Author’s Note: First chapter since I got back. Very late upload because I had to review my notes and everything — since I was gone for a month or so. As always, thanks for reading.

Anise ran out of the house, doors slamming with such force that the building shook. The howling stopped. Anise listened for any follow-up. A scream. She cursed and ran faster. The guards began to act as well, running alongside her, their swords jangling against their hips. And it was at that moment that Anise realized, in her hurry, she forgot to bring a weapon.

Left with no other choice —

“You can use my power, you know,” Usha laughed. “Though if this stupid forgetfulness pushes you over the edge, I know not whether I should be happy or sad.”

“Shut up, Usha,” Anise growled. She fell in behind the squadron of guards. “Someone is in actual danger. I have no time to deal with your shit right now.”

One of the guards, clad in steel armor lined with fur round his neck, glared at Anise through the thin y-slit of his helm. The guard wielding a saber with wolf-pommel commanded his men to split into three divisions. One charged forward at death, howling mad to the cold wind, sharp lines drawn into the snow. One other division circled around, bows in hand with arrows lit on fire. The last stayed behind. He growled, “Girl, get back inside! There is a grey-lurker round the corner!”

Anise rummaged through her pants’ pockets and found the official writ issued from the Academy. The captain retracted his hostility, but offered no explanation of the situation to Anise. Rather, he made to issue orders around the corner before throwing his body back behind the corner as a pair of guards flew past him at the speed of a shadow. Frowning, Anise asked the captain for the situation and how she could help.

“Situation?” He laughed. Narrowing his grip on his saber, he snarled. “All I know is the gravediggers are going to have a bloody festival tomorrow. You can help by not dying.”

“I need a weapon,” Anise gestured to her empty hands.

The captain shook his head, body trembling. “What kind of stupid adventurer did they send me? How do you not have your weapon?”

“I forgot.”

“Erikson! Tyr!” He shouted. Two guards at the back rushed forward.

“At your command, Captain Fenik!”

“Erikson, give the girl your sword. Tyr, when we charge, adopt the Romulus Formation.”

Erikson, the bigger of the two men lent Anise a simple steel sword. He replaced his empty hands with a shield which covered his entire back like a beetle’s shell.

“You still haven’t told me the current situation,” Anise looked up at the captain who was shouting to retrieve the knights flung past him.

“Take a look yourself,” Captain Fenik laughed dryly. “Though I can’t guarantee your pretty little head won’t be knocked off by a stray body.”

Anise moved past Captain Fenik and poked her head round the corner.

A chill went down her spine, rattled her entire being. Though she has seen grey-lurkers illustrated in the picture books of her youth, the essence of the beast has never been captured by simple black ink.

The beast moved with a antelope’s agility on its eight thin limbs. Lunged about, its body the size of two men, with every step, men flew — unable to bear the force. Those who managed to dodge were unable to penetrate the thick grey fur. Blades merely bounced off. And then those poor men were stabbed through by the beast’s beak.

Already a stark contrast of black red blood against the bleached white bird skull attached to the front of the torso formed. Such a sight sent fear through the souls of the guards. And the howls of the wolf head protruded from the back did not help.

Though the archers fired their arrows — gleaming stars in the dark — the wolf’s howls knocked the arrows away before it even reached its shadow. And the stray embers simply made the beast furious, causing it to leap away — only to retaliate with the double the bloodlust once the embers died embraced by the snow.

Anise pulled her head back. She looked at the captain with the same grim look. “What’s the plan?”

“We stall until sunrise,” the captain sighed. “I’ve sent some men to fetch oil. We will burn these houses and keep the beast at bay. When Lady Arushi’s light return to the darken sky, we can rest.”

Anise chewed her cheek. “Are you certain we cannot best the beast?”

“Do you know the history of this city, girl?” The captain breathed smoke from the opening of his helm. “We are called Wolfheimsburg because we are favored by the wolves — and by these grey-lurkers. Since our earliest ancestors, we have been favored as their prey. In all recording, the defeat of a grey-lurker at night is a myth, a miracle.”

“So you let your men die in vain?” Anise spat.

Fenik slammed his saber into the snow, a scattering of debris. He growled, “I do not wish the opinion on sacrifice from a girl fresh from her mother’s teats. And it is not in vain. The people will live; it is our duty to die.”

“He has you there,” Usha chuckled. “There’s little you can do, girl. And don’t even think of going out there — if you even kill the beast, we will surely not stop at just one life.”

“And if it comes back?” Anise argued, hands gripped on her own blade.

“That is up to the new head to decide. We may reinstate our Old Ways.”

“I heard that your people’s Old Ways comprised of only offering up young blood to the beasts,” Garth lumbered over to the two with the others in tow. He gave a wry chuckle, “Honestly, Miss Tan’ae, you are making this old man’s bones creak and groan.”

“Where’s Tanya?” Anise inquired, not seeing the squad’s residential healer.

“You may not know this, but Tanya is a heavier sleeper than Belford over here,” Garth laughed with tired eyes and pointed toward Belford who blushed.

“Your squad, I assume,” Captain Fenik commented dryly. He narrowed his eyes and hissed, “That girl’s a witch! Take her away immediately, you fools!”

Horatio conjured his spear, black as death. He stepped forward and asked, “Do you also believe that witches only bring about Corruption?”

Captain Fenik flicked away the ink spear with his own blade. He growled, “Is the reason of our Old Ways understood in the Capital? Do you know of why things are done the way they are?”

Garth gasped and then cursed. “I’ve forgotten! Belford, child, take Sofie away now! Quickly, before she is sensed.”

Shooting a curious glance at the one-armed man, Sofie climbed aboard Belford’s back. Not truly understanding, though complying, Belford began to race back toward the governor’s residence on all fours.

However, it was too late.

A roar pounded through the cold night, echoing against the wind — sent scattered across snow — dangled haphazardly still like a guillotine. Everyone froze, as if ice crept up unknowingly and seeped into their very joints. The soldiers awaited fate with wide eyes, gaping mouths; Captain Fenik closed his eyes, accepting of fate; the Ultimus squad yielded, not certain of fate — except one, Anise.

A lilac miasma poured out her mouth, wrapped round her like silk scarves, and she howled. The thick miasma shattered, sent flying out in shards and striking all near her. Penetrating flesh, sunken into their souls, the soldiers’ eyes became red with rage and were able to move once more.

Fortunate, since the grey-lurker rammed directly into the building which served as cover, causing a storm of debris to plunge down at them.

Diving back into battle, the soldiers no longer feared death. Seized by a fervent lust for battle, they yawped with desire, slamming shields and spears and swords at the beast’s legs. Archers fired swarms of flames with unceasing precision.

The beast was not amused. With a chomp, it tore the foot-soldiers to pieces, flinging their torsos into the air. Timing it perfectly, the flame-arrows struck only the mangled flesh of fallen comrades. Immediately after, the beast charged for the backline. Rather than retreating, the battle-seized archers pulled out their daggers and rushed to meet the beast, smiling teeth bared.

Captain Fenik shouted for his “damn fools to retreat” to no avail. Hopelessly, he too flung himself at the beast with abandon. Smiling mad, Anise laughed as she lunged into battle, flailing her sword.

With no other choice left, Horatio scribbled his hand in the air. Gaining life, his ink spear shot forward toward the grey-lurker’s wolf portion of the body. Chuckling wryly, Garth pulled back, launching himself past even Belford until he was at least some five miles from the conflict. Then he steadied his bow.

It was a peculiar bow. Despite the modifications, it was clear it began its life as a standard issued oak longbow mass manufactured. Yet, there was a scope attached to the front. Odd wood was stuck to the end of the limbs to add length. The typical thin string sinew was replaced with some odd wire. All of these additions was to accommodate Garth’s limbs.

Striking the arrowhead against the walls, a spark flared into existence. Catching the small breath of life with the end of the sleeve hung loose round his stump, he quickly tore the fabric from the rest of his tunic before it spread with his teeth. Wrapping the flame around the arrowhead, Garth took aim.

He waited. It did not take long for the soldiers to dwindle down to zero. Corpses laid strewn across the snow, a patch of blood lilies sow and grown: wrangled messes of flesh and cracked ivory. Anise and Fenik stormed the beast’s limbs, in hopes of entangling it, constantly cutting at them — only to hear the dull thud as the grey fur absorbed the blow. Horatio aimed for the wolf’s eyes, for that was the only vulnerable part he could see. Yet, the wolf possessed the ability to extend his neck like the shadow against the sun.

Garth breathed in. And he let the arrow fly. Spiraling, screeching like a banshee, the arrow pierced through the wolf’s left eye. The grey-lurker bellowed out, throwing its limbs in pure wrath. Taking the chance, Anise scaled up the beast’s limbs as they came crashing down like hammers. Leaping up into the air, she sank her blade with childish glee into the wolf’s head, still recoiled in agony.

She tried to pull her blade away for another strike, but found the poor steel stuck in the wolf’s skull. Shrugging, she coated her fists in lilac miasma and began to pummel the wolf. When the wolf struck back with one of its limbs, Anise deftly leapt off and rolled back to safety.

Though that strike was successful, it only served to enrage the terrible beast. Ignoring the minor inconveniences of flies, it lunged across the snow to snatch up its prey.

Setting Sofie down, Belford pounded his chest and met the beast with his own body. Grappling one of the beast’s legs, Belford held his weight — slowing the beast’s charge, pushing up a mound of snow behind his foot.

Sofie muttered — chanted — something under her breath. She regarded the beast with pure disgust and contempt. She sneered and clapped her hands together.

The cold wind died. A great series of clouds covered the gleaming moon. The torches flickered, sputtered, and wavered until it breathed its last. And a great flame gathered in front of the young girl — a lance of supernova proportions. The very air around it became distorted, a hazy curtain blurring reality. A suffocation engulfed those near as even the buildings weeped and sagged. As Sofie’s eyes glowed red, she thrusted the flame forward at Belford and the grey-lurker.

Horatio shouted for Belford to let go of the beast. The oaf shook his head and tightened his grip on the beast’s limb, preventing it from leaving the path of the fire. Even as the many limbs whipped his back, causing deep welts and grooves, he stood. Even as the wolf sank its maw into his neck, he stood. Even as the bird jabbed its beak into his shoulder, he stood. The blood simply made him seem more primal: larger, stronger, immovable. Muscles bulging, he stood his ground.

The beast squirmed and howled as the miniature sun flew toward it at blinding speeds. Belford tightened his back, becoming a great bulwark of flesh, to absorb the impact.

A great burst of hot air, mass of thick steam, then it was over. Anise and the others brushed the haze from their eyes and gasped. Their hearts seized with sheer fear, a penetrating chill, as they laid eyes on the aftermath.

Rather than a horrid execution, there was no damage at all. A lone creature stood in front of the grey-lurker and Belford. It was a peculiar specimen. Standing on the hindlegs of a beast, it measured only the height of an average man. It held no fur besides what covered its legs — rather, its grey skin (if one can call it skin) was akin to tanned leather, wrinkled and dry, wrapped grotesque and too tight over its frame. And this skin wrapped around a head with no eyes, nostril, or mouth, but the mere shadows of such orifices. Atop its head was the skull of a bird, perhaps a vulture, worn as a crown of sorts. And this king of sorts wielded a staff with the skull of a wolf.

Captain Fenik collapsed onto his knees. He laughed bitterly and threw his saber away. Looking at the mysterious beast, he cried to the night sky, “A King! Of course, of course! Ha. Hahaha! Long live the King!”

The others looked at Fenik with confusion and worry, even Garth, the most learned of the group.

“What’s a King?” Horatio asked, his eyes on the new beast. Ever so few seconds, he flicked his eyes at Belford who panted and shook, then at Sofie who laid unconscious after her incantation.

Captain Fenik looked at Horatio with dead eyes — wide orbs of nothing — and laughed. “A King is death incarnate. There is no hope. None at all, but to become its loyal subject. To feed and nurture it.”

Before Horatio can engage the topic further, the King moved. It moved slow, sauntering across the snow. Not because it was hurt, not because it was scared, but because it was King. Who dared to move faster than it?

Anise wanted to move, but even bolstered by the bloodlust of the fallen goddess, she found herself unable to.

“Usha,” she shouted in her mind, “what’s going on?”

Usha giggled, a shrill pitch like suicide. “My, that’s a King. At your current acceptance of my soul, you will never be able to rebel against it. For it is King of all things in its domain.”

“Cut the crap,” Anise scowled. “What the hell is a King?”

“It is the leader of the grey-lurkers, an evolved form of these magnificent beasts after consuming enough souls — though, a grey-lurker would consider it their god instead. A delicious soul like that girl's over there is quite nutritious. Stronger, faster, smarter; already it is far more elegant than these mutts, but it is impervious to fire as well.”

“Then what the hell is it weak against?”

“Swords. Fists. The usual thing. After all, it has shed its fur in order to become more like a man — to ascend to be like god. Of course, that does not mean it is weak either, for it possess magic far beyond imagination and its own army of grey-lurkers, among other inherent abilities.”

Anise smiled, “Finally, some good news.”

“Then you accept me, girl?” Usha giggled once more.

“Just give me your strength, fallen one.”

“Oh, fallen one. You address me proper for once,” Usha exclaimed in delight, as she gave more of herself to the human.

Anise screamed and writhed in pain as Usha gave more of her twisted soul to her human vessel.

The young lady’s veins bulged and ruptured as a lilac miasma seeped out, before healing. Her eyes took on an iridescent glow. She bolted herself forward, fist already in motion, with a laughter like the shattering of glass.

Sensing the disturbance, the King simply turned and thrusted its staff to the sky. A great flurry of snow lifted from the ground and swirled in haunting unison like a swarm of locusts. Biting at Anise, the young lady came out of it battered and bitten by frost. With another movement of its staff, the snow became a great fang of ice hovered over Anise. Stamping its staff onto the ground, the fang fell.

Throwing herself to the side, Anise dodged. Going on all fours, she rushed at the King once more. With another swing of its staff, the King sent the fang of ice impaled in the ground shattering, flinging the shards like a maelstrom of blades at the rebel warrior. Quickly getting trapped by the vortex, Anise was unable to find a path out. The King stamped its staff onto the ground once more. The maelstrom of blades snapped closed inwards, driving each blade deep into Anise.

The girl fell. The King satisfied, waved its staff and the blades melted into snow once more. Once more it sauntered over toward Sofie. The others bled, hoping to move, but the King’s imperial aura oppressed their every movement. Once it held Sofie in its arms, it left. The King dove into the snow as if it was a pool of water, and it disappeared.

Silence hung over the squad. It was quickly broken when the grey-lurker moved once more. Caught off guard, Belford was thrown into a nearby wall and knocked unconscious. Rushing for the one who took out its eye, the beast howled.

Horatio acted and sent his ink spear to stall the beast. However, the spear was but a sapling in the face of the beast, and was easily brushed away. Despite the five miles distance between Garth and the grey-lurker, the large beast covered the distance in but a few bounds.

Then it stopped. Its shoulders sagged and its head sanked. The beast pulled its limbs inwards toward itself. Huddled, it closed its eyes in slumber. Garth noticed a lullaby being played. He turned his head to see the approach of an elderly woman with long gray braids. She walked tall and with back straight as she played her flute.

Garth thanked the old woman. He remarked, “I assume you must be the temporary head of Wolfsheimburg.”

The old woman did not respond. Rather, she kept playing the lullaby until its end. Then from her coat, she took out a twisted dagger. Muttering some prayers, with a deft movement of her arm, she jabbed the dagger into the beast’s bird skull. And as if a memory, the entire beast faded into ash, carried by the wind.

Still not responding to Garth, the old woman went over to Captain Fenik. She took off his helm and slapped him. With an angry sigh, she commanded, “Captain Fenik! What are you doing, kneeling in front of this old woman? Go and fetch the medics and doctors. Surely, some of your men still lives. And at the very least, these guests need treatment. Furthermore, the gravediggers. We must set a date. There is much to do, so get to it!”

Woke from his delusions, Captain Fenik nodded and ran off.

Then the old woman turned back to the Ultimus squad who has gathered around Anise and Belford. She turned to Garth after stashing away her flute. “I suppose I am the temporary head of Wolfsheimburg. Though dawn barely approaches, I assume you all wish to speak to me quite urgently. Well, pick up your fallen and follow me.”

Without another word, the old woman walked toward her house, not slowing or turning to see if the others were following. Horatio exchanged a bitter glance at Anise, then at Garth. The one-armed man shrugged and smiled wry. Horatio placed Anise into his arms. He noticed her wounds already healing and scowled even more. With the help of Garth, they were able to hoist even Belford up.

Before they arrived at the old woman’s house, Anise woke. She and Horatio shared a look. There was a reason to fear and be wary of those who practice the Script. All who are of that particular magic have ink fill their eyes, rendering it black — and unreadable.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Horatio answered stiffly.

The old woman’s house was a small cottage, but well furnished and emitting an inviting aura. Though the many wolf decor and stuffed animals gave the house a rather intimidating feel.

Sitting down in the living room, the air was tense. The old woman took the entirety of one couch for herself despite being rather thin. Belford took up the old woman’s bed instead, as his condition was rather severe. The other three stuffed themselves into the smaller couch.

“Well, I was awaken rather rudely. It’s not even dawn. So no, I’m not making any of you tea. And no, you can’t rummage through my house for a snack or tea. This is not a charity.” The old woman said all that while sipping on a cup of tea. She kept the pot close to her. “And my name is Sena Cideil. Address me as Auntie, and only Auntie.”

“What the hell is a King,” Horatio asked, hands clasped, eyes driving into Sena’s.

“My, there was a King?” Sena remarked calmly, though she did stop sipping her tea. “As one should know, grey-lurkers are typically solitary beasts. Why, hunting one or two per season would not be too hard a job during the day with proper preparation. In fact, grey-lurkers often kill each other due to territory and competition. That is why we never worried too much despite the recent incidents. A King is different.”

“They can control the other grey-lurkers,” Anise interrupted. “Impervious to fire. Possessing mystical abilities and magic. Anything else?”

Sena and the others looked at Anise. The old woman nodded, “No, you said what needed to be said. Though you forgot one thing, they cannot be calmed by lullabies at all.”

“Lullabies?”

“Yes, the wolf head attached to the grey-lurker is rather fond of good music, don’t you know?”

“What I want to know is how do we find the King,” Horatio said bitterly.

“I don’t know,” Sena leaned back. “Only fools venture into a lion’s den.”

Horatio slammed his fist onto the table. “Then how do we attract a King?”

Sena raised her eyebrow. “There are ways. Learned mistakes, I suppose one could call them. And that’s why I won’t tell you any of them.”

“Then can you tell us about the missing governor and his daughter?” Anise asked, holding Horatio back. The young man shook her hand off his shoulder.

“That’s a mystery, not my responsibility — yours. Maybe the guard eloped with the daughter after killing old William. Maybe old William simply gave up. Who knows. One day he just was gone, and I got stuck with caring for what may as well be a pack of children. Did you see Fenik back there? He’s near some 40 years old and I smelled his soiled self before I even got to him.”

The three attempted to get some more information from the old woman. She always responded with nonchalance, and sometimes blatant jokes. The three soon gave up. Sena told them, she will care for Belford. The three left for the governor’s mansion once more.

“I don’t trust her at all,” Garth remarked as they entered the governor’s mansion.

“Why not?” Anise responded. “I don’t trust the servants. They’re not even here to receive us. In fact, I don’t think they are here at all.”

“They could be at the conference. Afterall, so many died tonight. A major part of Wolfsheimburg is in pieces. Now, I don’t trust that Sena woman at all. She calmed the grey-lurker like it’s nothing. I know for a fact that each grey-lurker responds only to a specific lullaby unique to itself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. A friend I used to know worked for a circus, in charge of the odd shows. Some rival managed to switch out the grey-lurker and so the beast was not calmed at all. A rampage ensued.”

“Is that how you lost your arm?”

“No,” Garth touched his stump. “That’s a different story. But the point is, the old woman would not have been able to calm the grey-lurker unless she already knew the right lullaby by heart. Else, grey-lurkers wouldn’t be such a threat — or luxurious attraction.”

“Horatio, what do you think?” Anise turned to the young man.

Horatio looked at Anise. “I think it was a mistake to actually follow through with your ideas. If Sofie is hurt in anyway — if Belford is crippled in any way — I will kill you. Princess.”

He bumped past Anise and headed up the stairs. Garth whistled and smiled wry.

“Don’t blame yourself too much, Miss Tan’ae. Though, Horatio has the right to be angry. We will think of something.”

“Do you think it would have turned out differently if Tanya was there?” Anise asked.

“I doubt that. You may not think this, but Tanya is a dangerous enigma. She would have simply been another irrational variable in the equation. Goodnight, Miss Tan’ae. It is rather late, though perhaps early. Simply put, I’m tired — and I believe you are drained as well,” Garth patted Anise’s head and went off for his own room.

“I thought you gave me enough power to fight the King,” Anise growled to Usha as she headed up the stairs.

“I gave you as much as you wanted. Once you were able to move, you didn’t want it anymore. Besides, I never said you would be able to kill the King in the first place — only that you would be able to move. You’re too weak, girl.”

“You — I,” Anise floundered for any word to say but found none of worth. “Then if I had taken in everything — if I had that ability — would I have killed that beast?”

“Of course, that false god is nothing before even a fallen goddess like myself,” Usha confirmed.

“I see,” Anise said to herself. She massaged her aching heart.

Back in Sena’s cottage, another meeting took place. Sitting across from Sena was a young man and two girls. They were Bolverk and the Twin Performers.

“Can you not sit so close to us?” Agnis barked.

“There’s really no other place to sit,” Bolverk responded.

“There is the floor. Where a mutt of the royals belong — though preferably disemboweled,” Hama answered.

“That’s animal cruelty, you know.”

“My, what an entertaining bunch,” Sena said without a smile.

“Of course, we are the Twin Performers,” the twins flashed a bright smile — before immediately glaring at Bolverk.

“Anyhow, what is that you want the Inondation to do, Auntie?”

“You’re a fool, aren’t you,” Sena laughed at Bolverk.

“No, I’m a scholar.”

“No one actually calls me Auntie, you know.”

“Oh.”

“But yes, the job. I want you to kill the missing governor.”