls are worn down and full of small cracks with moss growing out of them, and some of the conical roofs have caved in. I can''t exactly make out the shape of the area encircled by the walls, but I can tell from the positions of the towers that it isn''t any basic shape, most likely the walls were built to accommodate the topography of the area. No banners or flags can be seen in any of the flagpoles, but the fort was said to be abandoned. Makes you wonder why though, as the fort is in good shape if one accounts the fact that it hasn''t been taken care of for decades, and it could still definitely house a large group of soldiers. Is it because it was built before the desert had outstretched so close?


    My thoughts are interrupted by Ollie flying out from the courtyard and perching himself up on the wall directly above the gate. His even more mutated now, but that really doesn''t surprise me. Only slightly taller and bigger, but now he had four pair of wings growing from his back, two bigger pairs stretched open, and two smaller folded closed over his chest and stomach. Left arm had grown bigger than the right that had seemingly split in half, causing two right arms to sprout from the shoulder. His face had also malformed from the owl-like round to accommodate the fact that the right side now had five eyes when the left only had four.


    "Arrived and on time too? Color me impressed."


    "Cut the crap and tell me where the children are!"


    "Ah, for them you have to play my game, I did make it for you after all."


    "Rookie mistake, taking the revenge personal. I''m so very ashamed of you Ollie."


    "...You''re not taking this very seriously."


    "And why is that I wonder, could it be because after all you done you just keep losing to me? Or the fact that no matter how you plan and boast you can''t kill me? There''s also the thing that no matter how much stronger you get compared to me, I still win every fight. And now we are here, playing some heinous game on the lives of the innocent, ''cause you''re too scared to even fight me anymore."


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "DON''T GET TOO IMPUDENT!"


    "If it gets you that mad then come down here and fight."


    Ollie looks down from his vantage point without moving a single muscle to descent. I smile and continue:


    "See, you''re up there so you can take flight before I can reach you in case I ever try to. This game is made so that I waste most of my energy and healing stock before you start the actual fight, no? That kind of plan is the only thing you have left anyway, you can''t attack me in my sleep ''cause I don''t sleep and trying to ally with the fourth whenever he comes is probably a wasted effort for you. You''re scared of me and for a good reason; if we ever fought again, I''d kill you. Want to prove me wrong? Yet again that would be easy, you''d just had to fight me fairly."


    Ollie looked at me for minute or two before continuing:


    "The game is simple, I have stashed the five royal brats on the still standing towers and the heir in the tower built atop the central building of this fort. You have ten minutes to to reach any of the children, with the order of going counterclockwise starting from this gate and ending with the heir. Take more and I simply kill the kid waiting in the tower and move on to the next one. The kid is considered safe as long as you manage to touch him or her before the time runs out, so you don''t have to waste time taking them anywhere before the game is over. Of course you can start from the last one, the heir, if you want and move backwards in the order from there, giving you nice 60 minutes to reach the heir. This will result in death of the first two of the children at least, as I will be going through them in the first order. Deviate from either of these orders and I will start killing them randomly without time limit."


    "Oh nice, you rigged the game so that I can easily accomplishment what the king wants, as long as I forsake my own opinions and let the innocent kids die, very nemesis like of you. But do you seriously expect me to believe that any of the kids are alive, knowing you I suspect you killed them as soon as you left the capital."


    "That was something I thought of doing, but you said it yourself, only way I can kill you is to have you waste your stamina and...''Healing stock'' you called it? So if you arrive to the first tower and find the kid dead before time ran out, you simply quit. That would hamper my plan, now wouldn''t it?"


    "And how exactly do I know how much time has passed?"


    "Whit a clock, duh."


    Ollie throws me a wristwatch.


    "With both of having one these, we can easily both tell when the kids die."


    "I''m kinda worried about why you have two wristwatches, but I''m just going to go with that you stole the second one from the third... Who you said was swimming in the middle of the ocean... After the stuff destroying possession event... I don''t really think that''s the case."


    "I didn''t actually come here alone, when I was being pulled into this word I was with my friend, whom I grabbed to save myself from being pulled in, which didn''t work and we both ended here and got chased by the owl. After getting into safety of the altar, we overtime threw lots of our stuff on the bags we had, as we were stranded in the desert, and stuff like wristwatches got really sweaty and uncomfortable. So long story short, after putting our stuff in the safety of our bags, we eventually touched the orb and the owl demon spirit appeared and beckoned one of us choosing to become host or something. My friend of course started talking on and on about how we would share the power and use it to help people. While he was going on with monologue I picked the heaviest rock I could find and you can guess the rest."


    "You''re a real dick, you know that right?"


    "But enough of me, why did you arrive in a wagon that could easily host ten men?"


    "To better take children to safety, my dear Little Red Riding Owl."


    Ollie swooped down from the gate top and smashed into my wagon, tearing of the roof. Looking around to see nothing, he next tore through the floor to see if there was a hidden compartment there. Of course both of those actions were utterly useless, but I didn''t use the time he spend wasting his to attack him, for the worry that the kids were actually still alive and attacking him would cause him to kill them, if he managed to slip away.


    "Satisfied with destroying my wagon? Now the royal children have to make the trip in broken down wagon."


    "Trust me, with the way I have taken care of them these past two months, they''re more than used in living in.... ''Unsatisfactory'' conditions."


    Ollie flew back up before continuing his speech:


    "There''s nothing in the distance that would hint that there are people with you, but..."


    "But?"


    "There is an unusually big boar out there."


    "Huh, that is weird; this area shouldn''t have any boars."


    Ollie looked alarmed after hearing that and continued to gaze the boar for a long time before turning back to me.


    "You asshole, I remember hunting boars in these forests."


    "Oh, my mistake."


    "You''re a real dick, you know that right?"


    "And here I thought that you were supposed to be an owl, not a parrot. But then yet again, you have shown yourself to be a chicken too. You also taste like one now that I reminded myself of that."


    "ENOUGH! Let''s start the game."


    With that we set our wristwatches on the same time after checking that they still worked and I prepared myself for the game.

 Chapter 31: The game begins

    I keep my eyes on the watch while I fasten my machetes on my back cross-hold style. Ollie and I decided that the game begins at four while we both put the clocks to be ten to four, giving as a clear start when the time is right. Having finished my preparations with two minutes to spare I stand up and go over my gear. Leather armor jacket, made in standard style from soft and flexible leather, with stronger coarse leather used as padding around chest, stomach, sides, both lower and upper back as one piece, shoulders, and forearms. The small gaps around the armor show the flexible leather that all this is connected to, allowing better mobility as the gap areas can stretch with the movements. Fingerless leather gloves that reach nearly up to my elbows under the jacket, which I originally didn''t want but the fact that they had iron fillings as rudimentary brass knuckles turned my head. Leather pants made with same idea as the jacket, with flexible leather as base and stronger padding around the shins, outer thighs and crotch. Helmet made with only hard leather segments sewn together and no boots, they would only slow me down. I also check that the machetes are secured on my back and the hilts peeking behind my shoulders allow easy access, with nothing having gotten stuck.


    And the clock strikes four and Ollie takes flight, while I step back to the wagon or what is left of it anyway. As soon as Ollie disappears behind the walls, I carve the location of the heir in the wooden board I used as a seat and prob it up so it can be seen easily. The others only need to read that sign and rescue the heir while I keep Ollie busy with his game. With that done I begin scaling the wall in front of me, as I figure that the gates would be locked, so no need to waste time trying to open them. As I reach the top of the wall I head on my right, going in the counterclockwise route I was instructed to go. Surprisingly easy, there are no traps or hindrances on my way as I travel along the top of the wall. Passing the first tower that has caved in I reach the second one, with Ollie standing on its roof. I guess I found the fist one I think and head towards the nearest window, only to be interrupted by Ollie throwing a dog sized stone at me. I avoid the stone by jumping back, but the path ahead of me crumbles under the force of the throw, leaving me with the options of trying my luck by jumping or finding another way in. So I  decide to do both and jump to the side of the tower, scaling downwards with my claws onto a window of my choice, only to have Ollie drop another stone as I close in, causing me to fall off the tower''s side. He really wants me to go in by the door, which means that it should be the last thing to do, but I don''t have time to waste for only one kind of attempt, so I accept one defeat and open the door without any surprises jumping at me to my surprise.


    The tower''s entrance is a large circular room with spiral staircase running around the inner wall of the tower, but the room is filled with carcasses of dead animals, probably from Ollie''s hunting trips. Well, none of that matters to me so I...


    There is movement between the carcasses, from multiple locations. I place my hands on the machetes'' hilts and wait till the first one of the creatures comes to a sight; a regular human crawls from under the carcass of a boar and more follow. I turn my back on the people as they possess no threat for me and begin climbing the stairs, only to have more humans come from the upper level, brandishing different kinds of weapons at my direction. I grab a machete with my right hand and walk forward to them, causing them to shiver and step back, this ought to be easy. I move forward till one of them jabs his spear at me, which I simply snap in half with one strike from my machete, causing him to run behind the others. The few of the braver ones start stabbing at me with different weapons the scavenged from the ruins of the fort; axes, halberds, spears and bill hooks, all which I strike half from their wooden parts, shouldn''t have chosen polearms as weapons. One of them seems to realize that and grabs an iron mace hanging from his friend''s waist and rushes at me. I simply knee him gently in the stomach as I parry the mace strike. The group catches him mid fall and check if his okay.


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    "The demon was right; the wolf will not hurt us!"


    Comes the shout from an elder man in the group as the inspection is over, which raises a ruckus in both groups. Before I have time to move I begin to be pelted by stones, bones and other hard object the people can get their hands on, while a three men begin ascending the stairs. They throw few hunting nets over me before descending to the floor as the group ahead of me runs back to the upper level, leaving me alone. I don''t think more of it as I rip through the nets, but as I smell something I hadn''t smelled before I stop for a moment to investigate. The smell of lamp oil and animal grease mixed together, coming from five sources; wine bottles with silken cloth stuffed in the neck held in the hands of five individuals of the floor squad. Ollie had seemingly instructed them on how to make Molotov''s cocktails. I begin ripping through the nets as fast as I could, but the people were far faster, only having to lit the cloths hanging from the neck and then throw them at me. The mess of ropes and my leather armor are both ignited after being doused with the burning mixture.


    I wailed as the fireball engulfed me, scaring the people who were cheering into silence and causing some of them turn away as they saw me trashing on the ground. My fur doesn''t seem to burn but the heat alone makes this painful as I can''t get rid of the burning ropes and leather, and the fact that the heat has ruined my eyes to the point of blindness doesn''t help. But nobody approaches me anymore I realize by listening and instead of getting rid of the burning mess I break into a run, dashing through the parting mass of the people. I make it to the upper level without stopping, slowly ripping of the burn-weakened strips of armor and nets. The last of strips take pieces of me with them as they have burned into me or my fur, but I can spare this much without having to restock.


    After the regeneration is completed and I have my eyes back, I take a look on the watch to see if it still works, only for my joy of to be crushed by the fact that it has been fifteen minutes since the game began and the first one would be dead by now. I clutch the half melted clock in my fist and jump out of the window, scaling the side till I reach the wall so I can begin to make my way to the second one.