CHPT 209: Speak to the Fallen. Speak to yourself.

Revenge had been granted. Through the help of Arne, the Phantom Wolves, Frosty, the Glorian Lion, and the canines of the Wild, Claude was able to further cleanse the wilds of SkyHaven and right a terrible wrong.

He stood in that forest for a long while— fighting against the enticing pull of the Lunar Artifact he drew on the power of before the intense scents of blood and fear began to override his mind. He had to leave, or he'd not only eat the corpses of the Raiders, but also any living human his snarling snout caught a whiff of in the distance.

So that's what he did, he left. Leaving the massacre in the clearing to be cleaned up by the flocks of birds that watched the madness descend from above. But not everything would be removed from the forest. The stain of blood was already soaked into the very soil of the clearing all around the base. His exacted revenge lined every inch of the forest, and it would stay that way. As a discovery for some, and a warning for many others.

***

Everything under the late night sky was traversable to the young Lupine in his true form, and after accomplishing something that plagued his nightmares for so long, he felt like he'd do just that. Despite burning such a great deal of energy only hours before, the change brought with it; new limbs and lungs full of wolven power like no other. The run felt like something completely alien to him. Every leap and bound, every blast of rich cold night wind inhaled through his snout and gaping jaws, every tree he scaled and swung through like a Stone Ape of the Sunlands. It all felt otherworldly.

He ran for miles. His beastial mind and mind of reason blended sometime along the way, no longer running aimlessly but following a path led by his truest and most basic desires in those exact moments. The pack he'd learned to call his own followed with ease.

Eight beings classified as Monsters by the world, resembling the beautiful Wolves of the Old World— yet also paying homage to something entirely different.

***

After reaching his destination, the Lunar Magic he'd absorbed was burned almost completely. The other— more animal, aspects of his mind melted away with its loss of power and influence on him, allowing him to shift back and see where he'd been led to. For a moment, he was completely lost, but the valleys and rolling hills that led to the once undead forest became familiar in an instant.

He'd come to visit 4 unmarked graves.

***

He walked the valley for a long stretch of minutes, slowly being fed flashes of what happened in the area only weeks previously while the Wolves followed. Frosty snarled in angry remembrance of the area beside him, showing that he too recalled everything upon their arrival.

They reached the graves not long after, sitting in silence amongst each-other.

Frosty and the Phantom Wolves sat in the grass at attention, their eyes and ears trained on Claude intently waiting for what he'd do.

He stood ahead, at the foot of the graves— not needing a stone to know where they were since the location felt like it would be burned into his brain forever.

His cloak hung loosely over his long limbed muscled frame while his hands clasped tightly around the steel tipped spear he'd taken from the base. Beneath the cloak and at his back, his swords were placed in their sheaths and covered by the shining bulk of a leather backpack holding the psychotic ramblings of the WereWolf, Aeron. Ramblings that may be able to shed light on how he was able to communicate and order around a species of monster that was thought to be beyond mindless in all aspects.

Despite the level of absolute importance the notes possibly contained, something else in his bag held an equal— if not higher, level of importance to a race other than the humans. The Lunar Artifact.

An object not even Arne had heard of, but after seeing it in action he was sure of it's devastating capabilities. It changed a WereWolf from what usually was a frightened man or woman infected by the Silver Cursed, to a monster in complete control of his overwhelming power— no longer needing a Full Moon.

A power such as that could easily tip the scales of balance in the supernatural world. A world where Arne assumed Vampires stood at the top due to the fact that they could seamlessly blend into the world of humans, their power would always be their own and would continuously grow with age. If the many hidden packs of WereWolves all of a sudden had their own easily accessible source of power, a war to change the pecking order of the once human transforming races would be imminent.

An object that beings with the power to level cities would fight over, an object of that power now sat in the hands of a young 15 year old Lupine who had his own agenda to follow and no connection to the supernatural underbelly that snaked all across the earth at all. To say Arne was on the verge of somehow having an aneurysm was an understatement.

But that didn't matter at this very moment.

***

"I don't even know what I'm doing here…." Claude suddenly said following a sigh of frustration while he eyed the graves.

"[Sure you do. I've seen you do this before, Claude. Speak what you feel— even if it comes out as a bit of a mess. Also, I've been told it's easiest to speak as if they're watching from somewhere in the sky. When a fellow Lupine fell, our kind did something very similar.]" Arne replied.

Claude took another calming breath, tapping the flat of his spear against the soft grass before crouching and placing a hand on the ground at the foot of the graves.

"Erhm….I—" He stopped abruptly after noticing the Wolves moved to sit closer. Ashe and her fellow female Phantom Wolves, Noct, Cali and Ghost appeared at his left. The former Alpha pressed her nose against his shoulder in an all too human gesture of support while Frosty sat at his right with Shadow and Onyx. The PitWolf eyed the graves with a facial expression somehow similar to his own.

"Chadwick, Ansel, Oliver, Brenda...We did it." Claude corrected, "I kept my promise, Brenda. Rikah and her Raiders won't be able to do what she did to you all to anyone else ever again…" He paused for a moment, digging deeper within himself to truly say what he wanted. What came out wasn't what he thought he'd say to be honest. But it felt correct.

"I hate killing humans. I absolutely hate it. I'm trying to be a Hero— like you guys, and here I am. I told Ursula we're training to be Heroes at the University— Heroes that save people….and here I am doing the opposite in a way...I ripped out a woman's heart today." Claude paused, groaning as he fought not to cry with the overflow of anger and self loathing emotions.

He stayed that way for a long stretch of seconds before once again raising his head, with a facial expression as hard as the bark of the trees in the distance, "I ripped out someone's heart today. And I'd do it again. I'd do it a thousand more times if I have to. And I will have to. I just don't think I live up to what I believe it means to be a Hero anymore, but I'll still save lives….and keep my promise, that'll be tested soon. Rikah said more Raiders will come. More people like her— and possibly stronger. I'll make sure they meet the same fate as her— I'll get stronger. I'll have to kill more humans— and I'd be dumb to assume I wouldn't. But right now that's not the issue. I'm just….worried."

He took another deep breath to center his thoughts before continuing.

"The future doesn't look great for me— if I'm being honest. Aside from the possible incoming wave of stronger Raiders and a HellBreeder who's after my friends. I somehow got sucked into a battle of warring races that may end the world as you guys knew it. The bastards killed my father, and their leader, Remus, is some sort of Shape Shifter God that I stand in opposition of because I somehow fit the mold of Romulus too well to be anything else. Me, my Wolves and Arne, against a race that may have the power to change the world. I'm scared, and if that wasn't enough. I was chosen by a God. A God that wants to destroy the planet and the other Gods entirely. So, if the Raiders never come and if Remus never wakes…there's still a chance that Ragnarok does. As Fenrir says, winter is coming. What I'm trying to say is, it's a lot. It's too much, but I'll fight. I'll fight until my whole body is scar tissue and my eyes have seen more blood than rainfall. I just want you guys to know that I'll make mistakes. I'm still weak, naive and too emotional to be the most effective man— Lupine for the job. People will die, but I'll fight for them— even if they never meet me. I have to fight, because they all took from me. Dolion and his Lupines of Remus took my family, the Raiders took my innocence and Fenrir is fighting to take my humanity and destroy my home…"

He paused, finally bringing words to what was to come terrified him more than anything ever had. It was unfathomable.

"[Take your time. Your speaking your truth, keep telling them what you want them to hear. Your doing great, better than I did.]" Arne said, sounding distant.

Claude flipped his spear and stabbed it into the dirt, emphasizing the finality in his next words.

".....I'm outclassed as hell. But I've got stamina, I'll keep going. I'll keep my promise to you all. And I'll try not to disturb your graves by letting a giant Wolf God— or giant Wolf men, raze hell on earth."

With that, he stood up and rolled his shoulders before slowly bowing. The Wolves followed his movements as if it was repeatedly rehearsed instead of being done for the first time. The words entered the abrupt silence, coming out easier than anything he'd ever said. He'd left such a message before, but every time he said it, the sentence felt like it became more important. It felt like it was soothing him in mind and body. If his recent speech was labeled as difficult, his parting words were as easy as breathing.

"Chadwick, Oliver, Ansel and Brenda. You've been avenged."