Chapter 55 - The Children of the Moon, part 1

Despite all our efforts, and in some ways not entirely surprising, we did not make it to Bergheim before winter set in. Worse still, since we lacked a compass or any other means of orienting ourselves in the depths of the forest, we soon got lost again.

I can think of few circumstances that are more frightening or dangerous for a traveler than getting lost in the woods in winter snowfall. Unfortunately, due to some quirk of dark fate that had haunted our steps, it seemed we were about to find ourselves in one of those rare circumstances...

Elysia, 'The Adventures of the Dark Hero', vol. I,

Printed in Riverheim.

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The howl of the wolves echoed through the forest like the wails of souls condemned to torment. Elysia wrapped her worn wool cloak tighter around her, and plodded through the snow.

Twice in the past two days she had seen her pursuers, whom she had glimpsed in the shadows that stretched out beneath the endless pines. They were long and slender in shape, with their tongues lolling out and their eyes bright with ravenous hunger. Twice the wolves had come almost within range of his weapons, and twice they had retreated as if heeded by the distant howl of a chieftain, a creature so fearsome it had to be obeyed.

When she thought of that long wailing howl, Elysia shuddered. In her cry had resounded a note of horror and intelligence that reminded him of the old stories of dark woods with which she had frightened her mistress when she was little. She tried to push those pernicious thoughts of her out of her mind.

She told herself that she had only heard the howling of the leader of the pack, a creature larger and more frightening than the others, and the howling of the wolves was already a creepy enough sound without the need for her mind to populate the forest with monsters. .

The snow crunched under her feet; icy moisture seeped through the cracked leather of her boots and dampened her woolen socks. This was another bad sign, because she had heard of lumberjacks whose feet had froze on a block inside their boots, and she had to separate their toes with a knife before they became gangrenous.

The truth was that she wasn't surprised she really found herself lost in the deep heart of the forest, just as winter began. She cursed, and not for the first time, the day she met the dark hero Frey and vowed to follow him.

They had been tracking the tracks of a large monster, which Frey swore was a troll, when he began to snow. They had lost the trail under the blanket of snow, and so it was they who were lost.

Elysia fought back the wave of panic that washed over her at the thought that they might very well be walking in circles until they died of exhaustion and starvation. It had already happened to other travelers lost in the woods during the winter.

"Or until the wolves hunt us down." she reminded herself.

Frey looked just as miserable as Elysia. He moved forward as he used the tip of his sword like a cane to probe the depth of the snow in front of him. The crimson cloak that normally towered heroically billowing on Frey's back, dropped the dirty tatters of a tramp. The sullen madness that shone in his eyes seemed shadowed by his surroundings.

"Trees!" Frey grumbled. "The only thing I hate more than trees are cowards."

Another piercing howl roused Elysia from her reverie. He was like the others, charged with evil intelligence and greed, and he filled the catgirl with a blinding feral fear. Instinctively, she pushed her cloak back over her right shoulder to free her sword arm, her hand resting on the hilt of the weapon.

"There's no need for that, cat girl." The amused malice was evident in Frey's flint-hard voice. "Whoever yelled, call our little furry friends away from us. They seem to have found another prey."

"The children of Hydria…" Elysia commented in a frightened voice as she remembered her old tales.

"Hydria? Isn't she that one of the divinities of the six great gods cult?"

"Yes. They say that when the six great gods still walked among mortals, Hydria, the Queen of the seas, lady of the moon, and goddess of water, fathered a son with a mortal man; those of her lineage obtained the divine blessing of being able to change form and choose between that of a human and that of a wolf. They retreated to the wilds of the world long ago, and some claim that their blood was corrupted when mixed with the powers of the dark gods and that they now feed on human flesh."

"Werewolves..." whispered Frey "I do know those"

"Yes." Elysia said as she nodded her head. "Although there are two different types, the natural ones and the infected ones. Lycanthropy is a disease or curse, much like Vampirism. The Children of Hydria are natural, their abilities are inherited, transmitted from parents to children; direct descendants of the goddess Hydria. Whereas infected werewolves are the product of receiving severe injuries from a Son of Hydria or another infected werewolf."

"Hmm, so they're Lycans anyway. Well, if any of them come within reach of my sword, I'll spill some of that blood. I care very little if they are descendants of a goddess."

Suddenly, Frey raised a hand to signal him to be quiet, and after a moment, he nodded his head.

Elysia stopped to watch and listen. She couldn't identify any signs of pursuit anywhere. The wolves were gone, and for a moment he heard only the thunderous beating of his own heart and his gasping breath, but then he became aware of what had made Frey stop: sounds of fighting, battle cries, and the distant howling of wolves. that the wind brought them.

"Looks like they're fighting," she commented.

"Let's go kill some wolves," Frey decided. "Perhaps whoever is the target of the attack knows the way out of this tree-infested place and hellspawn."

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Panting from running through the flurries of snow, her face battered by blows from branches and wounds from rosehip thorns, Elysia bounded into the clearing, and a dozen crossbows swung to aim at her. . The air was thick with the smell of ozone, and the corpses of men and wolves lay everywhere.

Slowly, the catgirl lifted her arms as her ragged breaths made clouds in the air. Her sweat trickled down her face despite her cold, and she told herself that another time she should remember that it was not a good idea to run through the woods in winter, dressed in warm clothes. That is, if she was still alive to remember anything after that, then the strangers, armed to the teeth, looked anything but friendly.

There were at least twenty of them, and several, clad in the rich furs of noblemen, wielded swords and gave orders to the others: tough, watchful-looking soldiers who, though competent, had an air of unease and fear on their faces. in his eyes. Elysia knew that she had only a few moments before they filled her with arrows like a pincushion, her non-human characteristics, like her tail and her ears, made the situation much more dangerous than it already was; for she had the possibility of being mistaken for a beast woman, or even a Lycan.

"Don't shoot!" she said. "I have come to help you."

She wondered where Frey was. She had come quite a distance, and in the heat of the moment she had allowed her excitement and her long legs to carry her ahead of her mate's armor. At that moment, that could turn out to be a fatal mistake, although she wasn't sure what the dark hero could do when faced with that array of flashing ranged weapons.

"Oh yeah, really?" asked a sarcastic voice. "You've been out for a walk in the woods, haven't you? And then you heard the noise of the fray. And you've come to investigate this little ruckus, haven't you?"

The one who spoke was a tall nobleman. Elysia had never been much into the nobility, and this fellow seemed like a perfect example of that syphilitic caste. A trimmed black beard framed a pale, narrow face, from which startlingly black eyes gazed at him; in addition, a huge nose in the shape of an eagle's beak gave it a predatory air.

"My friend and I got lost in the woods, and we heard the wolves and the noise of battle. We have come to help, if we could!"

"Your friend?" asked the nobleman in a wry voice, at the same time pointing a thumb at a tall, beautiful young woman who was chained near them. "Won't she be your friend? Aren't you referring to this witch?"

"I have no idea what you mean, sir." Elijah replied. "I have not seen that young lady in my entire life."

She turned to glare at her back, but the burly Frey was nowhere to be seen. "Maybe its better this way." Elysia thought, since the dark hero was not famous for his social tact. Surely, at that moment, he would have said something that would have gotten them both killed.

"I was traveling with a partner…"

Then it occurred to her that it might not be such a good idea to mention Frey right now. The dark hero was a conspicuous character, and perhaps these men would pull a trick if they recognized him. Anyone would be interested in the magical items that Frey carried

"Apparently, he is lost" finished the cat girl with a weak voice.

"He Throws the Sword," the nobleman said, and Elysia obeyed. "Sven! Heinrich! Tie his hands!"

Two of the soldiers ran to carry out the order, and Elysia was kicked to the ground. She fell face first into the snow and felt a cold dampness begin to soak through her clothes.

Opening her eyes she found that she was lying before the carcass of a wolf, and as she gazed into the animal's death-clouded eyes, the soldiers quickly and efficiently tied her hands behind her back.