The Ridder and the Wolves

Her name was Lilith. A spiteful corrupt priest gave that name to her and the masses branded her with it, used it to spit at her, and to prod her. But she accepted it, cherished it, loved it. And for that they cursed her, hated her, lashed at her. But I . . . I loved her . . . and they took her away from me. Alone in darkness, I look back to remember her beautiful face. The only image of purity left in my desolate prison is her glistening eyes, pale-blue like a cool lake amongst hot humid air; her fair skin, a touch of white summer flowers; and her soft yellow hair, as bright and fresh as the morning sun. But I grow tired as I am ravaged in this prison, and I am prone to forget even her. Tortured by demons, using me for their sadistic pleasures, I wail helplessly. Still I desperately hold on to my Lilith. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her face. I think . . . its been a hundred years since I uttered her name with my lips.

She was born in a brothel. She never knew her father, he could have been one millions, who visited her mother, who was a prostitute. Unfortunately her mother died at the hands of a sick bastard with a lust tied to an abusive rage. Lilith was left motherless as a young age of three in the hands of Celestine, a tyrannical woman, who ran the brothel and was rumored to be some immortal demon. Celestine was beautiful as fire, and her worlds felt like flames. She had a backhand that could break your lip and a grip that could tear your skin. Celestine ran her brothel efficiently. She kept her customers happy and the merchandise healthy, but if anyone stepped out of line her wrath burned violently.

That wretched woman, Celestine, hated Lilith, who was rebellious unlike the other children of the prostitutes. Celestine would make valuable women of the little girls, while the boys became her personal bodyguards, although some took part in the sex business. Celestine would abuse Lilith and give her to abusive clients. That wench, she would get in the end . . . I tore her flesh with my very hands. I killed her for Lilith.

Lilith, I sill remember her . . . I have trouble recalling when we first met. We must have been so young. I think we were in love then, but we had no words to describe our feelings. As we grew older the changes began and love became infused with lust. It wasn’t a detrimental lust, it was lust of heart, emotional giving imbued with physical needs. I still remember so long ago chasing her, we were adolescents. Her beauty reminded me of a sparkling river lined by towering golden trees.

There is one particular summer day I remember. I was chasing her playfully through a forest. “Lilith!” I called. Giggling, I ran through the forest as any fifteen-year-old would, searching for that hiding friend, but by that time I knew we were more than friends. Excitement washed over me as I heard her giggling in response. Her angelic voice drew the forest into a silent rapture. “You can’t hide forever!” I taunted. From the green foliage she dashed and I chased after her. I could have caught her if I wanted to, but I wanted to let her run a bit more. I wanted to watch as the evening sun danced over her skin, see her hair sway from side to side, and admire her figure under the franticly flapping dress. Catching her, I pulled her toward me and we fell to the ground. Laughing, rolling, we clutched each other as we lay on the earth, covered with leaves. Our laughing subsided, our heavy breathing slowed. So close to her I smelled her sweet breath and I wondered worriedly if I smelled fowl. She leaned in, her forehead touched my own tan skin. She smiled as we gazed into each other’s eyes, her pale-blue into my light-brown almost golden eyes, what she called ‘a taste of the sun.’ I inhaled her dulcet essence, and I fell into a sea of flowers. I wanted to kiss her, but I was afraid. I didn’t know what to do or how to start. Her body pressed against mine, I began to respond. I felt ashamed. But she smiled and giggled and kissed me on the cheek.

“You’re such a sweet boy Lir,” he teased me, and pulled leaves from my long black hair. Running off, she left me stunned and confused. I should have kissed her, oh how I should have kissed her. The time would come.

When we were younger, perhaps seven, I would run through the brothel with her. Celestine couldn’t harm us because Lilith’s mother was still alive at the time. Still Celestine would yell and howl at us. She often threatened us by throwing light harmless things in our direction, which only made us laugh.

When Lilith was seventeen her mother died. That was when I stopped visiting her at the brothel. Celestine’s wrath had been unleashed and often Lilith would meet me in a quiet forest with numerous burses, which I would attempt to make disappear with kisses and soft touches.

She was a beauty and she was all I had. My parents had died and I was left in the care of Angelo, the filthy bastard. But my life had made no change for the worse under the sinful Angelo. My father used to rape me when I was a little boy and he would beat me till I couldn’t move. He was massive, a monster of a man. Devilish in demeanor, he used my mother as he pleased. I hated them both, my father for his wicked ways, and my mother for not stopping him, for not standing up and leaving, for letting me suffer under his corrosive touch, forever loving him in the first place, for bringing me the monster’s progeny into the world.

I stayed at the brothel with Lilith as much as I could because I didn’t want to go home to my father. Whenever he touched me, abused me, used me . . . I would run to the brothel to find Lilith, who would take my pain away and wipe my tears. I would always try to forget the look in my father’s dark brown eyes. The way light would sink into the crevice down the left side of his face, that scare he never explained from what.

When I was fourteen my father tried to kill me. I had fought back after he tried to fuck me. He came at me screaming, his hands latched around my neck. I was chocking and turning blue, that’s what it took to get my damn mother to stab him with a knife. He turned from me, blood running down his side. My mother still held the knife. She swung, but he caught her hand. They struggled, he easily got the upper hand. He took the knife and drove it into her heart. His back was turned to me. I was screaming internally, ragging against the sins he committed on my flesh. The pain of every burse and broken bone returned. The embarrassment and terror of his lustful touches flared once more deep within. I held a knife in my hand. I had found it lying on a table beside me. It cried my name. I jumped up on his back and drove the knife deep into his neck. Blood sprayed cross my face. He stumbled and then died pitifully. I was triumphant, I was free.

That’s when I was placed in the care of a different monster. Angelo, the righteous priest, who all adored and loved, was the corrupt scum of the earth. Lacking parent or guardian, I was to be under his care. What he did to me might just be worse than what the demons do now.

“Lir,” he called me.

“Yes Father?”

“You are fifteen now, you are becoming aware of many things. Some of which are evil. Come I will purge you of those evils . . .”

“Father?”

I took me into a dark and quiet room. I could barely see him with the flickering flames of the torch in the cold stone chamber. He touched me, his finger traced my jaw. It felt strange and uncomfortable. I tried to pull away but I was against the wall. I heard his robes fall and I could see the orange light glimmering over his smooth skin. He grabbed me and began undressing me. I couldn’t move, I was petrified and confused, and to my horror aroused. Naked with his body against mine, I whimpered and cried at the violation, but my body withered in overwhelming euphoria. I struggled against his body and fought the suffocating feelings.

He was kissing my neck, licking my skin. He moaned as he slid against my body. His hand clutched me. He squeezed and fondled me to elicit unwilling moans and whimpers. Pressing me up against the wall, he lifted me. I could feel him prodding my rear. Sudden pain ripped through my body. He had thrust himself all the way in. My entire body tense in agony, I could not scream, but I could cry. My thick vein was rubbing against his body, the stimulation of some deep internal pleasure point, began to out weigh the tremendous pain, but I fought against the pleasure. It felt so wrong. I was wailing inside, but only tears streamed down my face. Memories of my father returned. I struggled and flailed against him.

His ebullient seed exploded into me and I found myself wrapped in orgasmic bliss as I ejaculated against his body. But I was so confused; the pleasure came against my will. I couldn’t fit it, it felt so wrong. I wanted to hold Lilith, but I was stuck against the priest as he panted and sweated all over me.

I hate that man, I hate that whole village . . . except Lilith, and after Lilith was gone, there was boy I would always cherish. I would love him . . . even when we found out how wrong it was.

Painfully alone and emotionally chaotic, I sat the edge of a lapping lake. The water was black, the sky was filled with the cold arms of night. The trees rustled somberly, not an animal made a sound under the oppressive force of darkness. My back hunched, I clutch my head. I let my black hair enshroud me from the world, as if that would hide me from the cruel earth. For the first time that forest seemed blackened. I suffered as I screamed internally at myself and at that horrid priest. I hated his touch, my pleasure, his smell, my arousal, his strength, my submission. I cried, but I fought not to sob. I held my breath as long as I could until I became faint, and then I would gasp and sob and suck in more air and hold my breath until I could no more.

The stars seemed to twinkle violently in the sky. Under the distant explosions of light, she came to me unexpectedly. She sat next to me, touching and loving my wretched flesh. I turned away, forever tainted I could not look at her. But she kissed me and said, “what is wrong?”

Something in me blossomed, I can explain it no other way . . . An uncontrollable urge to take her in my arms and kiss her. I regret washing my sorrows away by using her flesh but I did, and perhaps that was my fall . . . but by her grace I forgot my pains, and to our credit, young as we were, and as hurting as I was, the act was still made in love..

Lying on my back, I would not let her soft flesh be bruised by the rocks underneath me. So we had united with her on top and now the rest of the night we slept together, and we were not cold despite the biting air. Morning came. I awoke first and I watched as the golden sunlight lapped over her skin. Subtly I awoke her with a brush against her tender face.

“I mustn’t stay,” I said. Regretfully I left her. If only we could of held each other there for eternity. Foolish wishes, they are all I have here.

After that night with Lilith I had disturbing nightmares. I would wake sweating . . . the dreams always began with the priest. I can still remember them as fresh as when I had them.

Flickering flesh of red burning fire covers the bones of the serpentine priest, whose sharp tongue slices the air as he stares with molten black eyes into the depths of my vulnerable soul. Naked he gleams with unseen light in an empty room of darkness. I am falling, stripped of my clothes, but impossibly he stands before me motionless as I cascade into eternity. His slithering fingers and scaly arms wrap around me. He penetrates and tears through me. Still I fall. The priest gone, I lay limply in a dark and distant room. I cannot see, I am disoriented. Frantically, never knowing where I am, I thrash against soft organic walls, moist, pulsing, and warm. The walls contract, I fall to the ground. Light streams through an opening. I’m blinded. The walls move away. I am exposed, my flesh bear. I lay on an expansive rose, morbidly beautiful. Its petals black, the flower exudes a frosted wave of biting air. I slip down the flower to a smooth stone ground of shining ebony. Stone becomes dirt, emptiness a forest. Ghostly the trees loom over a misty ground. Light of the moon penetrates through dark green needles, prickling the cold night air. In the distance I see the serpentine priest and in his arms he holds Lilith, her flesh against his, but she is dead as he penetrates her flesh over and over. I lament and scream, but mist swirls around me in a giant column of confining smoke. I am embraced, kissed. Another body, firm, strong, lean, slides against mine. Through the mist I can see long black hair and green eyes. A boy a few years older than me, I did not know who he was, but I want to stay against him for eternity. He is pulled away from me, I whimper in loneliness. Fur brushes my leg, I spin around in the thick fog. I cannot see what touched me. I hear barks and howls. Another touches me, a wolf. My legs fail, I fall to the ground. Gray wolves rub against me, they lick and caress me. A haunted call tugs at my soul, “To the dark, far from the light of heaven and the flickering flames of hell, we beckon you to come. Join what once was strong and kill the demons of man. We beckon you.” I cry out and accept the beckoning. The black haired boy appears to me crying and he fades, but as he fades he is incased in the flames of hell.

I never mentioned the dream to Lilith. I didn’t want to. Together we healed each other’s wounds, warmed each other’s cold souls. Our love bound us in our fight against the world, which we alone stood to challenge. Still the dream plagued me, and I was becoming evermore distraught. I tried to conceal it from her, but I think she could tell. I’m not sure if it hurt her that I was not confiding in her, but then I confided so much that perhaps it didn’t matter. She must have believed that I would tell her in due time. I would never get that chance.

She had her own secrets though, however, much more jubilant in nature, but nevertheless serious. She came to me one afternoon. The light sparkled in her blue eyes and her blond hair danced over her sweet tender face. She look so fragile and yet so strong all at once, I was perplexed. She smiled and approached me. Holding on to me tightly, she remained silent for a moment. I could tell she wanted to tell me something, so I waited.

“Lir,” she inquired.

“Yes Lil?”

“I’m pregnant,” she stated.

I was silent as I contemplated the implications. We were young yes, eighteen, but together we could face anything and I didn’t care what others thought, I never did. I smiled and I hugged her tight.

“I love you Lil.”

There was a lurid night when I had awakened from the reoccurring dream. I was next to Lilith, we had laid together for the our last time. In the dead of night we were together under a crisp moon. I kissed her brow, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t want to loose her, not to the priest, not to anyone. I heard an abrupt snap. I jolted to my feet, Lilith was awake now. I studied the surroundings. My body tingled with fear.

“Lir, you hath lain with the demoness!”

My heart froze. Lilith grabbed my hand. “Run!” I screamed at her. But it was too late. The priest rushed forward. A bony hand smashed my jaw. I fell, my vision dimming before I became unconscious. As I futilely struggled to stand I could hear Lilith crying out at his abusive touches.

From darkness I woke. “Lilith! Lilith!” I screamed wretchedly. Pounding stonewalls, I found no exit, the door was solid and locked. I thrashed hopelessly in desperation. “Lilith!” Unable to free myself I collapsed on the ground sobbing . . .

It is hard for me to continue . . . the torture I endured at that moment . . . it outweighs all that I have bore here and ever will bear. I remember withering on the ground like a dying animal . . . I was far from death then but felt like my soul was drowning. I needed to latch on to something. I listened to my breathing. I wanted to think of nothing, but my mind flailed against my skull.

“Lilith . . .”

I suspected that she was gone, but I didn’t want to believe it. I couldn’t, not without proof. One last rage exploded with in me. I jumped up and bashed at the door. Fruitlessly I slammed my fists against the wood. The rough splintered surface cut and pierced my skin. I didn’t care. Rich dark blood spilled down my arms and splashed against the door. I collapsed against the barrier to my love.

“Lilith . . .”

The door flew open. I fell to the ground. The priest grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. He dragged me to a private room in the church. One I wasn’t allowed to go in.

“There’s you precious demon!”

“Lilith!”

Her beautiful blond hair was matted with blood, her bright eyes staring in shock. Her flesh torn, her body ruined. Decapitated, her head was held by a golden angel, her body wrapped in a black demon’s arms. Blood pooled on the ground and spilled down the statues, which defined her death.

I shook and trembled, my vision becoming dull, my ears rang. I stumbled forward and fell into her blood. I lay disoriented and screaming, but I couldn’t hear my cries.

“Lilith! Lilith!”

He killed my love, he killed my child, he rapped me while I lay in her blood.

Murder, I wanted to slaughter that man. I imagined with such delight, tearing his skin from his body, slicing the muscles to pieces. I would feed him his own skin and muscle, coated in bitter blood. To watch the blood spill across the ground in expanding puddles would be a heavenly pleasure. Before he died I would rip his eyes out with my fingers. Clawing at his flesh, I would render him blind and suffering until I thrust a stake through his heart.

But I couldn’t. Whatever truth existed in Angelo’s hypocritical, crooked, and elegant tongue, when he spoke at sermons must have leaked through and prevented me from stealing away his life . . . but then maybe I wasn’t meant to take his life . . . He did die by another’s hand . . . perhaps he was destine to die that way . . . thus . . . I couldn’t kill him . . . but knowing now why he died . . . I wish I could have killed him . . . I would be in this hell alone.

When Angelo lay asleep, I slipped away from the morally desecrated and elegantly pristine chapel. I ran through the town at midnight. The moon shone down as a guiding light. I moved through the buildings silently. I took what I wanted. They had neglected me. I didn’t care if I stole. I needed food and clothes and a sack to carry them in. The night was my accomplice.

I slung a sack over my back and disappeared into the surrounding forest. I swore to the moon and the forest that I would return to this village again and in my wake would follow a wrath, which would cleanse the land of the corruption, coating the flesh of humans. I ran till day and as I ran I brooded and cried.

In that town everything had been taken from me. From the time I was born I was considered an object. My freedom, my dignity was thrown away without thought. Defecated on by society, I cared not of societies interests, I only knew my own. My only saving love was lost, my unborn child slaughtered, I had no reason to cherish this world. Before me remained two choices: die or vanquish. I chose in that forest to vindicate my love and child for the cruelties the world forced upon them.

By morning I lay on the ground. I was a mess, tear-stained face and coved in dirt. A boy found me. He touched my shoulder and woke me up. I stared into his eyes. I was in shock. My heart beat quickly and I could hardly breath. His presence captivated me. Elegant and powerful, he held himself gracefully with a silent inner strength. I had seen him before, I had seen him in my dream. His long black hair swayed over his shoulders, his green eyes glistened.

“You don’t look well,” he spoke, “let me take you to my home.”

Speechless I nodded. I couldn’t stop staring into his eyes. I wanted to touch him. I stood slowly. My stomach grumbled and my legs protested. Still yet I had to follow him. He must have been a few years older than me, not much.

I realized that I was walking through a city. I had never been in one but I had heard of them. Buildings were large and constructed of magnificent marble. The roads were paved with cobblestone. Everything stood defiant against nature, unlike my village, which was a negotiation with nature, and often nature invaded.

“I’m Alec,” the boy said brightly.

“Lir,” I murmured.

“I like that name,” he chuckled.

He came to a large mansion, lined by a solid iron gate. I stared, once more, in amazement. In the courtyard in front of the house there was a beautiful garden, filled with luscious green plants and vibrant flowers. The path wound through the courtyard and by a white fountain of a soaring angel. Alec led me through the gates. He smiled as he watch me look around in rapture. To me the mansion looked like a temple. Great white stone columns supported up a roof. Over a large double door there were etchings in the stone of cherubs and angels, drifting through clouds. I found the inside ever more impressive than the outside. Statues, pictures, tapestries lined the wall. The floors were covered with ornate carpets. Furniture was made of skillfully crafted wood.

A man came down broad marble stares. He was a distinguished man with a joyful smile. He wore a fancy long sleeve white shirt, and black pants with shiny black leather shoes. He had gray hair, and perfect teeth. Wealthy and gracious, he smiled at Alec and then me.

“Who is this Alec? A guest? He must be cleaned and fed immediately.”

“Father, this is Lir. I found him sleeping in the forest.”

“We certainly can’t have that!” The man clapped his hands and a servant swept me off to a bathroom. The tube was quickly filled with hot water. I was given soap, towel, and clothes and left to my own.

Still disoriented and confused, I took the moment of peace to collect. Breathing in deep, I smiled briefly, as much as my remorse would allow me. For the first time in my life I had been shown care. I began to entertain the idea that the world was not so corrupt as I thought. I washed and as I washed I contemplated what this all meant for my future.

“Perhaps this is a new beginning,” I thought out loud. It was the beginning of my growth into a true warrior from a scrawny boy.

Clean and dressed in a white tunic with black breaches, I emerged to face the world refreshed. I was still somber. I would be for quite some time. The loss of Lilith to the bastard priest still eats at me today. The rest of the day I remained quite as I became acquainted to the man, known as Leon, and his son Alec. They talked and laughed. I managed to giggle once and a while. The entire time I found myself drifting to stare at Alec, I could not explain the attraction I felt to him, it was overwhelming.

It went unspoken that I was to stay with them for a while. Alec wanted me to and I think Leon did too. A room was set up for me. There was a soft warm bed, and that’s all I cared for. When night arrived I fell asleep quickly. My body and mind were exhausted. However, at midnight I would we awoken from my sleep, but not unpleasantly so.

A soft touch glanced cross my cheek. I arose from a vivid dream where I was kissing, touching, holding Lilith in my arms. I was sweating and my heart beat powerfully in a steady pace. I opened my eyes and I saw a vague figure through the blur obstructing my vision.

“Lilith?” I said absentmindedly.

“Whose Lilith?”

His voice pulled me back to reality. “Alec . . . She is a lost love . . .”

“Oh . . .”

There was an unpleasant silence, which prickled my skin. I sat up in the bed. “Why are you here?”

“I . . .” he seemed to get uncharacteristically shy. “I wanted to see you.”

Hot flames flared throughout my body. A strong and irresistible urge flooded me. I crawled over to his side and wrapped my arms around him. He didn’t resist but he was rigid and nervous. I pulled him tight to my body and kissed his warm neck. I heard him sigh. I ran my fingers under his cloths and over his silky flesh. He was breathing quickly, but his inhibitions were fading. Leaning back on me, Alec was panting. He pulled off his shirt. I continued to kiss his neck and shoulder. My fingers glided down his chest and stomach. He was lean and strong. His skin was a deep golden tan. Turning to face me he pulled off my shirt. We clutched each other, our flesh sliding against flesh.

Burning, we played out our explosive desires throughout the night. For me I was able to forget momentarily the pains of my life, but also I knew that I had found a new love. I knew he was the one I saw in my dream. Still I didn’t understand all that I saw in that dream, but I believed at that moment that I had finally found my place.

As time passed I became a family member of that household. I finally experienced the love of father and child. Under the cultured care of Leon I became educated. He also trained me to use a sword. Alec was already a formidable swordsman and under their attention I learned quickly. Alec also knew other styles of fighting, which Leon didn’t approve of, but then Leon didn’t know Alec’s experience. Alec had become apart of a rather questionable group, which perpetuated illegal cage fights. Alec was well known in the different circles of the cage fighting. He was very successful and had won large amounts of money from his bouts. I joined him and I found how alluring it was. He trained me first and then let me loose into the cage.

The blood, the pain, the triumph, the loss, the drive, the need, all became so addictive that I began throwing myself abusively into the cage. I was successful because I knew no limits, because I enjoyed the pain. I was nothing like Alec. He had finesse. He danced around his opponents and picked them apart. I was not ignorantly aggressive. I had great technique learned from Alec, but I preferred to plow through my opponents and relished the pain I received.

A few years went by and I left behind my broken past. I did not think a single catastrophe could strike again. I would find out all to soon that I was wrong.

Alec and I were returning from a cage fight. The moon appeared strangely red and large in the black sky. We were laughing and recalling the events of night. We had a few injures, which we covered up so that Leon would not question us about their sources. The large doors of the entryway were ajar. We turned to look at each other quizzically. We proceeded quietly into the house. Everything was in disarray. Broken statues and furniture lay strewn across the ground. We rushed through the house looking for Leon. Several servants lay dead on the ground. Terror was ripping at my chest. I wound one servant cowering in a corer.

“Where is Leon?” I demanded.

“In his room,” the servant cried.

I sped up the stairs and burst into Leon’s room. He was dead, bloody and mutilated. Alec was close behind me. He wailed in horror and pushed past me. He held his father in his arms. I collapsed to my knees. Alec found a letter next to Leon. He read it. His face filled with rage. Alec threw the later into the air. I picked it up and read it. The killer was a vindictive opponent of Alec. The killer had lost and wanted Alec to pay.

I leaned against the wall. My hands fell to my sides. The letter fell from my grip and my fingers brushed a leather-covered book. I could feel tears pouring down my face. I glared at the book for no reason. My mind was a whirl of thoughts and sharp emotions. I picked it up because I didn’t know what else to do.

It was Leon’s journal. I began flipping through the pages. He had been lonely, old, he had lost hopes of having a family of his own. Alec was adopted. I read on. The pages began to describe Alec’s parents. Suddenly my interest was sparked. There was something strange in their description. Then I saw the names and sketches of them. Alec was my older brother. I dropped the journal. Turmoil tore through my body and I wailed helplessly.

“Is every moment of peace in my life only a setup for a cascade?”

Alec was by my side, he had picked up the journal, but didn’t understand what had caused my outburst.

“You’re my older brother Alec. You were adopted. Those people he describes as your parents . . . I know them they are mine.” Alec looked at me in horror. I could only cry.

“Lir! It doesn’t make what we have any less pure.”

“We are blood brothers Alec! How could what we’ve done not be any less pure? We’re brothers.” It was all too overwhelming. Leon’s death coupled with the devastating news crushed my heart and soul. “What now Alec? Leon’s dead . . . what now?” All my emotions wanted me to reach out to him to hold him, but I felt appalled by the thought that he was my own flesh and blood, yet I could not fight the strong love for him. I could tell he was torn inside by my words. He wanted to love me despite our relation.

I know, had we known earlier that we were blood brothers, we would have never thought about touching each other as we did, or becoming so attached to each other. It was too late now.

Desperate and confused, I wanted to mend all that had been undone. I stood and pulled Alec close to me. Crying and kissed his neck affectionately. “We’ll get through this Alec.” He returned my embrace. His own tears dripped down my neck.

That night we slept in the house holding each other. My sleep was not restful. The haunting dream, which I thought had left me, returned to me. I woke up abruptly. Alec was still asleep beside me. Sudden nausea overcame me and my stomach churned vigorously. I had an oppressive urge to run outside. I was delirious. The loss of Leon flooded me. Faces of my broken past returned. I cried hopelessly. I ran into a forest far from the city.

“I can’t take it any more! I’ve lost everything and what I do have I cannot have! I only pollute my brother’s flesh! I will end this! Let me end this!”

There was a distant and lamenting howl in the night. The sky was filled with the heavy moon. The shadowed forest shimmered in silver light. I heard soft pattering of feet. The forest echoed with heavy breaths. Glowing yellow eyes surrounded me. Pale bristling teeth greeted me. Gray coats glimmered. Wolves encircled me. I watched as the pack parted in front of me. Two wolves from the darkness walked toward me. The rest bowed their head in the presence of the Lord and Lady. I was bombarded with a celestial voice, which accompanied their growls and barks.

The Lord spoke, his eyes burned with fire. “You have suffered at the hands of man as much as we have. You know our pain as humanity destroys our beloved world. You want to wipe the corrupt from the world and bring justice for the death of your loved ones.”

The Lady soothed, her voice called with care. “Let us give you the means to act out your vengeance for we have the power to bring bout an end to the vile, but we do not have the means to execute it. Son of man, who suffers from humanity’s own destruction, you must be the vessel of our power.”

Through tears I cried, “You are my commander, I will be your humble slave!”

The Lord corrected, “No, you will be our prince and we shall be your knew family. To bind our blood we will make a sacrifice, but you also must make a sacrifice.”

The Lady explained, “Within our chosen one you will find a weapon. It lies buried within his soul. Once you have pulled it free, the chosen one must pull what is his from your soul.”

I bowed my head, “anything my Lady and Lord.”

A wolf came forward and I saw my reflection wrapped in gray fur. He sat before me. His chest began to glow. I reached forward. My fingers touched the red pulsing light emanating from his body. He winced as my fingers disappeared into him. I kept reaching forward. I could tell he was withering in pain. Everything inside was warm and swirling. Up to my elbow, my fingers touched something cold. I pulled slowly on a handle. My arm free a weapon began to emerge. The wolf was crying now. From his soul I pulled a broad sword. The hilt was golden and engraved with angry wolves. I sat back dumfounded. The chosen wolf came close to me. He lunged at me and I cried out. His head disappeared into my chest. Red light shined from the hole in my chest. I was screaming from the pain, blaring through my body. The wolf jerked its head out and in is mouth it held a golden necklace with my face on it. Panting and still in pain I righted myself on the ground. He held the necklace in front of me and I knew what he wanted. I placed it around his neck like a collar. The wolves approached me then. Affectionately whining, they caressed me and loved me. I found my home, I found my family.

The Lord and Lady declared, “You shall be reborn to night. You will not bare the name Lir for that was your human name. You shall be called Cathal.”

Thus I spent my night with the wolves.