CHPT 222: A Stream of Mysteries Flow down the Pages of a Journal.

Monday Afternoon, Nov 12th, 2240

Claude's day started off rocky as per usual-- something made even worse with his time spent in the Astral Realm with Fenrir. He never thought training under the watchful eye of a prideful Wolf God would be anything pleasant-- but he also didn't think it would be flat out hellish. Which it was.

Even though it was training aimed towards Claude gaining the "sTrENgTH oF tHE JotUnN!!", the real work began in the department of stamina. Something Wolves had an uncanny abundance of. Fenrir was absolutely no exception.

They ran for hours. In the beginning he was just focused on keeping up-- but also not getting so close that him and his wolves would be brought to their knees by the aura of a feral God. It was a hassle, but it also made him question the Realm of the Astral. Questions like; Was it his own? What life resided here?

In his halfway transformed state, he felt full of predatory exuberance. Winds of all temperatures blew against his fast moving greyish skinned frame, his feet/paws bounded through icy forests that seamlessly blended into clearings and swamps. He jumped over rivers that were practically emptied by Fenrir's gigantic paws splashing them out of existence and he even scaled short rock faces that worked blisters into his pawed palms as he fought to keep up with the God of Wolves.

Once he did, the veins in his legs screamed with power and drawn out effort as he stood at the base of a rather large hill. At its apex, the shadow of Fenrir loomed over him like a storm cloud. Even from such a distance, he couldn't look at Fenrir's face-- only the thick wiry furred legs and chest that moved with the ease of someone who definitely didn't run for tens of miles. Despite the troubled feelings Claude had towards the God, he couldnt help but be fearfully awestruck. Sure running was simple, but he still found it amazing and it told of Fenrir's otherworldly physical abilities.

Those same abilities he seemed to expect of Claude as a boulder came rolling down the hill at him like a giant stone bullet.

From that point on thats where their training began to grow his strength into that of a monster. Or Jotunn, as Fenrir put it.

Time was odd. Very relative-- especially in the Astral Realm. Where the run to the hill felt almost easy and quick, pushing a boulder up a snowy hill was beyond strenuous and painstakingly long. Something made more unbearable by Fenrir shooting him disparaging marks from atop the hill.

During his sleep on that night, he tasted failure. A taste he was rather used to. Failure to keep Samuel and Tai within the forest, failure to keep his friends out of his dangerous life, failure to save the Arachnoid infested Village-- and the Goblin infested village. In fact, every day that he went without ripping out Dolion's throat and forcefully feeding it to him was a failure.

But one thing was for sure. He could work towards fixing a few of those failures and stopping others from happening again. That's what Fenrir allowed him to do ironically enough.

Despite his words that attempted to appeal to his more murderous side, he was supportive in his own way-- he saw something in Claude. Fenrir saw that he needed this.

Just himself, a mountainous hill, a damn near immovable object and the dark cloak of night. The perfect place for him to let loose and be in his own mind while he pursued progress.

With every inch he pushed the object up the hill, it was a small victory. And everytime his bloodpumped quads and calves gave out and sent him back a dozen steps, he'd let out a rage filled snarl and punch the boulder until his bleeding knuckles dripped into the snow beneath. The sounds of flesh and bone against rock only made smaller by Fenrir's howls and laughs. He seemed to enjoy Claude's anger.

The rest of the night was spent that way. Claude, The Phantom Wolves, Fenrir and a boulder. It lasted forever. and when he fell for a final time, right before the boulder could roll him into a pancake, Ursula startled him awake.

***

Even now, as he walked through the student infested hallway towards his Monster Species Studies class, he felt it. Sometimes the Astral Realms effects had a tendency to come back with you into the physical world. An unfortunate quirk that left him still feeling the aching muscle-torn buzz in his shoulders, chest and legs.

By the time he entered his class and plopped into his infinite selection of unoccupied seats, he let out a sigh of relief.

But now was not the time to relax. Immediately, his hands were flipping through the concealed confines of his leather backpack that was currently filled with enough information to shake the natural world and supernatural underground.

"[Careful...CAREFUL FOR GODS SAKE!]" Arne panicked as Claude brushed aside the leather pouch he put the Lunar Artifact inside of.

"I can almost guarantee you that screaming inside my head with your preppy ass accent is bound to make me be the exact opposite..." Claude replied before grabbing ahold of a weathered leather notebook and using his backpack as a shield to hide it while he opened it.

"[What-- You're reading that now?]" Arne questioned.

"This is the first bit of free time ive had in days. Of course i am." Claude replied before opening the first page of Aeron's book of-- possible, horrors.

He could almost hear his heartbeat pick up in his ears with the memory of Aeron and his creations as he opened the book. Questions of what he'd see filled his mind. Images of dissected people and Gnolls, writings of his kills in horrific detail. He wondered if reading even the first page of the psychotic WereWolf's book would scar him beyond repair.

Nothing.

"[Well. That's rather....anticlimactic.]"

Claude silently agreed before flipping over to the next page. Immediately, his nose was filled with the scents of ink, old sweat and fear.

"These pages will tell me how he felt with each inscription...." Claude thought with another sniff.

To his surprise, the first page was rather mundane. The book looked to start as some sort of a diary with a date and time at the top of the page.

"September fifth, five in the morning..."

"[Feels like years ago doesn't it?]"

Claude nodded in agreement, "Feels like a different time..", He continued.

"It seems I've survived the treacherous blood bathed events that took place inside of my most recently assigned Tangent approximately three whole days ago-- a Tangent of Mythical Ranking. I was unable to log my work while inside of said Tangent due to the brutal and action packed nature of the forest that took ahold of me and the team of Heroes assigned to me once we entered...." Claude froze and took his eyes off the sloppy words fearfully inked onto the page with the speedy efficiency of someone who wrote often.

"[What is it?]"

Claude tried not to look disturbed as the first student entered and took a seat at the front of the class. "Aeron. He was a Tangent Biologist....just like my Father."

Arne was silent for a moment. "[That explains a great deal of things....but is also rather unsettling.]"

Claude shook himself back into focus before continuing, "Yea..... anyway."

"I was able to understand the otherworldly adversaries we were facing based on the terrain and plant life found withing the Tangent. The first indicator being the flowers found within only one kind of Tangent. Silver Tulips. Something thats rather fitting now that i think about it...a flower that represents change and rebirth found in its own twisted nature, rising from the ground within the home of the Silver Cursed. The very beings that turn men into WereWolves...."

"Cl-claude....hehe...hello?"

Claude was startled out of his readings in response to someone calling his name. Before he even saw who it was, his nose told him everything with ease.

Sweat, fear, paper, body odor and anxiety. All smells assigned with the person who spearheaded his Monster Species Studies class, Prof. Alvis.

As always, his brown hair that was thinning at the top was slicked with sweat while beads ran down his forehead and comically long face. He stood unsurely on the navy blue and black tile floor while he tried to stretch out his lanky frame to speak to Claude from across the classroom. He held his University issue long-coat closed over his body in a self soothing matter as he watched him.

Claude didn't need his increased body language understanding to know he made the Professor nervous. Most people did.

"Erhm....Forgive me Professor, i was a bit lost in my bag...hehe." Claude said letting out an attempted smile and friendly laugh.

A smile that faded as Prof. Alvis shrunk, "Ah!..Uh...Y-yes it seems that was the case. Is everything alright?"

"Yep. All good." Claude replied as a student crossed his vision and took a seat at a black marble table ahead of him.

"V-very well..haha. I was just wondering how you're doing?"

Claude felt himself smile genuinely-- this time making sure not to show teeth. Despite the Professors sheepish manner, he enjoyed his company and classes. They had something in common. A deep interest in monsters-- all creatures of the world for that matter.

"Im alright, you?"

"Ah g-good. I.....I too am doing w-we--AH!" He jumped mid sentence as a student silently appeared in front of him and took a seat.

".....Maybe a b-bit jumpy." Prof. Alvis jokingly corrected as he readjusted his big round glasses. "A-anyway. St-ay tuned, this class should be fun!" He said before turning on his heels and heading back to the navy blue chalk board.

"Right." Claude replied to his back before continuing to read.

"...Abruptly after locating the signature flowers of the Silver Cursed, a legion of howls shook my ears and magically brightened the moon that illuminated our path. The team of Heroes assigned to me looked excited-- they even shared a laugh. I knew the Midnight Wardens were a horrible Guild to work with...."

Claude read the sentence over. Again. Again...again..again. He read it multiple times, hoping it would magically change to a Guild less ominous and shrouded in mystery that felt connected to him somehow. But, it didn't.

"[I remember you speaking of this Guild. Its still too soon to look into anything, all Guilds have a multitude of Tangent Biologists. Just keep reading, learn what you can from this.]" Arne advised.

Claude swallowed and silently continued, ".....For the moment, my lapse in judgement felt faulty. I knew these Midnight Wardens housed powerful members, but not to such a degree. The giant Wolf-like monsters the size of horses came bounding over hills and through valleys towards us in seconds. The Heroes slaughtered them with about as much hesitation as one took before breathing. The Mage cast tornadoes of fire that burned the grass even near me....it was so hot inside. The Swordsman dashed through the burnt remains of the forest in a flash. Blood and split in half monsters were left in his wake. Even the Archer screamed of laughter as she let off dark purple electrical shots from her longbow. I know i was supposed to feel relaxed....but the more of the Silver Cursed they killed, the more scared I became. I currently lack the required understanding to explain the feelings they drew out of me. Something akin to dread maybe..."

"[Fire tornadoes that clear out forests, Aura Empowered Lightning arrows, Swordsmen faster than the eye can trace.....these Heroes are high Silver or Gold-- since its a Mythical Ranked Tangent i'd say Gold.]" Arne commented.

"Seems that way." Claude replied before continuing to read about how they laughed while cleaving through the Silver Cursed with an unnatural level of cruelty. The gruesome detail in which Aeron wrote almost made him want to shut the journal, but he was drawn in completely towards the end of the page.

"....I was shaken by the time all of the Silver Cursed were slain...their dried blood still covers me. I'd thought it was over until i heard a final somber howl. The Boss of the Tangent. A bipedal monstrosity with claws like swords and teeth like knives. He threw curses and spat obscenity's in the way any Boss of a Tangent somehow knows their own cursed form of the human language. I knew this team of incredibly equipped Heroes could beat this horror-- but they didn't. They conversed....." Claude noticed his penmanship became shaky, "I lacked the hearing i fear i now have to hear what they discussed...but the conversation was disclosed after the Swordsman cut open his arm and showed the creature his blood. Im still unaware of what that meant, but what followed was my own demise of sorts...."

"[....]"

"What the fuck am I reading!" Claude raged in his thoughts.

"[I fear we may be in over our heads..]"

Claude felt himself agreeing with Arne before continuing to read while students filtered inside.

"...The female Archer came for me. She jokingly spoke of me not being of any help and they'd decided that me slaying the Boss would suffice. I still can't exactly believe my own memory....but they were serious. She grabbed me with the strength of a dozen trained men and dragged me to the feet of the Boss. Soon after i was mauled. The monster ripped, bit and clawed me all over before spitting me out to the Midnight Wardens. The last thing I remember seeing was the Tangents timer running out, leaving it as an Open Tangent. I'm not sure if the Midnight Wardens enjoy simply killing humans-- but since im alive, i can assume they killed the the final Silver Cursed and left me to rot. Only i didn't rot, I survived and am know incredibly hungry in the middle of a forest."

"[Did they forcibly change him??]"

"Yes." Claude answered without a doubt

"[I'm so puzzled. What does their blood have to do with being able to converse on even terms with the Boss of a Mythical Ranked Tangent?]"

"I didn't even know you could do that..." Claude replied before letting his eyes fall on the page again, now splotched with drops of blood. He was injured while he wrote this.

".....If my studies serve me correct. A survivor of the Silver Cursed needs to begin consuming calories immediately to sustain the heightened metabolic rate of what i am.....i am a WereWolf. I will kill people once a month...possibly change others.....I can already feel the change. The sound of the early morning birds is almost painful, I can hear a river-- yet I know its a ways away from my current location. I can smell blood.....a staple scent aggravator of WereWolves and Vampires. Luckily, I don't have a family to worry about harming. Maybe I can learn to deal with this and cure it. But that starts by eating. Until next time..."

"[Something is very wrong with this final entry...]"

"A-alright? Everyone...h-here?" Prof. Alvis cut through Claude's thoughts with a clap.

He looked up with a jump and realized the class was full and books littered each table. In a rush he closed the journal and began searching his bag for books while Prof. Alvis fiddled with his chalk at the front of the class.

As he pulled out his Monster Species Studies book, he couldn't help but notice something. Something he learned from Det. Cyrene.

Writings were telling, they changed based on the writers emotion, some more exaggerated than others. Aeron's writings betrayed his words. His ink became darker and cut into the page around the words, WereWolf, Kill, Blood and Change. Yet they were almost perfectly calm and steady around his writings of a Guild basically feeding him to a talking Wolf Monster.

"He may have always been looking for this very opportunity.." Claude realized.

"[Claude....youre missing something...]" Arne repeated.

"What could I possibly be missing?" Claude asked nervously while he fluttered through the pages of his book.

Prof. Alvis' words faded out of importance along with the rest of the class as Arne spoke,

"[You see. Aside from These...Midnight Wardens-- and their obviously nefarious actions....that are giving me chills, Aeron mentioned something odd. Something very problematic....]"

"Spit it out."

"[He said he lived alone, Claude...]"

Claude dropped his pencil and simply let it roll from the table. The sound didn't affect him because he currently couldn't hear anything other than Arne and his own pulse.

"[So....how on earth did he come to think that Det. Cyrene murdered his family.....if he never had one?]"