It was the day before Jul, the darkest time of the year. It felt kind of fitting, that the sun didn’t rise anymore. It was just dark all the time. Mao and Joseph made up then plotted. Many ideas were whispered and discussed in utmost secret until at last, they had it. It would be challenging, a little scary, but a strong attempt at bringing some cheer back to Redlog.

The gloom was warranted of course, but the boys feared that if it went on for much longer, people might just lay down in the streets and cry, and that wouldn’t help the missing children. Something had to be done. Their plan went as follows:

Mao and Joseph went down to the farmlands after asking Josei to come with them. Mao’s kindly mother went to tell Joseph’s family where he was- apparently they didn’t care much that he wandered. They paid a great deal of money to keep the watch well supplied and trained, and thus trusted them to keep their son safe even during the winter dark. Josei disapproved but kept from tearing them a new one. Barely.

Instead, she bundled the boys up in winter clothes until they could have rolled down the grand stairs without so much as a bruise- Joseph objected at first, but Josei would not accept any excuse when there was snow outside and it was dark enough to mistake day for night. Then at last she brought them down to the farms.

Things were gloomy down there, as expected, but children were outside despite the cold and general mood of Redlog. One could only sulk indoors for so long if you were a child full of growing energy. Mao and Joseph took a deep breath, gave each other a knowing look, then started the most chaotic snowball war that Redlog had ever seen.

If there was enough snow to reach your knees then you took advantage of that! It had been a stroke of luck really, as not every winter saw snowfall that heavy, but now it lay thick on every surface, a wet carpet of icy cold.

Mao felt it was good to scream and run, to have fun without restraint again. It made him forget about some of his worries. He and Joseph planned to spread that feeling like wildfire.

Even the saddest of children couldn’t have resisted the call of snowy warfare for long, especially not after seeing the inviting waves and flying balls of snow. It made the watchful adults exhale a collective sigh of relief when they saw their young laugh and play, no longer weighed down by the sorrow that had held them all since early summer. Some hadn’t even realized how tense they’d been, but grief affected all, even in subtle ways.

Mao taught Joseph the merciless nature of a good snowball fight. The noble had played before of course, but never with quite so many children at once. For all the nobles had their own families, their way of life was a tad too strict for Mao’s liking. Noble children needed to let loose and have fun too.

That thought sparked a devious idea. An escalation of their master plan that had originally only spanned across the farmlands. It was a daring gamle for sure, but Mao was feeling more and more confident in himself. Yes, let’s try it.

They would bring their snowball fight to Peak Street, home of the most uptight of nobles and their equally snotty younglings. The nobles may be less bothered about the missing commoner children, but grief was an infectious mood that even a blue blood would feel the thorns off in time. Especially children.

Mao rallied his forces and together they plotted a running advance up the grand stairs. The adults were too slow to stop it. They only realized the whispering and giggling was a precursor to shenanigans when it was already too late. Plans had been made and the scheme was in full swing!

Any that tried to stop the wave of children ascending the stairs were pelted with snowballs. The children took no prisoners, they gave no mercy. Fight! Fight damn you! Or suffer the price of snow to the face! Mao laughed for what felt like the first time in weeks. Up they went!

The noble children hanging out near or on Peak Street never knew what hit them. It was an invasion! An unacceptable breach of territory! Guards! GUARDS! Mao got a watchman in the face with a wet snowball. It exploded with the most satisfying of splats, nearly tripping the watchman over. He felt a little bad about it… but then the children swarmed Peak Street!

The noble children objected at first, screamed because this was not how you behaved! Then when they realized that snitching wouldn’t save them, they started fighting back. Mao and Joseph raised a defensive wall of snow and took turns taking cover to build more projectiles.

Some of Joseph’s blue blood friends recognized him and screamed of his betrayal. Mao laughed until his stomach hurt. The adults watched in dismay, too battered or too cowardly to re-enter the war zone on Peak Street. Redlog belonged to the children! En garde!

Mao was shivering by the time it ended, but smiling from ear to ear. He’d needed this. Joseph too was riding the rush of victory over prim and proper boring rules. His parents would chew his ears off later when they found out- if they found out… The noble children found out the hard way that snitches got stitches- or snow shoved down beneath the collar.

Josei clicked her tongue and sighed as she bundled a trio of boys up with dry and warm quilts in front of the hearth back home. Tobby had joined the war as a great ally of superior height. 5 years of age difference could change the tide of battle!

Katja was kneading dough in the kitchen nook, preparing a batch of saffron buns to warm the ferocious little warrior’s bellies with. Josei treated them to sweet tea and stories of her own childhood conquests. The boys were agog to hear that Josei had once convinced her friends and their friends to haul buckets of snow up to the top of the stairs leading down to the farmlands, just outside their shop. Together they had formed the grandest and steepest slope of snow in all of Redlog.

A slope the children had gone down shrieking with laughter once everyone had been armed with something to ride on. A plank was perfectly fine if you just wanted to go fast, but the carpenters also made and sold cheap sleighs for children to play with during the rare snowy weathers. It had been a blast.

Josei realized too late that she’d given the boys fresh ideas of mayhem. Oh well, such was the nature of youth. Mao’s eyes were flickering as he pondered how to pull that kind of stunt off himself. His plotting came to a halt as Katja emerged from the kitchen nook with a fresh batch of saffron buns.

They drank their tea, ate, and giggled until they were too tired to stay awake. Mao vaguely remembered waving goodbye to his friends as Katja herded them out the door, too sleepy to object. Katja and Tobby walked Joseph home and that was that for the day. Or so Mao had thought.

He woke up to someone tapping on the window at the store-front of his house later that night. Josei was sleeping and whoever was tapping was doing so urgently. Mao looked at his mother’s bed, hesitated, then went to check what was disturbing his sleep. Had Tulip managed to get himself locked outside again? The rooster wasn’t a big fan of the snow, but the lure of free food from the Lady Hen priesthood got him to stay outside for a few hours each day.

Mao opened the window shutters and peeked outside. It was Joseph. The noble had dressed up in a fresh set of warm winter clothes but was still red cheeked and a little snotty from the cold.

“Mao! Is your mom asleep? Get dressed!” Joseph whispered. He had mischief glittering in his eyes, a sign of some grand scheme no doubt, but…

Mao looked at the sky past Joseph. It was dark, obviously, but also quiet. It was in the middle of the night! He gave Joseph a disbelieving stare.

“What do you mean get dressed? It’s night time! We’re not supposed to be out at night like, ever. Especially not alone.” Mao did a double take and noted that yes, Joseph was indeed alone. His stare of disbelief made the noble boy squirm.

“I know, I know… but it’s a secret! There’s gonna be a super secret lesson at the school soon. Everyone will be there!”

Mao just stared. “What?” At night? They’d never had a secret lesson at night before, at least none that Mao had known off… Then again, he hadn’t really visited the school ever since… his fight with Joseph. Mao winced at the memory.

Joseph tried to explain, unaware of what Mao thought about how dangerous this sounded, oblivious to what should have been common sense. For once Mao realized that Joseph didn’t have the same… awareness? He didn’t seem to realize that he could actually get hurt out here. That the night wasn’t safe for a child to wander the city alone, especially in secret.

“Mister Bok said that we had to be extra secret because he’s going to teach us magic! Don’t you want to learn magic, Mao?”

Magic? That did make Mao pause, but he had a growing feeling of unease gnawing at him. He watched Joseph’s face fall as he tried to explain it to him.

“Children have gone missing, Joseph. We shouldn’t be out alone.” The noble frowned, excitement finally growing cold enough that he started to see what had Mao so unease.

Still, the promise of magic made the noble push on. There was a fire in the his eyes that reminded Mao of the magical stone, the one that smelled like rot. He could vaguely detect the foul smell even now. Hidden away in one of Joseph’s pockets perhaps? His friend didn’t give up.

“We’re not alone, our teacher will be there. Besides, the only missing ones have been-” Joseph bit his tongue, nearly using an argument he’d heard his parents use so many times before. ‘Commoners’ was what he’d nearly said. Mao understood despite the noble trying to cover it up.

Joseph didn’t think the danger would affect him. None of the noble children had disappeared, so why would it come for him? Joseph felt safe, unaffected, unworried to the point where even wandering Redlog alone at night hadn’t seemed too dangerous. Mao had a very different opinion. Joseph did his best to convince him it was fine.

“Mister Bok said we’d be safe too. With magic we can protect ourselves. Maybe even help find the missing children! Think about it, Mao.”

Mao did and it made his stomach hurt. He didn’t like this. As much as he wanted to help, he was doubtful about whether learning a magic trick or two would actually make a difference. Joseph’s magical fire rock was cool and all, but how would you use that? It couldn’t track the missing children.

Then Joseph showed him a new magical stone. It was different from the last one, stronger somehow. It had that same stench of rot like the last, but as the noble held it out, Mao could feel something more metallic hiding beneath the mold.

Seeing how it made his friend pause, Joseph whispered something quietly to it, too silently for Mao to hear- then threw his empty hand. A small spark of fire flew from it. It landed on the ground and melted a hole in the snow. Mao stared, wide eyed.

“See? Nothing can get us if we know magic. You’ll see! Mister Bok showed us this most amazing spell the other night- he turned invisible!”

Excitement crept back into Joseph’s voice. He was practically vibrating on the spot, so starry eyed over the promise of magic that he completely missed the way Mao frowned. Did he think that throwing a few sparks would keep him safe? Fire didn’t stop a knife, or someone sneaking up from behind to grab you. It might spook feral dogs if they went for you, but it was a gamble best left alone.

“Joseph…”

Finally the noble boy noticed that his excitement wasn’t shared. He lowered his hands, magical stone still clutched in one mitten, and his wide smile faded.

“What? If you’re not coming then I’m going alone. Only noble children got invited to this but I thought…” Joseph bit his lip again and Mao started feeling bad, despite his growing anxiety. His friend’s visible disappointment only made it worse.

“We’re friends, right?” Joseph asked, worry glistening in his eyes. Mao nodded at once, caught off guard by the hesitant question.

He’d never questioned their friendship, but maybe Joseph wasn’t as sure whether he was liked by others or not. It made Mao’s heart hurt. “Of course we are.”

Joseph relaxed, relieved. “Yea, so I wanted to bring you along. Mister Bok said that only people with blue blood can use magic, but… but you have a magical mask- even if you don’t think it’s special. I want you to come along, just this once. Please?”

Joseph looked distraught at the idea of Mao saying no. How could he say no now? Mao felt as if he was stuck between two decisions, both equally bad. It was clear that he wasn’t going to be able to talk Joseph out of this, and leaving him to go alone would definitely hurt his feelings.

Despite his every common sense telling him that this was a bad idea, that something was fishy about this secret night lesson, Mao said yes. “Fine, wait here. I need to find clothes that aren’t still wet from the snow.”

“You don’t have an extra pair?”

Mao stared. “No- maybe, I dunno. Do you?”

Joseph nodded. “Several, depending on the occasion- but hurry up! It’s almost time!”

Vaguely distracted by the wonder of a noble’s vast wardrobe, Mao ran back into the house. He rooted through the dresser in the room he and Josei shared as silently as he could, then put on the warmest shirt he could find. His winter jacket was still drying by the hearth after the snowball war, so he grabbed a lighter jacket he used during the spring instead. It would have to do.

Joseph was bouncing from foot to foot by the time he came back. Mao closed and carefully locked the door with his spare key, hoping that the sound wouldn’t wake Josei up. Then he followed his foolish noble friend into the night.

-

As expected, they weren’t the only ones invited to Mister Bok’s secret magic lesson. Several other children were slowly making their way through the dark streets of Redlog. It was past midnight and even the watchmen were looking tired where they stood at their guard posts.

Joseph told Mao to hold his hand and walk as silently as he could. The noble son had another magical rock, this one for avoiding being seen by the guards. It made the world light up just a bit, just enough to let them see without bringing a light. They crept from shadow to shadow until they reached the dark school building.

The air felt electric, dangerous. It was as if something was watching them. There was no moon out tonight. Slowly but surely the children gathered by the school. Mister Bok was hiding by the door, letting them in one pair at a time. Few had dared to go alone. Maybe Joseph was just stupidly brave.

Mister Bok gave Mao a confused look when he spotted him approaching together with Joseph, but nodded after one tense moment of hesitation. They went inside and waited. Jåhn Bok had lit a few candles, but none of the bright lanterns. The classroom looked eerie at night. The tall bookshelves loomed like giant trees. Mao felt as if every shadow held a lurking beast, invisible teeth bared as it prepared to pounce. Joseph’s fire spitting rock didn’t feel very reassuring as a means of protection.

Once the last pair arrived, Jåhn Bok closed the door and looked to the gathered children. “Right, is this everyone? Good good… Welcome class, tonight is a very special night.”

The teacher smiled and Mao felt his skin prickle. He didn’t like this one bit… but the promise of magic made the other children whisper in excitement. Some wore somber expressions, jaws clenched in steely determination. Maybe they hoped to use their magic to find the missing children, just like Joseph. Mao was starting to wonder if they were right. Wouldn’t that alone make this foolish errand worth it? Maybe he should just swallow his fear and try to enjoy this secret. Everyone else looked so excited, not a shred of fear left in the way they stood. How could one promise ease their worries so? It made Mao feel like an outsider, someone who either knew something they didn’t… or who had yet to understand.

Jåhn Bok didn’t keep them waiting for long. The teacher raised an empty hand, hushed the class, then snapped his fingers. A pale flame came to life above his palm. The students gasped and Mao recoiled. It smelled like the rocks, wet mold and burnt blood. The flame danced like a flimsy moth, flickering like bone meal mixed with shards of glass.

It felt wrong. That it held the other children with such wonder, while Mao felt as if he’d swallowed a handful of worms… it disturbed him, but to speak would be to reveal that he didn’t truly belong. To be cast out would mean leaving Joseph alone. Would he learn to create this sickly fire too? Would he hold it like Mister Bok, almost hunched over it, eyes hungry and too bright, as if the pale flame held a twisted promise.

“See? Magic.” Jåhn breathed the word like it was something precious. The noble children held on to his every word.

“I will teach you how to cast spells because you are special. Even you, Mao.” Jåhn nodded and Mao froze but the teacher went on, eyes only for the magical fire. “I learned how to cast spells just like you will tonight. My teacher took me out into the woods and showed me how it was done. Everyone got their casting stones?”

Mao didn’t have one but Joseph let him borrow one of his. He didn’t like what the teacher said about them needing to go into the woods. Joseph had the expression of someone about to do something a little forbidden. Like sneak a cookie from the kitchen nook without permission. Or steal an apple from the carefully pruned trees in a nobleman’s garden. Something secret, not entirely allowed, but tantalizing because it was against the rules. To follow an adult into the woods in the middle of the night, in secret, all to learn how to cast magic. It was the kind of thing you dreamed about happening to you. For someone to tell you that you were special.

Jåhn Bok smiled. “Good. This will be the last time you’ll need them. There is a secret well in the Maple Woods. We’re going to go there and drop the stones in. Once that is done we’ll chant the spell together and then…”

Jåhn spread his hands and sparks of colorful fire glittered between them. The noble children were transfixed, gaping in disbelief, yearning for what he promised them. Mao felt his stomach tie itself into knots of fear. Even the colorful fire smelled like mold. It had the scent of something dead. Something that had been dead and left to rot for a long time. It squashed any wonder Mao might have otherwise felt at the trick.

The teacher went on. “It is very important that no one sees us on our way out. The Hunters’ Guild kills anyone that tries to learn how to cast magic. They must not know what we’re doing.”

Mao frowned. He wanted to ask why, but the words wouldn’t come out. There was something sharp about Jåhn’s smile. Not like the fangs of a beast, not at all. It was entirely human, almost a little too much so. It was high on emotion, driven by a passion bordering on obsession. Instinct had fled that smile and left a man that pursued only ambition, abandoning reason and sense. Mao thought that even if Jåhn Bok’s mind tried to tell him that something was wrong, the teacher would have ignored it.

He had the other children spellbound with that same ambition, a promise that their senses must surely be telling them was wrong, yet they themselves had decided that they wanted it anyway. Surely Mao wasn’t the only one who could smell the rot? Who could sense it hiding in Jåhn Bok’s breath, an infection slowly spreading.

He should have said something, anything, talked sense into the other children- but Mao feared they’d throw him out if he objected. Even Joseph’s face looked like that of a stranger when the foul fire illuminated it. Mao had no choice but to see this through. Maybe it was like they’d said at the start. Maybe this magic was only for the blue blood of nobles, and that’s why it felt so wrong to Mao. Maybe they were all just trying to be nice by including him, hoping, maybe… that he would understand.

Jåhn made everyone swear they would keep this a secret, then gave them a new magical stone each. It reeked like the others and turned the world fuzzy. It hurt Mao’s eyes, but no one else complained, so he kept that to himself. Jåhn led them out of the school building and into the cold night.

They walked down the main street towards the market plaza, huddling in a tight bunch tense with nerves and anticipation. The watchmen didn’t see them, not even when they walked by right next to them. Mao felt tempted to reach out and tell them, show them what was happening. He hesitated and the other children pushed him along, forcing him to either break free of their huddle, or continue with them down the stairs. Mao felt sick as he followed the group.

A loud wind howled as they left through the main gate to the south, then entered the woods. The snow crunched beneath their boots, and the trees loomed like tall figures with crooked limbs. Mao hugged Joseph’s arm as they left the open grass field behind.

Jåhn led them onwards in a tight line, a winding trail of children following a lone adult along an overgrown path His eyes were wide enough that Mao caught a glimpse of the whites of them whenever he turned his head. He still held the pale flame in his palm, using it to light the way. It seemed to dance, coiling around itself as if excited. As Mao watched it, the flame slowly grew. The stench of mold was heavier now, heady and oppresive. It wanted to crawl through your nose, ooze down your windpipe and pool in your lungs.

Then Mao heard them.

Faint at first. Whispering voices. They drew closer the further they went into the woods. Jåhn Bok took them off the path and into the dense underbrush. The thick snow cushioned their steps and creaked ever so faintly with every shift of weight. The voices chittered behind them. Mao turned, tried to stop and point but he had little space to move in between the other children and the frozen vegetation. Jåhn Bok’s quivering voice spoke before Mao could tell anyone he wanted to go back.

“Just a little further now. Everyone alright?” The teacher didn’t even look back. He just continued with that same tone tinged by nervous energy. “Good… Good. You’ll love casting magic. It is the best feeling in the world.”

The teacher urged the children on. Mao saw something move at the edge of his vision. Hungry eyes and shining teeth. They smiled in the same way that Jåhn did, too eager, listening only to themselves.

Someone screamed. One of the girls had spotted the dark figure. She fell back, eyes wide and teary. The thing stepped out of the shadows. It smiled.

It looked like a person at first, then it entered the light of the pale flame and you noticed the things that were wrong. Limbs that were too long. Eyes too wide, too pale. It had pointed ears. There were too many teeth in its grinning mouth, as if had plucked its fallen baby teeth and forced them back into its maw, grin growing wider with every tooth that tried to fall. It drooled. Someone else screamed as it spoke.

“Good job, Jåhn. Soon, soon we will feast. So many…”

More elves broke away from the distant dark and joined the first. They circled the group of terrified children, the elated Jåhn Bok. He was smiling too widely, expectant. Mao heard one of the elves betray why.

“You will live forever for a gift like this. As one of us. You have tasted the flesh of eternity. Magic from blood. We are the grandest ones of all.”

The teacher nodded, eyes unfocused, almost dreamily. He didn’t seem to realize what the elf had said- then he blinked, lost some of the glee.

“The flesh? No… you wouldn’t tell me what it was. It was…”

He looked worried for a moment, but an elf slunk forwards before he could get much further. It drew its hands up to his face, caressed it, long fingers that ended in crooked nails trailing gentle lines along his cheeks.

Not claws. This thing had been human. Once. It was something more now. It lacked something vital, something important. It had gained something else in exchange and it delighted it. It purred, trying to share its joy with the human teacher, lilting words cooing like a lover’s sweet nothings.

“A small price for immortality. A small price for magic. You will be one of us, Jåhn. We will sing of your great gifts to us. The blue blood is the sweetest, the most potent.”

The elf holding Jåhn’s face smiled as he reached up to touch its hands, almost reverently. Another creature swept in behind him, purring its agreement for all to hear.

“To dine on man is to consume one’s lessers, and grow flawless from it. You will be beautiful, like us.”

The first one nodded, eyes wide and bright. It piled more reasons up on the other ones, speaking hurriedly to justify its choices, to convince all that listened to accept them. To tell itself that it was right, and thus without shame, no matter the acts it took. Mao could see it in the way they grinned. They didn’t feel bad about this, not even a little bit.

They did not recoil when they saw the children cry out, how they shrunk into a tighter knot as the elves surrounded them, waving their hands in beckoning motions. It brought the elves no grief- no, no discomfort at all, to see what they caused. Means to an end. They were delighted in what it promised them. Meat would bring them all that they craved, and they cared not if it cried while they ate them.

They would eat them.

It dawned on Mao like an unwelcome thought. A truth he’d tried to ignore until it kneeled right in front of him, wide eyes taking in all without actually seeing him. Without caring. The pair comforting Jåhn Bok continued their justifications, preaching words that made Mao’s bones ache with fear. Yet if they had gone quiet, left them alone with only the stares and the reaching hands… that would have somehow been worse, so Mao strained his ears to flee the silence.

“Time does not touch a mind free from grief, free of the burden by imposed guilt. What you reject shall no longer be yours, only what you desire. Magic shall sustain your body, brittle sprout that it still is. You will turn like use, blossom into something greater. What man was meant to be, but never achieved.”

The one kneeling in front of Mao suddenly frowned. The shift in expression was so extreme that it made the boy recoil. It saw him, focused on him, rather than what it intended to gain from him. It raised a question that made the others slow. They’d been circling the children at a fleeting pace, like a noose slowly growing taut, savoring the moment. Now they stopped, glassy eyes growing wider as they listened.

“Oh?” The elf in front of Mao tasted that single syllable for a moment, then went on. “You brought a stray little kit along with the rest.” It had a voice like lamp oil spilled on gravel. A slick slime that rasped and crackled.

Jåhn Bok broke out of his daze to look at the children. He blinked, frowned, seemed surprised, despite the fact that he had been the one to bring them here. To be eaten by elves. Hoping to become one himself.

“Is- is that an issue- what- I didn’t know he would come along…” The elves hurried to reassure the stuttering teacher. The elf in front of Mao regarded him, tilted its head, then smiled once more. Perfect white teeth in even rows, not a single imperfection and thus, all the more wrong.

“No, no, it is alright. We like animals. A fox is tender. Its tail is special. We will feast on its spine. Unlock secrets not yet ours. You have done well, Jåhn Bok.”

One of the elves suddenly lunged. It grabbed a girl without the others so much as blinking. The girl was a young one that couldn’t have been much older than Mao himself. She didn’t make a sound, couldn’t comprehend what had plucked her from the rest, just hung from its grip as the world caught up with the impossibly fast motion. The others screamed once their minds processed what was happening. Joseph cried. They would all go missing. The elves would eat them all.

Another elf slunk forwards, grasping fingers seeking trembling flesh. The children screamed and jerked away, but the dark shapes were everywhere, grinning, laughing, making beckoning motions despite surely knowing that it would earn them no trust. There was no kindness here, only hunger.

The elves were playing with them, knowing full well that they themselves were untouchable. Unkillable. Safe here in the dark.

Mao wondered why the people in the city couldn’t hear them. Surely the wails and cries would carry… The woods echoed so loudly in the winter, without the maple leaves to soften every sound. Yet things sounded muted here. Subdued. A boy was howling his lungs out, trying to scream the danger away. It was like a whisper. The elves closed in.

The air was wrong. Cloyingly thick and too warm. It smelled like disease. Like festering wounds. Mao wanted to throw up, to scream, to run away. He stood frozen instead, terrified beyond belief. One of the elves slowly lifted Joseph up by the neck. Mao hadn’t seen it approach. They were like eels, flowing like roiling innards.

Mao felt at his belt, hoping to find a knife, a botanist’s shovel, anything to use against these evil things. He hadn’t felt this scared since the time the rotvälta swallowed Tobby. His hands closed around the fox mask. He stared at it, feeling betrayed that it couldn’t help him. It wasn’t a knife. Useless as always! It was always…

The elves were crowding in closer now. It was like seeing a murder of crows swarm around fresh carrion, excpet that these children were all alive. The mask grinned in Mao’s hands, painted lips on a long snout. He slowly put it on. A nearby elf saw him do it, hesitated, reached for him to-

Mao turned his snout towards the sky and screamed.

Have you ever heard a fox scream? It was a quick, throaty, shriek of sound. A yell that pierced the silence. It cut the air like a knife. It made the elves recoil, hissing, bright eyes scorching. Mao screamed and they drew in like closing teeth, threatening to consume them all whole unless-

“wwwuuuooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-”

It came from a single throat at first, then two, then a dozen. A distant sound that grew and swelled. Howls filled the air and the elves stopped. Jåhn Bok stood frozen in place, face locked into a mix of confusion and glee. The children kept screaming and this time the sound carried through the woods. More howls filled the air. They drew closer.

A shriek like that of a wounded animal rose from the elves. Something huge cut one off, bowled it over like a bear hitting a flimsy fence post. Another shape broke through the trees and the sky filled with vicious fury.

Some of the elves, the smarter ones perhaps, tried to take off with the children they’d caught hold of, but the Hunters were on them before they could break off from the rest. They came like silver death through the dark, howling fury and gnashing teeth. Salvation.

Mao kept screaming, howling his fear into the night. He shivered as it answered him, sending these wolves to save them from a terrible death.

Something wet hit Mao’s face. It smelled like metal. A warm, furred arm scooped him up into a gentle hold. Callused paw pads wiped the stain off his face before he could reach up and see what it was. The paw stayed there then, shielding his eyes from the violence quickly filling the forest. He could hear the werebeast breathing, lungs so deep it growled every time it exhaled.

The elves were dying.

Jåhn Bok was not spared despite his protests. He dared to say he didn’t know- he hadn’t done this willingly-

The elves condemned him. Screamed his sins as if the thought of him surviving where they would fall hurt them more than the claws did. The Hunters killed them all.

The Hunters brought the children home.

They’d found the almost missing children just in time. Josei woke to find a hunter bringing her a terrified fox wearing a mask home. She cried as the Hunters went to return the noble children home as well, and Mao finally, finally… felt himself relax. They surviving children were safe. They were safe at last.