The people of Silverport skittered away, leaving the town’s guardsmen to protect them. The half-man, half-wolf creatures flanked me, their movements some of the most dexterous and agile I’ve seen. Their low growls and flaring nebs indicated they weren’t here to play.

Hmm, I made a step back, a clear sign of fear in their eyes; a sign that had them inclined to jump to action. Their slow movements at my sides whilst the werewolf in the middle glared me directly in the eyes and not to mention taking a pre-emptive so that I would focus my fear down the middle was concerning to say the least. It was a simple tactic at face value, but looking deeper into it revealed a complexity that would prove one of two things. Could it be? I wondered, clutching Aviana even closer to my chest.

My mind was ripped from its suspicions when the werewolf to my right had its claws dig into the ground, charging at me and baring its fangs. In no more than a second after, my left side and front were also cause for concern. Gravity Field slammed the right one down. The left nearly ran into a dense Water Wall, but made a lightning-quick turn and changed direction, but its velocity – even at its close range – was too much to stop it from becoming entrapped in the Hydrotendrils that burst forth from the Water Wall. The centre enemy leapt forward, its front claws sweeping across at me.

I ducked and spun to the opposite side, giving me a small opening at its back when the beast’s strike lugged its body a bit forward. Convergence pulled it toward the Gravity Field that I set down before, effectively trapping it as well.

Someone take Aviana, I looked right to the teleportation pad after. Dawn materialised and relieved me of my daughter. The fail-safe kicked in once I pulled the mana from the teleportation pad with Transference. After I placed the arcane-encased mana into the staff of Scien, Riftwalk took me to the Tuvos port in Tyrr, Jynnak. Nothing was out of the ordinary. I looked on with puzzlement.

Does that make sense? I exhaled tiringly because I knew an investigation would have to be completed. A mistake in Kynhall Bridge? Something went wrong with Transference? Not enough mana? Too much mana? Why werewolves and not nearby elves? How the fuck did werewolves sneak past these guys? Do they have something about them that attracts them to the teleportation pad on a biological level? Or was this planned?

I flew upward quickly, and activated Life Perception and Mana Perception, combing Tuvos port with Hawk Eye. Nothing, I rued. This is unsettling. For the moment, I had a couple clones each camp out both the Tuvos and Silverport teleportation pads.

Without a moment to waste, my clones back at Silverport interrogated the werewolves, but it seemed they weren’t capable of speech. However, they were able to understand it.

I spent a while brainstorming which direction to take with this. A lot of things could go much more wrong than it already had, especially with my ignorance of the situation. I need answers, I told myself, opening my eyes again and deciding to ask questions to those I thought had the information I needed. And depending on who the person was, it would be rather aggressive questioning. Sure, it could break the agreement and stop Methelia and Tyrr from ever truly working together. But nothing could be worse than – Hydra’s ass forbids – a werewolf killing a Methelian or a Methelian killing an elf. Death was something that I would absolutely kill to disallow, as ironic as that statement was.

Steyza’s face expression was silenced with an overtone of vexation. After learning the truth behind her mother’s death, she had gotten closer and closer to her father, Fenral Rilas during his jailtime. But what was I to do? He was quite literally the only man capable of turning into the beastly hybrid that I could talk to. “I’m not saying he was involved. How could he?” I asked, hinting at his captive state.

After explaining the issues surrounding sticking my head in the sand with the incident, she finally gave in. Sure, I could visit him without telling her anything, but what kind of a partner would that make me?

The guards brought him out of his cell and he looked at us behind a magical barrier. Despite being imprisoned, he wasn’t unkempt at all. A glint in his eyes shone and he grinned, his manacles shaking as he strolled back and forth, paying no attention to his daughter. “You need something from me,” he pointed out accurately.

“Well, that’s quite obvious.”

He scoffed and looked me in the eyes. I could almost see his carnal sass. “I’m not particularly mad at you for incarcerating me,” his head shook in denial, “but why would I help you?”

“Well,” I Voidwalked right through the barrier, “for one, I’m your son-in-law. But more importantly, your help in this can indirectly assist you. You’re getting treatment, right? At the Morrhiggans, for your ‘illness’.” I leaned against the barrier and folded my arms, “The deal I struck would see to it that the Morrhiggans get an endless supply of mana potions. Think of an SMC with infinite uses for three hours. Think of your mana being regenerated in but a few minutes. Think of your mana pool tripling in size. Think of a group of researchers with no limits to their medical research into your situation.”

His eyes slowly widened with each of my statements. He looked toward his daughter, Steyza. With a sigh, she nodded, approving his trust in my words. “What do you want?”

I made an extra seat for myself, “Earlier today, three werewolves somehow used the Kynhall Bridge. The bridge is a teleportation pad that links a Tuvos port to a port from my homeland. They came to my world, Mr Rilas. Can you tell me if your kin were ever attracted to magical constructs for any reason?”

With a shake of his head, he said no to my question.

“What about intelligence? How clear are you able to formulate strategy and thought whilst in that form?”

A smile formed upon his face and he looked into the air. He closed his eyes and let out a short exhale. “That doesn’t look good at all. It sounds like the ones you dealt with weren’t like me. There are two types of werewolves, one that is almost reduced to the cognition of an actual wolf, and a stronger type that retains their previous cognitive abilities, however, they cannot speak. You questioned them already, yes?” With a laugh, he already knew why I asked the questioned. “Your suspicions were correct. An elf, or group of elves, somewhere, wants to throw a fork in your plans to open this ‘bridge’. Either that, or they have a grudge against you, or the ones helping you build it.” He shrugged, “It could be anything! But,” he chortled, “that’s for you to figure out.”

I didn’t answer, instead I mindlessly stared right in front of me. The almost perfectly white room reflected the blanks I drew in my mind. Great, now I have some shadowy group to deal with! And who knows who’s in whose pockets? With great disinclination, I looked up with an exhaustive exhale. Just the thought of the ridiculously long and arduous steps I would have to take in order to gather information and ally myself with people that would see to it that I would be given protection from the public’s distrust against the Kynhall Bridge. This had to be dealt with smoothly, quietly, quickly.

But something still rubbed me wrong. Why would they attack now? If they wanted the Kynhall Bridge to close down, they’d wait until it was opened to the public then release the werewolves. Doing it now would really only slow down the inevitable, right? Unless, all they want is a little time to do something… Extrapolating the possibilities was knackering, invoking an urge to return to my early days where I’d simply scare the shit out of my enemies and have them do what I want. Well, I probably still would’ve done that if the Kynhall Bridge was something only I benefitted from.

After asking on where I could find more information about werewolves, he described a small hidden bookshelf in his house. In the bookshelf, was an extra compartment with a book titled ‘The Night’s Children’. I picked up the slanted book and wiped the dust off the hardcover.

Well ain’t this some ominous shit… I thought, gazing at the distorted bodies of humans growing claws and lengthening bones in a rather disturbing and painful fashion. Great, I’d found a piece of material I could reference to concerning werewolf behaviour. However, on opening the old book, I’d found that most pages were faded or blurred to the point where the text was illegible. It wasn’t natural deterioration. Someone tampered with it.

My arms dangled in defeat and the book was held loosely. A small piece of paper floated down, escaping its imprisonment from the pages and landing near my feet. Inspecting it, a bit of text was found. Steyza, towering over me from behind, had a peep at it. “It’s an address,” she concluded.

“Yeah, with no name or description. Well, it’s something, I guess.”

Steyza’s hand rested gently on my shoulder, “Did you mean it? Can you really cure father?”

My concentration into this entire werewolf situation halted and was instead directed to my woman. A few thoughts were presented to me by my mind, yet I chose the one with the least closure behind it. “Truth is, I don’t know. Depending on if it is an illness in the first place. Maybe it’s something not to be cured, but controlled.” I remembered what Morrhiggan said to me when I first met the five rebels. The wolf genome merged with the host’s mana itself. I wondered how on earth they could possibly separate such a complete pairing.

“So, you tricked him?” she inquired.

“No,” I gave the piece of paper to her, “I asked him to believe in a possibility.” Shifting my attention to the paper, I asked her to take me to said place. I knew she wasn’t happy about me involving her father, but what choice had I?

We entered a teleportation pad, going off to a far-away residential area. It was a lot more peaceful and relaxing than the bigger cities, yet it retained many of the architecture styles seen in densely populated areas. We stepped out the teleporter and a shiny ball smacked me right in the face, bursting into a spectacular firework. Steyza glared a thunderous intent at the shocked children and was about to storm towards them but I grabbed her wrist and shook my head.

A girl walked up to me, dragging a younger boy along. “Mister, we apologise. We hadn’t seen you in time. Please pardon the mistake.” She gripped the boy’s head as a cue to apologise as well. He did apologise soon after.

Why bow when you guys are taller than me… “Tell you what, I’ll forgive you if you give me directions to this address.” Steyza showed them the note and they both took a second look at it.

“That’s our house, mister!” the teen said – at least she looked teenage. Her long ears wiggled a little, “You want to speak with grandfather, yes? Why don’t you follow us? It’s not far from here.”

“Yes, please lead the way,” I smiled, and her blush was less than covert. We ambled behind the kids, following them. Every now and then, the girl would glance behind at me, then switch her attention back to her brother when she inevitably got caught peeking. Hope it’s not because I’m the midget of the bunch…

“Is this how you charm women?” Steyza whispered to me.

I chuckled, “That’s what it is? Wasn’t on purpose.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I think you knew what you were doing,” she shrugged.

“It’s flattering to know you think so highly of me, but unfortunately, you overestimate me. I’m really just an idiot,” I said, casting Levitate to level our height difference.

In no time, we found the place. “Elle, back alre–”

The old voice stopped upon realising there were strangers, I felt it. “Grandfather, you have guests,” Elle, the pretty young elven girl brought us inside with opened arms.

The man, his mane totally white with age, sauntered carefully. His fierce eyes were of a young warrior spotting the enemy. The combative stare told us the reason that Fenral Rilas sent us here was not to drink tea and chat. Yet, that was precisely what we ended up doing, all for the sake of keeping up appearances for the man’s grandchildren.

“Elle, Bjorn, why don’t you two go outside and play a bit more? I’d like some time alone with our precious guests.”

“Y-yes, grandfather,” Elle sadly poured the tea, weaving her mana into the beautiful sienna liquid. It tasted amazing.

The little boy, full of energy, skipped towards the door, hurrying his bigger sister along. She excused herself and closed the door. The atmosphere only got heavier. The old man could kill with his eyes alone – eyes that were directed at me. But why? Why me, and not us? Steyza did the same to him, glaring at him as if to let him know that if he tried anything funny, he would not have a favourable outcome. And me? Well, I sipped and savoured Elle’s delicious tea. It was punchy, yet smooth enough to pilfer my attention from the current situation with every sip.

“Who are you?” he asked me.

I raised a brow, seated comfortably in the tall dining chair. “Hmm, you appear to know that already, judging from your reactions when you saw me. Why don’t we skip to the crux of this conversation?”

“And that is?” he contemptuously rested his teacup down.

“What do you know of werewolves?” I questioned, and he snarled at me, but that was all. He remained quiet. I sipped again.

“You’d best answer him,” Steyza placed a bit of hair behind an ear, “the tea is the only thing holding his patience together.”

After another snarl, one that was rather feral in nature, he placed a palm up, “Wait, I don’t want any trouble. I’m too old for this,” he bit down annoyingly on his lips. “I lack the exact knowledge, but I can probably guess why the Den Mother has taken interest in the big bridge.”

Den Mother? The werewolf leader? Interesting. “Hmm? Why’s that?” I rested my cup down, paying more attention to the man.

“Game. You see, I have the wolf’s blood in me as well, young mage,” he admitted, which explained his snarling. “For us, stalking in silence, prowling in the darkness, and pouncing on worthwhile and strong prey is the greatest pleasure in life. However, even the strongest elves do not scratch this itch.” A sickening grin plastered itself across his mug, “A land of you humans without mana limitations however, is an extremely tempting venture.” He leaned back in his chair and looked at Steyza, “You are Rilas’ daughter, I can tell. He is an old friend who came to me to find a way to remove the wolf blood in him. He’s one of the Den Mother’s mindless pawns and is not capable of thought whilst transformed, so he looked to someone who was capable. He looked to me.”

“Why you?”

“I’m older now,” he sipped his tea, “and no longer needed by the Den Mother. He must think I’m no longer under her.” With his focus shifted back to me, he leaned further in, and sniffed. “At this point, I already know. But I must ask, are you the man that slayed the fire god, Phoenix?”

My body turned to stone right then. Sure, Celosia was young, but she knew damn well who her father was. And this damn mutt just opened his big mouth and spewed some bullshit she didn’t need to hear! The fire on my hand became a bit distorted. The question bothered her, but not for long. I got the feeling an interrogation would crop up sometime later.

Simple words, but I found it hard to say anyway. “I am,” I confirmed the old elf’s information.

“Then, you must be strong enough. Like Rilas, I also want to be purged of this damned blood!” A low growl escaped him, “If you can guarantee my safety, I will reveal the location of the den, human.” His head drooped, “I want to die as an elf, not a beast with blood-stained claws.”

Steyza’s eyebrow raised, “You know of a way? To revert? Can it be done?”

“Only by the Den Mother, young Rilas.” He stood up and walked over to an old chest, retrieving a long scroll-like piece of paper. “These are the names of those who came to me, all mindless ones,” he extended the rolled list, showing hundreds of names. “They all hoped I could help them remove the wolf blood.”

Hmm, I pondered back on the druid Liana, guardian of nature. Her hold over the Virai tribe was akin to this Den Mother he spoke of. Is it mind magic as well? I shook my head after some thought. It can’t be. This werewolf problem is more of a biological one, isn’t it? Beating the caster within an inch of their life won’t work here… I stood up and decided to seek knowledge. “Thank you, mister…”

“Call me Aroon.”

“Call me Eric, then. My thanks for your help. Whilst I don’t trust you just yet, I still need you to show me where the den is. Keep these with you,” I handed over some potions and explained what each colour did, “use them if you’re in a pinch.”

~

I found myself in the Grove of the Ancient again, relaying the specifics of my issues with the werewolves to Aerellis. A light grunt escaped her, “You come to me seeking knowledge yet again, young one. If you agree to fulfil a task on my behalf, I will impart the wisdom you require.” She handed to me a seed, no bigger than my thumb. “Plant it anywhere during your travels and help me spread my influence.”

I went over to her side and gently stroked along her deer-like back, “Not a problem. What about the werewolf thing?” I brought her back to the topic at hand.

“My late mother, was able to do it,” she said, calling forth a sprite from the nearby bamboo patches with a wave of her fingers. It floated toward us, “And so can I, to an extent.”

“Do…”

“Nature magic. Some refer to it as life magic,” she explained.

My hand totally paused its petting, “Come again?”

“Nature magic. Some refer t–”

“I heard what you said, but why am I only now learning of yet another magic type?”

She shrugged, “Humankind may not know of it because it is only usable by magical beasts. And even amongst us, those capable of it are extremely rare. I know none other who can use nature magic aside from myself.”

“What does it do?” I requested an explanation.

After her explanation, things made a bit more sense, and it also gave me an idea, but that crazy idea would only be attempted after many, many years. According to Aerellis, nature magic really meant creating a biological connection between two beings that were once completely separated. The caster may use another being to change its own physiological self without repercussion, or simply as a source of information.

I thanked her for the knowledge, and flew back home on Skyer, giving myself a moment to piece things together. Nature magic, huh? I thought back on mastering draconic and void manipulation. With both of them, the scope of possibilities was way bigger than I ever thought. I figured that would also be the case with nature magic. In fact, like mind magic, it probably possessed the power to be the most potent magic type. Like arcane, it was a big question mark in my head.

Steyza jumped when I returned to her house, a dangerous ire sweltering about her afterward. “How many times do I have to tell you…” she said in a low-rumbling voice.

“Please don’t kill me!” I put my hands up in surrender.

She sighed, and pulled me onto the huge couch with her. “Aroon and I spoke further,” she took a sip of her wine and swirled her hand with the mana-conductive glove on it, “look at this.” A map appeared in front of us, luminated by soft green and blue light. “Here, and here,” she pointed. “The left one,” she explained, “is where the Den Mother is. The right one’s where the old Den Mother is.”

“Huh? ‘Old’? There’s an ex-Den Mother? Wait,” I rubbed my chin, “how’d you convince the old man to tell you this? You’re hanging out with Anjali too much. Wait!” I rubbed my chin even more intensely, “my boy is getting excited from your amazing cleavage.”

“That last point is completely off topic,” she bonked me on the noggin with a near-empty wine glass.