Chapter One: Return

Weakness. It keeps you from achieving the dreams you want. Your friends look at you differently for it. You’ll try and try as many times as you want, but in the end there will always be your weaknesses, nagging at your back like an unwanted shadow.

All my life, I’ve lived my life in a world where to be weak is to be shunned by everyone else. Unlike the other werewolves at the village who were adept at fighting, my skills and interests were more directed towards knowledge. I was known as the weakest werewolf in Firene, a fact that didn’t really help when I asked to follow Cliffe Ithlas the day he left Firene.

The day Cliffe and Dias left, there a huge uproar in the village. With Firon dead, murdered by Zein Hasker, a new leader had to be chosen. And there was the matter of avenging his death. A small party of werewolves left the village to track Zein down, though after a few weeks, they’d had to give up altogether. Also there was the question of who would keep the local Hell Hole in check.

My father, Firon was gifted. He was a Shifter, a werewolf with the ability to communicate with spirits. In my world, Shifters keep the balance in check by making sure that the local Hell Hole didn’t get too active. With Firon gone, there was only one Shifter left in the village.

Me.

And suddenly, from being the most ignored person in the village, I was suddenly the one they had to turn to.

It was the first major responsibility that I’d ever faced. But little did I know that all of that was just the beginning. Soon I’d be facing more responsibilities, more troubles, on a long journey that would eventually lead me back to Cliffe, and further on for me to learn for myself that true strength lies in many forms.

My name is Olren Thorne. This is my story.

The scent of smoke and blood tainted the air like a lingering, dark curse. Olren and the rest of the werewolves could only stare in horror at the sight that awaited them on that dark morning.

Before them, what was once a small, peaceful human village was now a scene of death. Some of the wooden houses were still on fire. Others were burnt down completely. Bloodied corpses littered the streets. Some lay beside useless, bloodstained makeshift weapons like pitchforks and kitchen knives, evidence on how the struggle of the human villagers had been in vain.

And amongst the dead humans, there were also a few dead Seriths, Arachs and other types of monstrosities that had undoubtedly come from the local Hell Hole.

“ Ironic,” Olren whispered to himself. “ We’d normally wish for this kind of thing to happen, every time they send a werewolf hunter after us or kill one of our kind. But now that it’s happened…”

None of the werewolves looked the least bit happy. Though they hated the humans, the complete destruction of the human settlement would bring the dark possibility that they would probably be next.

“ Olren!” one of the werewolves shouted suddenly. “ You were supposed to keep the Hell Hole suppressed. The only way that this kind of thing could have happened would be if you hadn’t been doing your job!”

Olren turned around to meet the accusing stares of the rest of his kind.

“ But I have! I just went yesterday for Gaia’s sake!” he exclaimed.

Ketal Mortas, his uncle and the current village chief stepped between Olren and the angry werewolves. Ever since his father’s death and Cliffe’s departure, he’d been the only person who he could talk to.

“ The boy is trying his best,” Ketal growled, shifting into werewolf form. “ It is unfair for any of you to blame him for what’s happened here. I was with him yesterday, and I saw him. He did what he was supposed to do. What happened here today wasn’t merely the matter of an active Hell Hole.”

He walked over to the corpse of a dead Serith.

“ These monsters attacked the village together. Different types of monsters do not work together under natural circumstances, no matter how active the Hell Hole is. I’d say that what happened here was because of a darker, more sinister reason.”

“ So what are we supposed to do now?” one of the werewolves asked loudly. “ We could be next.”

Ketal drew his sword.

“ We’re not as weak as humans,” he said loudly. “ We will not fall. But I believe that Olren should go to the Hell Hole again. Suppress it again. The less monsters we have to deal with the better.”

Olren nodded slowly. As he turned to walk off, Ketal caught him by the shoulder.

“ Have more sense, boy,” he said slowly. “ After what happened here I’d be stupid to let you go alone.”

Baxter Alioras looked over the edge of the waterfall, looking down all the way to the rocks and the long river below. Behind him, the sound of Cara’s sobs echoed through the otherwise silent night. What was he looking for, anyway? A dead body? Or possibly some hope that Cliffe Ithlas had somehow survived the fall? Looking down only killed any hope that he’d had of the boy’s survival.

Nothing could survive such a fall.

He turned around to face the rest of his group, all of whom were wearing weary and defeated looks. Bal sat the furthest away from the rest of them. There was a distant look in his eyes. They were clouded by guilt, and the fact that he knew that he was to blame for what had happened.

“ He’s dead, Bax,” Bal said slowly. “ There is nothing left to look for.”

“ Liar.”

All eyes fell on Cara. The mage was now pacing up and down, clenching her fists tightly. Smoke was beginning to waft out from her closed fists.

“ Do I have any reason to lie, Cara?” Bal asked slowly. The werewolf got up on his feet and turned to face her.

Silence.

The cold, dark, bitterness in Cara’s eyes was almost crushing. Bal found it hard to meet her eyes. She blamed him for what had happened. That much was obvious.

Suddenly, she fell to her knees. Bax immediately ran over to help her stand.

“ Liar,” Cara repeated, no longer sounding sure of herself. Oh, how she wished that Bal were lying! The bloodstains on the ground, the loud growls and the sound of clashing metal that they’d heard earlier before they’d rushed here to see what had happened…she wished all of this to be a nightmare. A false reality conjured up by her worst fears.

Yet, how could she doubt it? There was an emptiness inside of her now, one she could not explain. One that told her that it was true- Cliffe was dead. Bal couldn’t have frozen himself, so the possibility of him murdering Cliffe was ruled out. And Cliffe wasn’t capable of casting anything that powerful, so Cliffe couldn’t have cast the spell while caught in a fight.

Cliffe was dead.

Her heart told her so. And the looks on everyone’s faces told her so.

“ What happens now?” Varen asked suddenly.

Silence.

No one had stopped to consider that before. What left was there for them now? Now that Cliffe was gone what role was left for them to play? None of them had expected Cliffe’s death. Only a while ago, they had been invincible. They’d beaten two Guardians and were well on their way to beat the third.

Now that false illusion was shattered, and here they were, mortals again.

“ It’s over, isn’t it?” Varen asked. “ I mean…no Cliffe, no Hell’s Blade, right?”

“ Not for us, you mean,” Bax stated. “ They still have Kyle.”

“ They don’t have the map,” Ashton reminded him.

All eyes were on Ashton now. The young mage was now holding out the Guardian Map. The map that Kyle had supposedly come looking for- the map, which Kyle now believed to be lost with Cliffe over the waterfall.

“ They think it’s gone,” Kit pointed out. “ So they’re not going to come looking for it, right?”

“ They might come looking for us,” Ashton replied sharply. “ They might stop to consider that we’re the only people left who know.”

“ Then why didn’t he just come for us right after he’d disposed of Cliffe?” Bax asked.

“ Kyle was alone,” Bal replied. “ As powerful as he was, I doubt that he’d last long against four people attacking him at once. In fact, I reckon that he sensed you coming when I tried to fight him. Or else he’d probably had taken me prisoner.”

“ Are you sure that’s why he didn’t do that?” Cara asked loudly. The coldness in her eyes hadn’t changed one bit. “ I mean, what if you were both in league the whole time?”

And suddenly, Bal started snarling with rage as he advanced on Cara.

Cara didn’t look the least bit afraid. She conjured up a fireball and held it out in front of her, daring the werewolf to take another step forward.

“ You bitch!” Bal snarled. “ Are you suggesting that I’m a traitor?”

“ It’s possible,” Cara replied coolly. “ You were once a Blood Talon, right? Mercenaries can all be bought.”

And that was as much as Bal could take. He drew his halberd and pointed it towards Cara.

Bax stepped forward now, stepping in between Cara and him.

“ You’ll have to deal with me before you lay a hand on her,” Bax announced, his eyes glowing with an ominous red light.

“ STOP IT!”

There was a look of pure fury on Ashton’s face. A look that startled everyone enough to get them to shut up. Ashton was normally the most levelheaded one among them all. Now even he seemed at breaking point.

“ We have lost Cliffe Ithlas, but is that reason enough for us to be at each others’ throats?” he shouted angrily. “ Think of what you’re doing now. What good will it bring? Cliffe is gone and he’s not coming back!”

Silence.

Bal stepped back, lowering his weapon. Still the look of fury in his eyes stayed. Slowly, he turned away.

“ I’ve had enough,” he said. “ I’m going to Alunze. I don’t know what Kyle is up to, but rather than waste my time with people who won’t even trust me, I might as well do everything I can to stop him.”

He gave one last look over his shoulder, towards Cara and Bax.

“ He wants to start a war. And Gaia help me, if humans are all like you, then he’s not going to have any problems in achieving his goal.”

Kit stood up quickly. “ Hey, wait-

But Bal had disappeared, running off silently into the darkness of the forest.

The Firene Hell Hole was a large orb of crackling black energy, located in the heart of the forest, hovering low above a huge lake. Normally, it’d be as big as a small hut.

Now it was as big as Firene Village itself, covering the entire lake.

The crackling black thunder surrounding it was now glowing more ominously than Olren remembered. It struck the banks of the lake chaotically; leaving black marks everywhere it touched the ground.

And in certain places, it left behind monsters that shimmered into existence.

From the cover of the bushes, Olren and a group of about twenty other werewolves watched as two newly formed Seriths and one huge, ape-like creature dashed off into the forest.

“ It wasn’t this bad yesterday,” Ketal said darkly. “ How could it change in such a manner over such a short period of time?”

“ Let’s just be thankful that the monsters aren’t all bunched up here,” another werewolf said.

Ketal nodded slowly. “ Olren, start calling the spirits. We’ll hold the monsters off. If we finish this quickly, we’ll be able to get away before our presence here draws the attention of the other monsters.”

“ Right.” Olren stood up slowly and began walking out of the bushes towards the lake.

‘ Here goes.’

The rest of the werewolves followed him, forming a circle around him as he proceeded closer towards the Hell Hole.

A Serith came charging towards them. Following behind it was a whole pack of about six others. From another side, a group of large spider-like monsters called Arachs were also coming towards them.

“ Here they come!” Ketal shouted. “ Olren, hurry!”

The werewolves all drew their weapons, prepared to fight.

“ Spirits!” Olren muttered under his breath. The sound of crackling energy from the Hell Hole drowned out the sound completely.

But the spirits heard him, and that was enough.

He felt them come.

The spirits from the dark-shrouded lake, the spirits from the trees, from all Life in the forest, the spirits roaming the wind, the ones that lay beneath his feet under the soft soil, they all came to him, looking like glowing orbs of white energy swirling around him in a dazzling display of light.

Immediately the scene of the fighting werewolves around him disappeared, and Olren was alone with the spirits of Nature. The ones that would help him suppress the Hell Hole.

“ Child of Gaia, we answer your call,” a sourceless voice echoed in Olren’s ears.

“ Aid me,” Olren said firmly. “ Brothers, I need your help now more than ever. Quell this growing darkness! It comes now more powerful than before, and it threatens all that lives in these woods! Help me hold it back! Help me as you once helped my father!”

“ We cannot.”

Olren’s eyes widened.

“ What?!” he gasped. This hadn’t happened before.

“ You are unworthy, Child of Gaia, as noble as your intentions are. In your heart lies your greatest weakness, one that holds us back. We cannot conquer this darkness without a strong heart to channel our energies.”

“ The darkness is growing stronger, Olren Thorne. Your heart grows weaker.”

Olren found himself bursting into werewolf form, roaring with frustration. Instantly, the spirits flowed away from him, returning him back to the midst of the battle before the Hell Hole.

More monsters were coming towards them from all directions. And as powerful as the werewolves were, Olren could see that they were beginning to tire.

They were surrounded now.

“ Unworthy.”

The words echoed in Olren’s head. He found himself sinking back, shifting into human form.

“ Olren!” Ketal shouted. “ Olren!”

There was no escape. They were all going to die.

“ What’s the point in fighting?” Olren whispered to himself. “ I won’t achieve anything…”

The werewolf clenched his fists tightly, struggling to withstand the tidal wave of feelings surging in his heart.

Despair

Sadness.

Disappointment.

Fury.

One of the werewolves fell lifeless to the ground before his eyes. The numbness within him grew.

He was to blame.

And now all he could do was wait for his end.

But his end was still far away.

The monsters stopped and turned to see a single ball of electricity float towards them, glowing purple and white. The wind was beginning to blow harder, swirling around it, picking up dead leaves as it coursed upwards.

Then, boom.

Nothing could have prepared Olren for what he saw on that day. The ball of electricity exploded suddenly, expanding into a cylindrical spike of energy, spinning around with the tornado coil around it.

The monsters beneath it were the first to be incinerated, engulfed completely by the electric spike.

And then there was a loud hissing sound as it expanded like a large dome, engulfing even more monsters. Olren could almost hear the sound of them being burnt to a crisp, could almost hear them scream.

The rest of the monsters got the picture and started off back into the forest as fast as their legs could carry them.

When the electric dome dissolved, all that was left was a deep, black crater.

The werewolves stared at the crater with looks of disbelief, and awe.

“ Sweet Gaia,” one of them gasped. “ What the hell just happened?”

“ A spell,” came a sudden reply.

They turned around to see a lone figure in a black cloak come out of the forest, walking towards them with a wide smile on his face.

Olren’s eyes widened with surprise when he saw who it was.

“ Dias?”

“ Bloody hell.”

The house was empty. Not even Zan was here to give them any more pointers. Draken kicked aside one of the chairs at the dining table with frustration.

“ Damn it!” he shouted.

“ Seriously, I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” Garr stated coolly. “ I mean, sure we lost and Zein left us behind. But he left us our money. So we sorta lose nothing, right?”

“ The problem is,” Draken hissed. “ That Cliffe Ithlas is alive. I don’t know what insanity drove Zein to leave us our money, but we sure as hell didn’t earn it. No one makes a fool out of us. I’m not letting Cliffe get away so easily.”

“ So it’s a matter of honor now?” Lyss offered.

“ Exactly,” Draken replied.

“ You’re lying,” Garr retorted. “ It’s personal. The only reason you’re after Cliffe now is because he’s dragged Bal along on his crazy quest.”

Draken’s eyes narrowed.

“ Cliffe is using him. And if he’s stupid enough to not see that, that’s his own fault. Personally I don’t care about Bal anymore.”

And Draken stormed out of the house.

Lyss looked at Garr exasperatedly and said, “ He never was a good liar.”

And at the riverbank, at the bottom of Auros Falls, a werewolf lay in a state between life and death, helpless under the moonlight.

There was a glowing sword stuck in his chest, rising up and down with the werewolf’s chest as the werewolf’s breathing began to weaken.

And then, he stopped breathing altogether.