There are three pantheons or religion groups in Althá, the dwarven god Enthrul and the Ancestor Spirits, the Althaen Pantheon worshiped by most, and the Elven Pantheon. Dragons are said to have their own gods, and demons are known to serve some sort of higher power, but the truth of those individuals' divine status has been lost.

Bryan

The strange look-a-like Adrian goes and sits down after saying something to the werewolf woman that I had surrendered to earlier by the request of my patron. I don’t understand how this is supposed to be the best outcome but without the power he gives me I won’t survive in this world. Rather than immediately letting us go from the bonds she put on us as Adrian said she watches him for a moment like I’ve seen Ria do.

I don’t understand why he is so different than the Adrian I know. He mentioned something about time travel complications but how could he act as he is? Also, how could he have managed to live with a pack of werewolves for months? Aren’t they supposed to be monsters that kill and eat people?

The werewolf woman walks over to me and begins to untie me as she says, “if you betray my mate’s trust I will kill you.”

I don’t respond other than to rub the soreness out of my wrists. A moment later the werewolf woman asks, “how do you know my mate?”

“Why do you keep calling him that? You couldn’t possibly be married to him?” Abagail interjects and the woman whose name I still don’t know get visibly upset.

“By the traditions set by the Black Wolf he has taken me as his mate. Now be quiet while I talk with the boy you want to take you” the werewolf woman says, slightly growling at the end.

Rather than defend Abagail, I try to defuse the situation by changing the topic back to the question I was just asked. “We’ve been friends for years and ended up being called to Althá by the same ritual. I understand that you are a pair but why do you keep referring to him as your mate?”

“Because he didn’t remember his name when he arrived and the one he gave my mother is not his.”

What? That, doesn’t make any sense. He forgot his own name? But he recognized it when I said it to him.

“His name is Adrian.”

“No house or clan? There’s no way he could be as skilled in magic as he is without subconscious knowledge that would only have been from a powerful family. What is his family name?”

Powerful family? Adrian's family doesn’t fit that description. His grandparents seem to have a lot of money but nothing like the power that she could possibly mean.

“Ravnos. . .”

“Are you sure?” she asks cutting me off.

“Yes, why?”

The strangest smile of affection, pride and lust fills the werewolf's face as she looks over to Adrian. Did I just make a terrible mistake?

“The House of Ravnos is a legend in this world. They cast out all of our ancestors from the world of Terra. They are masters of a magic that no others have ever managed to even grasp the fundamentals of. Able to bend the world to their whims through their inexhaustible supply of power that other mages cannot even sense.”

I just sit with a blank look on my face for a moment. Adrian’s version of magic is that powerful?

She doesn’t say anything else as she literally watches Adrian do whatever it is that he is doing.

Adrian

I am unsure of how long I was meditating, and there is still so much I haven’t gone over and ordered in my mind but enough has been done for now. It would take too long to go through all the years of memories in one sitting even if there wasn’t the problem of the Althaen continuing their attack.

At least I did enough to be stable, I think. I went through what I think is most of the other me's time here in this world and while I still don’t understand why he acted as he did, I do know what’s going on. I know where in the woods the remaining Althaen should be, where the one who is in charge of their attack should be, but not the why and how they knew right where to find the village.

I open my eyes and look around to see Bryan and, I think her name is Abagail, sitting at the table still while K is standing guard.

“Thank you Kythia” I say with a smile.

“Did you remember your name?” she asks, excited.

“Yes, are you upset that my name isn’t what I had been going by?” I answer with some hesitation.

“We all knew it wasn’t.”

“How?”

“Your smell when you said it. It isn’t right. So, what is it?”

“Adrian Ravnos” I answer at the same time as Bryan interrupts us with a false cough.

K smiles as she commits it to memory and I turn to my friend and the girl who likes him.

I still don’t know much of anything from before being dragged to this world but I know he is my friend by how we acted after arrival. Him and Tomas?

A flash of a different memory hits my thoughts, one of me burying Tomas while K and the two elves watch. Taking turns with Bryan as we dig and fill a hole next to a building that could not be in this world.

I shake my head, making a note to figure out why I’ve two different memories about his death later. There is a threat I need to deal with and my mind is well enough together to deal with it now.

“Anyways, has Analais gotten back from his scouting?” I ask changing to a language both K and Bryan know.

K of course frowns at using this tongue instead of the native instinctual tongue of the wolf, but answers in it. “No, but he should be back anytime.”

I nod, and after a moment of considering the power these Althaen have from the memories from the other me, begin to think of my own powers. Mana based magic is going to be of little use due to the antimagic crystals they brought but the strange magic that is apparently from my family is relatively unaffected. And there is also how I am far more powerful physically than any of their remaining soldiers. . .

“Kythia, I think it is time for a hunt.”

Lysan

I do not know why but when the Althaen reached the village of Pack Bloodclaw, sister muttered something I did not catch before pulling me in the opposite direction, to flee from the battle. I could see how on her face she wanted to fight but deemed it necessary that we flee much as how we were hitherto told to.

It didn’t make much of a difference, as while none of the werewolves fled, the soldiers of the Holy Empire still had the place surrounded and we were captured. That part I do not remember how but from the ache on the back of my head I can assume we were knocked unconscious.

I look around as my eyes water to find I am in a cage that has just enough room to allow me to sit but not stand. Outside of the cage I can see a few others, a pair of children that seem to be from the Bloodclaw, another cage with my sister, and a third with a human girl sitting inside. I can’t tell the colors of anything in the dim light but I can hear a conversation.

“. . . at we agreed to. Capture a few not sack my pack's village!”

“We never discussed how many, besides most will be spent empowering you. You should also be proud, your unwanted members decimated the forces sent against them. Only a few sptopped their total destruction, one of which was not expected.

Who is the black draconian?”

“Draconian? There was no draconian in the village, just a weak human boy.”

The second voice laughs at the apparent stupidity of the first voice before saying, “I suppose it is my fault for relying on the information you gave on your pack. Still I suppose your reward is in order.”

Seconds later two men who must have been the two voices enter my sight as I try to look like I am still unconscious. The first is a human in bloodstained robes for the clergy of the Holy One. The other is a very tall burly man with corse black hair.

The large man goes and sits between the cages containing children. The young boys cry out in their tongue at the man but he just sits. They must know him, but why then does he not help them?

The older man in clergy robes, that keep me from seeing anything but his hands, begins to draw something on the floor. I don’t recognize the ritual he is setting up but I do manage to recognize some of the symbols in the circle, Infernal runes.

This kind of magic is banned in every kingdom of this world but I always knew the rulers of the human nations don’t follow their own laws. I don’t watch and close my eyes while trying to ignore the dark magic being performed by a man who is supposed to serve the gods rather than the fiends he must have consorted with to learn what he is now doing.

The whispers of words just out of hearing tempt me to listen closer, to hear something I am not supposed to know. To touch the first stage of some Infernal power. The screams of pain before me somehow seem quieter than the whispers but I ignore them. I will not turn to fiends for power.

Then as soon as it had begun, it ends. The room sits in silence for a moment before the voice of the false priest enters my ears, “you disappoint me. Not even watching as I show you what will eventually be done to you.”

He knew I was awake? I open my eyes and see. The children are now dead, desiccated in their cages, the false priest smiling, and the large burly man now at least a head taller but mutated to now show traits a human never could have. Patches of fur and baldness covering the body, an elongated snout and fangs that no longer fit in his mouth. Almost like an oversized diseased werewolf in hybrid form.

I glance at the creature that is twice my height and see madness and pain in his eyes.

“Do you like what I’ve done to the alpha of the werewolves you were with? He wanted to be the strongest, largest and most powerful in his pack. Would you believe that he originally was slightly below average when I met him?

A young boy, half a head shorter than all the other males save the runt, but he had ambition. A thirst to be the male that rules the pack and so he was clever. He sought to become strong and followed a rumor one day after trading meat he hunted for knowledge in the village nearby after learning he had no talent for magic” the priest begins to monologue, pausing at this point for a question no one asks.

“Yes, indeed. This is where he met me, and I let him in on a secret to great power. And do you know what he did once he knew?

He brought the stupidest of his age group into the woods and gave him to me to use to empower him, and did so again during the test to become a hunter. With the collective might of several of his rivals, he was then what he wanted to be but he never consolidated that power.

Never purged himself of the remnants of those whose power he stole. I even warned him the first time that this could happen. The corruption of the magic leaving behind all the worst parts of the spirits of the sacrificed.

Now what to do with you my ball of madness? Perhaps have you finish off the rest of your pack?”

There seems to be a spark of something in the creature's eyes before the priest laughs.

“So you are conscious in there, just no longer in control. Good then go and do just that, but bring me your mate and children. I want to see what I can make of them with what is left.”

The priest then turns to me and smiles, “elven royalty. A cross between two elements and you have a perfect balance between them. Oh, there is so much I could do with you, but alas another has been given the right to your bloodline.”

I spit at the priest who dodges it with speed and grace an old human should not have.