Chapter 1

I’m getting used to the feeling now. The feeling of being able to sense and feel everything all at once from every living creature. Their hope, their joy, their love, their despair, their fear, their hate. I didn't always know this feeling. At one time I was as empty and broken as what I imagined the rest of the world was. I was an outsider living in a world where I didn't truly belong.

I was raised by my parents, Marcus and Gabrielle, in a home on the outskirts of town. It was by no means a mansion but it was not small. It was old. Several hundred years old, even at that point in time. The brick that it was fortified by had begun to show its age in more ways than one. You could see that some of the bricks had lost color due to the ravages of time that it had faced and ivy crawled along its surface grabbing ahold of any surface it could find. It was beautiful. There was a pool around back that I remember always having leaves at the bottom that seemed to swirl and dance with the water when it was full or the wind when the pool was empty.

The yard was large, several hundred acres if I remember correctly. Most was wooded, the earth always allowed to live the way it was intended to as my father would always say. As a small child I remember sitting on the back porch, a light breeze drifting up from the wood line carrying the sweet scent of the honeysuckle that lined the property with it and saying hello through the sound of the chimes like it had a life of its own and just longed to be acknowledged. More than once, on that ever-gentle breeze, the feeling I received was quite the opposite. There was darkness on the wind. Something whispering from deep within the shadows of the trees. It was like there was a secret there that time had hidden away from the world. Something old that begged to be let loose again. You could almost hear the sound of whispers on the wind, but they were never intelligible. It was always just barely, just enough to tickle at your senses. I wish now that I would have listened to that little voice inside that screamed at me to stay away. The voice that told me that something wasn’t right.

We rarely had visitors, if anyone came near the house it seemed like they would get confused as to why they were heading toward the house and wander off. Most went back the way they came but every so often there would be one that would turn to face the woods and stare like they saw something. Then they would slowly walk into the woods and I never saw a single one come back out. The few that were able to make it up to the house were always so nice. You could say they were considered family. As a child I even called them aunts and uncles. Most of them lived pretty far away so when they came by they would stay for a few days to visit.

Late at night just after the main lights in the house were out, I would sneak to the edge of the stairs and listen to them tell stories. Stories of creatures from other places, good and dark. They talked about them as if they were real, living things that surrounded us always, and most people were unaware even though they were hiding in plain sight. My favorite was always the stories of the dragons. They seemed such fierce and proud creatures. They were everything I was not. But for whatever reason after all the jokes and stories were told and all the laughter died, empty bottles crowding the table clinking into one another, they would all stare at one another like a question hung thickly in the air that everyone was scared to ask hoping that someone else, anyone else, would ask. What felt like hours would go by with no one saying anything until finally someone would whisper, “How are things out there Marcus? Is everything secure? And what of the boy?” Just like that, without fail, everyone would get up and walk outside. I never would be able to hear the answer or know who the boy was and I would always go back to bed with so many questions that I never had the courage to ask the answers to.

It was early one morning just after daybreak and the first rays of the morning sun leaked through my window rousing me out of a restless sleep. I woke to what sounded like several people outside building something. I closed my eyes just listening to the sounds. I could hear the morning song of the birds, the gentle rustle of the leaves in the tree just outside my window. Laughter was probably the sound that filled my ears the most though. Everyone outside was laughing and joking. I could hear my mom, my dad, my uncles James and Edwin and my aunt Elizabeth. It sounded as if my uncles and my dad were building something, but I couldn’t think of why. They just kept yelling, “No no no this one, put this one there.” Then there would be some laughter by my mother, or aunt, followed by seemingly distraught grunts from the men.

I never heard them come in last night so they must have come either throughout the night or very early in the morning. But why were they here? They can’t get out here to visit very often. It's hard for them to get away from their farm. James, Edwin, and Elizabeth all run a cattle farm, which is very time consuming so they rarely can get away to see us. And why would they be building something?

My eyes popped open when the thought hit me. My birthday! It’s my birthday! I am sixteen today. I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. My dad looked up and saw me staring and yelled, “Well good morning birthday boy! Come on down and get some food before it gets cold!” That was when I noticed the smell of bacon and pancakes drifting up from the window below. I ran to my dresser, and as I do every morning, grabbed the necklace holding the medallion that my grandfather Uthur had given me a few years ago. He told me that it was the most important thing that I would ever receive in my life and to never let it go for any reason. I assumed it was just the ramblings of an old man, but even so, he was my grandpa and if it meant that much to him, I would guard it with my life. It was a simple thing. Metal, with the inscription of a wolf head on it. I threw it over my head, along with my clothes for the day and ran downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs everything went dark. All I could hear was laughter all around, but I couldn’t see anything. I could feel it all over my face, that cold familiar sweetness. Someone had introduced my face to a pie.

“Marcus!” I heard my mother yell from across the room. In his most innocent voice he could muster I heard my father say, “What? I was just standing here and the pie just slipped.”

“Sure,” she said with a tone of disapproval. “Damien get over here so I can clean you up.”

I walked over to where I thought I had heard my mother’s voice come from and was greeted with a cold rag. “I swear Marcus you could’ve blinded the boy.”

“Oh, come now, he's fine. It was just a joke.”

“Ha ha dad, that was funny,” my voice dripping with sarcasm, “I could’ve been blinded you know.” Once again, the room filled with laughter, mine included. Though I still don’t think my mom found it too funny because she just scoffed and turned away.

In a rough voice from behind me I heard, “Oh come now Gabby. The boy is tough enough to take a pie.” A smile bigger than when I was laughing came to my face, and everyone else's at the same time. “Grandpa!” I stood up and ran over to him as fast as I could. I embraced him like I hadn't seen him in years. Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing at the same time to turn toward where he was standing. A quick glance at everyone told me that they were all trying to inconspicuously stare at the floor instead of directly at grandpa. That was odd. Was something wrong?

“Well, it's good to see you too Damien.” He took a step backwards and placed both hands on my shoulders. His face turned more serious than I had ever seen him look before. “Are you prepared for tonight? Has your father gone over everything with you? Do you have any questions?”

“Questions? About what?”

Uthur looked directly at Marcus and without a word they both walked into Marcus’s study. Once they left the room everybody else went on laughing and joking like nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place. Slowly I backed away from the kitchen working my way toward my dad's study. As quietly as I could I leaned against the wall where I know the wall to be the thinnest.

“......have you seriously not told the boy Marcus? Tonight is the night of his sixteenth birthday. It has to be tonight if he is to be tested.”

“Come on dad. Maybe it's not him. Maybe it doesn't have to be him. I haven't told him anything about the truth behind what goes on here and our family because I wanted him to have the normal childhood I never had with the loving, happy family that you tore me away from.”

Uthur looked down in shame. “Marcus. I know your mother and I put you through so much for nothing in return. For that I will always be sorry. What I will not be sorry for is that even though the test didn't give us the hoped for results with you doesn't mean it will do the same with him. And you, having been through what you have, know better than anyone else how important what is here is to protect. You and I, as well as everyone else that has watched over Damien, have seen the signs. You see him sitting on the porch just staring into the dark for hours on end. You can see that he hears it call from within the darkness. Even if he doesn't know what lies there.”

Marcus turned to face the window looking out into the garden. The fireflies blazing in the night sky, the darkness of the forest looming in the distance. “You know, he still thinks the medallion is just some trinket you gave him. He only wears it because of you. He doesn't understand what it truly is. But i’m sure if you have any say in it he will know before tonight what it actually is and what tonight will bring.”

All of the sudden I hear a loud thud at my feet and realize that I had just tipped over one of my dad's wolf statues that sit outside of his office doors. Before I could even react to the fact that I had knocked it down my dad’s head popped out of the door.

“Damien. Why are you not in the kitchen with everyone else?”

“You and grandpa took off so suddenly right after he got here. I wanted to make sure everything was ok and that I didn't do something wrong.”

“I see. How long have you been standing there? Were you listening to our conversation?”

My grandpa's voice seemed to resonate with authority, “Marcus, you know full well that he was there almost the whole time. You sensed him just like I did, and he's right, with how quickly we left why would he not have questioned where we went. Damien come in here please.”

When I entered the room I realized that I hadn’t been in here since I was a small child. The door was always locked and I never had an actual desire to know what was inside. Not even an inkling of curiosity. Thinking about it now I wondered why that was. My father would spend hours on end here doing whatever while me and my mother went through our normal daily lives. My mother would tend to the small amount of animals we kept on the property, cows, horses, chickens. Small farm types. Oh and there was her garden. She always tended to her garden. It was the most important thing to her. She had flowers and herbs of all varieties. Each one of the plants had its own special name to my mom. She loved the garden with everything she had. She always told me that the greatest thing we can do is love the things that have always been here and even though she had planted these herbs and flowers, before they were hers they belonged to something that was here prior.

Now finally getting to see my dad’s office I am getting to see the thing that belonged to him. His world was separate from our day to day. Three of the four walls that made up the office were actually bookshelves that spanned wall to wall, floor to ceiling, packed so full of different kinds of books that my dad had begun to stack them in piles around the room. The room itself was fairly large. It looked drastically bigger on the inside than what you would’ve thought possible for a room in this house.

While the bookshelves were impressive to say the least, the most prominent and breathtaking feature of the room was two giant black stone wolves that sat aside his desk. They were solid black metal with ruby eyes in one and sapphire eyes in the other. They sat in the position like they were mid hunt when they were frozen in time. The eyes digging into you, drawing you in. The red one was alluring, but the blue eyes I just could not pull away from. They held my gaze. Everything around me faded into nothing. It was just me and that wolf.

A voice so quiet that I could barely hear it spoke, “We see you Damien. We know what you are.” At first I thought I was just making things up, but then it spoke again. “The time has drawn near for him to run free again. The night will do his bidding and one will rise to face him. One of the purest blood will be chosen. A fallen god, the golden one. Will it be you? We shall see.” Just then the wolf stepped forward. From deep in its chest it let out a menacing growl. It sounded like metal grinding. Step by step it slowly inched toward me. The metal was shining even though there was no light. I was frozen in place. I wanted to run, to scream, to do anything. But I couldn't. I could only stand there and wait for this beast to overtake me. The closer it got the more life like it became. The black metal slowly changed to a slick black coat. The shine that came off the metal turned into an otherworldly glow. It lunged at me, jaws snapping with such ferocity that without thinking I put up my hands in a sad attempt at a defense. It stood over me, it’s hot breath on my neck. The low rumble from its chest filling my ears. “Surrender to me boy. Surrender and I may show mercy.”

Laying on the ground in those few moments after he spoke my brain was reeling from what I had just heard. Surrender? Surrender to what? If this was in my head what was I surrendering to? Myself? Was I going crazy? Something my grandpa used to say to me came to mind. “Damien, you are the master of your own mind. You must always take control when things seem hopeless. If you do that you will never fail.” Looking into the eyes of the wolf I stood. “No, I will not surrender to you. No matter if you are just some weird dream or a part of me or whatever. I am in control of myself.”

The wolf seemed to grow in height as it raised its head. “Boy, you have no idea the mistake you are making by challenging me. You will submit or I will take your throat.” He began to slowly approach me again, the low rumble changing to a full snarl with teeth snapping showing what was to come. The closer he got the more I felt my chest tighten but I would not surrender no matter what happened. I had to believe in the words that my grandpa said to me. I had to be the master of myself. Closer and closer he got. Finally within just a few feet he said, “I will give you one more chance to submit.” When I did not respond he jumped at me jaws open, eyes wide with a murderous intent behind them. I was ready to stand my ground, I couldn’t waver if it was all in my head but suddenly it was blown back by some unseen force. When I looked to see where it had come from in the far distance I saw a small light. I could feel wave after wave of power emanating from within the light. The medallion that was always with me lit up. The medallion itself had changed from the dull metal to a thing of brilliant gold while the eyes of the wolf produced a piercing white light. The light got brighter and pulsed with every wave that passed through.

The wolf snarled and lunged again. “KILL HIM! He must not know who he is!” And yet again wave after wave of pure energy continued to knock back the wolf with each lunge. Eventually the wolf grew tired and in a deep angry grumble it muttered a word, only one. Iciry. I felt strong as the waves pulsed through me. I felt like nothing could touch me. I wasn't scared of the wolf anymore. I turned to see what it was that had emanated that sense of power, of strength, but nothing was there. Just empty darkness. The same darkness that I feel coming from the forest. The darkness that can grab your soul and twist it in the most vile way if you let it. Then it returned to its place by my father's desk, its head lower than it was before now staring at the ground as if it had been defeated.

I closed my eyes and remembered the feeling of strength I had just moments before. I could sense the darkness dissipate around me, the light overtaking its grasp. When I opened my eyes I was laying on the couch that my grandpa was in just moments ago.

When they realized I was awake Grandpa quickly kneeled down beside me and took my hand in his. “Damien, you somehow initiated the ritual without knowing the story. I know you're weak right now. But I need you to answer a few questions about what you saw. They are simple questions for now.”

What did he mean weak? I was fine. I was so strong just a minute ago. I tried to get up but my body wasn't responding. I tried doing anything, moving my arm, my hand, a finger, anything, but nothing was working. What happened? Why can't I move? What's wrong!”

Grandpa could sense and see the fear in my eyes. “Damien. Calm down. You will be fine. I know not being able to control your body is scary but you will regain control shortly. Both your father and I have experienced this. Now I know that Ithic, the blue eyed wolf came to you. In all my years I have never watched anyone be able to make Ithic bow.” He pointed to the statue of Ithic which was now front end down with the head tilted to the side exposing its neck. “I don't know what happened in your mind for that to happen but it did. Because that happened you are to become the head of the clan. As long as you can answer my questions and the predestined traits are present.”

Head of the clan? What clan? What's he talking about? I was finally able to move, sensation having returned to my body, and I slowly sat up. I looked around the room, finally being able to see the statues. Both statues were in the same position. How can solid metal just change? They must have changed them when I passed out. There's no way that was real. A metal wolf coming to life, a light being able to stop it from ripping out my throat. I stood up and ran out of the room, through the kitchen, and out the back door.