The earth beneath Cyrus shook as lightning struck a few miles away. It was raining pretty hard now and his thick fur coat was becoming drenched and matted. He hadn't even notice that the sun had set. He looked down at himself, as if he was checking if he had lost his curse of lycanthropy. But sure enough, he still had the same canine-like body that he got everyday at about this time.

'I better find shelter,' he thought to himself. Who knows what someone would do if they saw him like this. A few minutes later, he found himself making his way towards Glenn's house. It wasn't the best idea, he'd admit that, but it was times like these that only a friend could offer assistance.

It was a blue, two-story house at the end of a long, paved road. It was a nice little neighborhood. Especially for Brooklyn. As he walked up his friend's driveway, he noticed that his parents' cars weren't there. Perhaps this would be easier than he had thought. He rushed up some cement steps to the front door, and rang the small, glowing doorbell. There was no answer. He tried a few more times, but there was still no answer. He scratched his furry head which had became smooth from the pouring rain. Looking up, he saw that none of the lights were on. "Is he gone too?" he asked himself, but before he could think anymore, he was interrupted by a voice behind him.

"Cyrus?"

Cyrus jumped and looked at the figure who he could just barely see by the light of a full moon.

"Glenn! Where did you come from?" asked the werewolf.

"I was headed towards the park, but I heard the doorbell, so I turned around."

"Keen ears. But why were you going to the park at this hour?"

"I thought since my parents are away on vacation, I'd practice in a more serene atmosphere," the boy explained as he showed Cyrus a thick, hard-covered book labeled The Arts of Magic.

Cyrus gave Glenn a funny look. "You don't really believe in that stuff do you?"

"If a person like you exists, I don't see which Magic wouldn't," Glenn snickered.

Cyrus rolled his eyes. "Well if you're still going than I guess I'll come along," he said, "I've got nowhere else to go."

***

In the midst of the storm, another boy found himself walking among the water-ridden roads of Brooklyn. He stood with his hands in his pockets, facing a shaded park. He must've walked at least a mile from his house by this point. But he wasn't planning on going back. Not after what his parents had done to him. So the boy continued into the darkness of the park. He had been there several times before in his childhood, so he knew his way around.

There was a muddy path that led from the large main region of the park to a smaller, secluded part in the woods. He walked down the path, his worn sneakers almost falling off in the sticky mud, and into the small area. The only object in this section was a strange stone slab, standing stiff and solitary in the center of this grassy place. Half of it was rounded, but the other half was completely flat as if some giant ax just sliced it in half and got rid of one of the sides. But it didn't quite stand straight up. It was tilted, so the flat side was gazing up at the sky. As if the stone was a person, the boy looked up at the night sky to see what it was looking at. The sky was cluttered with monstrous, black clouds, but they separated just right so he could see the full moon and all of its celestial glory. He shrugged it off and went to sit on the stone. He had a pain in his side from all the walking and anger that he had endured. But before he could rest up his strength, he felt the atmosphere change around him.

It was a strange feeling. Things felt lighter and warmer like night had burst into day and all the rain had all been soaked up by a giant sun. He felt safe and happy like all his fears had been soaked up with the rain. But there was no sun. The moon still shined directly over him. The light was coming from behind him. As he stood up and turned around, he saw it. It was a divine form, resembling a man with fair hair and dark brown eyes that appeared to stare straight through anything he looked at. Floating in mid-air, the man was surrounded by a light as brilliant as the stars themselves. Clad in a white robe and wielding a broadsword, it was obvious that this creature--whatever it was--was otherworldly.

"Greetings, Zack," said the man in a smooth, echoing voice.

The boy just barely recognized his name. He was dazed by the purity of the being before him.

"H-h-hello!" Zack stuttered.

The man smiled sincerely.

"Listen to me, Zack. I'm afraid I must borrow your body for a while. An occurrence of great importance has just happened in which I need a human form. You will keep consciousness and control of your body, but I shall be buried in the deep depths of your mind. You must then follow my every command. Do you understand?

This was all happening so fast, but Zack was taking it all in. This being was beyond any importance of his life. He felt as if there was no choice, and there didn't need to be a choice. It was clear that he had to help this angelic creature. It was his destiny.

So Zack nodded his head and the illuminated man nodded his. Before he knew it, everything that was once the beautiful forum before him was a cloud of pure white dust that flooded into his eyes and mouth. He couldn't breathe for a second, but he was back to normal once all the dust had entered his body.

"Pick up the blade," echoed the being's voice inside Zack's head.

It took a moment for Zack to realize what he meant, but then he noticed that the broadsword which the man wielded had not disappeared. It was laid down beside the strange stone. So Zack approached it and picked the sword up by it's cold, steel hilt. He noticed some cryptic rune carved deep into the blade of the sword whose meanings were probably far beyond anything he'd ever known.

Just as he had gotten a balanced between the sword and his body, he noticed two figures coming his way. One was a boy about the same age as him, but the other wasn't human at all. Perhaps... some kind of werewolf?