FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

2nd Day of Ignis

128 I.E.

The sounds of battle still echoed across the plains, and Dane watched as he tried to stagger back into the fight. He already saw several of the bandits retreating when they noticed that their boss had fallen, but some still remained, fighting and killing with a crazed look in their eyes that suggested to Dane they were more than mere bandits.

Feeling weak and unable to hold himself up any longer, Dane dropped to his knees as he attempted to stem the flow of blood from his arm. Try as he might, he couldn't get enough pressure on the wound on his own. He felt light as a feather, and pondered whether the next breeze might carry him away as he lowered towards the ground.

"Lieutenant!"

Dane couldn't be certain who was calling for him, but he felt so far away now. It was like floating on a cloud, high in the sky where the air was thin. It became more difficult to catch is breath.

"Don't you die on us!"

Someone flung him over, and through bleary eyes, Dane could see the puffy clouds in the blue sky above him, and his hand came up as he reached towards it.

Who is moving my arm?

"Keep your arm above your heart."

Silhouetted by the noon day sun, all he could make out of the person kneeling over him was their dark skin. He seemed to be fiddling with something on his pants with one hand while holding Dane's arm up with the other. Where had he met this dark-skinned man? He'd never been to Carsid.

"You'd think they'd have taught basic field medicine in the academy but no... just have to teach kids how to throw Gods-damned fire from their hands like they jumped out of a storybook."

"L-locke?" Dane rasped.

"Keep your eyes open!" Locke snapped. "Hold your arm up for about five seconds. Do it or you die!"

Dane did the best he could, holding his arm out towards the sky. Locke wrapped his belt around his arm, inches above the cut, and looped it through the strap. With a single, fierce tug of the leather, he cinched the belt tight. Dane couldn't feel it, but judging by the way his skin turned color around it, Locke had likely made the belt as tight as he possibly could.

"Hold still. We need to keep this here until your artery clots. That bastard cut you up good. Keep your arm still!" Locke shouted, grabbing Dane's hand by the wrist and holding it up. "We need to get you back to Sylvie so she can fix you up proper."

With a shuddering sigh, Dane's eyelids closed as they grew heavier. "Yeah..." he agreed in a whisper. A nap would be good.

A hand slapped him in the face, and like a bucket of cold water, his eyes popped back open.

"Don't go to sleep! Stay awake!" Locke yelled. His gaze was trained on the wound in Dane's arm, but he was also watching the area to make sure that the bandits were occupied. "Hold still." He produced a knife from his leg sheath and quickly went to work slicing the lower leg of Dane's pants off, then tore it into strips. "This is going to make the worst bandage ever but it'll have to do..."

Using the strips of cloth, Locke began to bandage over the cut to. The flow of blood had slowed, but not enough. Dane's arm felt cold, but maybe it was the belt tied around his limb that was doing it.

"Did we win?" Dane asked.

"See for yourself." Locke said, tying the bandage off.

As he laid on the ground, Dane looked around and surveyed their losses. Scout Willard had fallen in combat, and he felt a pang of remorse. He didn't know the man that well, but he was a good soldier and never questioned his orders. Private Surrel was severely injure, holding a hand to a limp arm. He had cuts along his leg, causing him to limp as he moved. Most of the rest of Dane's men had escaped serious harm.

Dane reached for his sword but Locke stopped him. "Don't be an idiot. You shouldn't move with that wound."

"But the others--"

"Are fine," Locke finished for him. "Stop squirming and keep your arm elevated, idiot."

Dane blinked a few times, clearing the fog from his eyes. "Don't talk to me like that," he muttered, but his words lacked conviction.

Locke scoffed at him. "Like you care, sir." He smirked at him. "I'm just repaying the favor from Northpine. Now shut up and rest, then we'll get you back to the wagon." He turned his attention at the other soldiers mopping up the bandits. "What could you do in your state, anyways? Bleed on them?" Locke grinned. "Just relax. No point in having soldiers if you don't think they can handle themselves in battle."

Laying his head back down, Dane sighed, muttering his thanks to the other man.

After waiting a few minutes more, until Locke was sure the bleeding had stopped, he helped Dane to his feet as slowly as they could manage. Dane's head lolled to the side and he felt like throwing up, but after staying upright for a moment it seemed to pass though he still felt dizzy. He slung his good arm over Locke's shoulder and together they staggered back to the wagon to get out of harm's way. His body felt like it was about to give out beneath him as his wounds burned. He drew in ragged breaths, trying to ignore the feeling of the world spinning around him.

Guess I don't get to join you just yet, Aiden...

Through the pain, Dane felt a strange sort of tickling in the back of his mind, telling him that something was wrong. He was trying to figure it out, but there was no clear explanation for what it was. He wondered if there were more bandits cloaked nearby behind an invisibility spell, but he couldn't recall the words to a scrying spell to check for sure.

When only one bandit was remaining, Elizabeth and the others rushed to restrain him. "Take him for interrogation," she said between gasps for breath.

Over the groans of the wounded and dying, a loud snarl rang out across the plains, snapping all the surviving soldiers to look over at Oni's body. The severed head turned to ash and crumpled as the body began to rise from the ground. There were shocked gasps from Dane's men as a growth began to expand from where Oni's neck had been. Slowly, the lump began to take the form of a new head. His eyes popped out from two slits that cut into his face. Hair bloomed from his skull as skin regrew over muscles and bones.

When Oni spoke, his voice was gurgling, as if he had a mouth full of blood. "Did you really believe it would be that easy to get away from me?"

"Lieutenant...?" Vedray said as she backed away, looking to him for direction.

"What's happening to him?" Roweon asked.

"I... I don't know..." Dane could only stare as Oni's form began to change and bubble.

Oni's arms grew thicker, shredding all his clothing save for the bloodied cloak draped over his shoulders. He dropped to his hands and knees, snarling as lines of spit hung from between sharp teeth. His face began to extend to form a muzzle, and his skin began to turn black.

_No, this can't be real. Werewolves are just stories!_Dane thought as he realized that Oni was sprouting fur and a tail began to form from the bottom of his spine. His arm shook, out of fear and loss of blood. He needed to grab his sword but he couldn't grip the leather wrapped handle. His body wouldn't respond.

Locke eased him up against the wagon. "Hold still and stay there." He patted Dane on the shoulder. "Hold the arm up. We'll take care of this." He drew Dane's sword from the sheath and held a dagger in his other hand. Dane could hear the man swallow audibly as he moved to stand by Elizabeth and the others.

The bandit slammed his palms on the ground as great claws began to form from his nails. His eyes glowed with an unearthly metal color as he looked up and scanned the soldiers standing before him, sizing them up to determine who was the weakest of the lot. He locked his gaze on Dane, baring his fangs at him which sent a chill of dread down his spine.

Where once there had been a gaunt, agile man now stood a lumbering beast. Fur rippled as the muscles beneath flexed and moved with even the most subtle of movements. Oni's metallic eyes continued to watch the soldiers before him, moving first from Dane, to Elizabeth, to the others.

They're just a legend! Dane thought, fighting to hold himself up against the wagon. Even the Academy records them as nothing more than folklore. They don't exist. They're not supposed to exist!

Yet no matter how much Dane tried to deny it, it was impossible to dispel the reality before him. The werewolf stalked slowly, still evaluating things. Oni was fast as a human. How much quicker would he be with his new lupine form? Dane's eyes caught the glint of light on the ebony claws that punctured the ground with every step the beast took.

"Lieutenant, your orders?" Elizabeth shouted in a shrill, panicked voice. She stared with eyes wide as saucers. The loss of her usually calm demeanor shattered what little morale the troops had left.

Dane couldn't move, and words would not come to him. He could only stare, transfixed by the horrible sight before him. His mouth felt dry, full of cotton, and he couldn't seem to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Lieutenant, if we don't do something, he will overtake us. What are your orders?"

"Run!" Dane shouted. He tried to stand, but pain flared up in his side and he screamed as he fell down.

"Yes, run!" Oni mocked. "Make this interesting for me." The werewolf dropped to all fours and charged at them. His claws flashed out in a black blur as they sliced through Surrel's armor as he charged at them. His hands went partially into his stomach and his muzzle shot up to grip the man's throat as he tore it out. He swallowed it as he let the body slump to the ground.

By the time Dane had risen to his feet, Oni had ripped apart another of his soldiers, pulling out the man's entrails through a piece of shredded armor. With no spells at his beck and call, Dane felt helpless and unable to protect his men.

A few of Dane's men dropped their weapons and screamed as they turned to run. Oni ran past the wagon to chase after them.

"No!" Dane shouted. "Leave them be!"

After the werewolf tore apart the fleeing soldiers, he snarled and turned back to look at Dane. Suddenly, he was all too aware of how the bandit had been able to operate the way he had been. A single werewolf could decimate a fleet of caravans if he wanted. It was little wonder why the few survivors who made it back to Sanctuary were so broken and terrified. Who could believe that a creature of myth was the one responsible for disrupting trade routes and killing so many people?

Dane feared that the answers he had found would end up costing him his life. He stumbled over to stand between the werewolf and his remaining soldiers, but Roweon stepped up and held a sword with both hands, his grip shaky and faltering.

"Get out of my way!" Oni howled as he rushed at them. He maneuvered to rip Roweon's head from his shoulders, but before he could strike, a portal opened up behind him. The werewolf became suspended in mid-air as though frozen in time, unable to follow through with his attack.

<Enough, Oni Swiftclaw.>

Dane looked around, searching for where the voice could have come from. It sounded like a woman, and it seemed to be coming from his mind. Had he imagined it? There was no one around except for the few remaining soldiers and the werewolf.

<You've let them know too much.>

Without giving the werewolf a chance to respond, he was hurled into the portal and the rift sealed itself before Dane could figure out where the portal led to.

Silence hung over the plains, save for the sound of wind rushing through the tall grass.

"What was that?" Vedray asked. She dropped to her knees and lost the grip on her sword as she continued to struggle to regain her composure.

Dane didn't have an answer for her and he began to lose consciousness. He could scarcely remember people shouting his name before he succumbed to the darkness.

* * * * *

Dane awoke some time later, laying up in a bed and looking up at a stone ceiling. He slowly turned his head to look around, and even through blurry, half-awake eyes, he could tell he was in the infirmary on base. His arm was bandaged up and was suspended up above the bed, keeping the injury above his heart.

The healers must've sedated me pretty good, he thought, realizing that he wasn't in any excruciating pain.

"Good, you're awake, Lieutenant," someone said, and Dane turned to see the squad's healer, Sylvie Pann, standing next to him.

Dane held his head with his good hand as he sat up. "How long was I out?"

"Three or four days.It's almost supper time." Sylvie answered, "I'm surprised you weren't unconscious longer. Your injuries were quite severe, I did the best I could but it took too long for them to get you back here and I couldn't do much more than heal over the scabs. Locke left the tourniquet on a bit too long, so you're fortunate you didn't lose your arm." She worked to apply some fresh bandages, and said, "You're going to have to leave your arm in a sling for a while to keep it from moving until it scars over."

"Could be worse," Dane told her.

"That it could've been. Sergeant-Major Vedray wanted to speak to you once you were awake. Should I send her in?"

"Yes. I'd rather sleep but I imagine the Sergeant has something important to share with me."

"Hang on, I'll go get her."

Sylvie went off to get Elizabeth, and returned after a moment with the Sergeant in tow. The healer began to question Dane how he felt and whether he felt any pain in his arm or chest as Elizabeth spoke.

"The operation was a success sir."

"A success? We lost eight men," Dane said. He hated to lose even one soldier, let alone eight of them. He felt like he had failed to protect those under his command.

"Eight men is a small price to pay for the countless civilians we may have saved," Elizabeth said.

"Personally, I don't see it that way. Dead thieves don't matter to anyone, but a dead soldier still leaves behind a grieving family." He tried to prop himself up on the pillow, but laid back down when he felt dizzy. "At any rate, have you had any luck getting information out of our captive?"

"Nothing yet sir. We've got him locked up in adjacent cells with the rioter from earlier in the week, and they've been giving each other strange looks since we threw him in there. Perhaps you'd like to attempt to interrogate them?"

Dane nodded, then tried to get up again, more slowly this time. Sylvie pressed a hand to his upper chest and held him down. "No sir, you're not going anywhere. Give it a day or two and then I'll release you once I'm sure you won't do something stupid to exacerbate your wounds."

Grumbling, Dane laid back down. "Fine, I'll rest for a bit. You're dismissed Sergeant. I'll come see the captive once I'm free."

"Alright. And sir, about that... person...?"

"I'd rather not think about it right now, Sergeant. It's too much to be concerned about right now. And frankly, I think we'd just be burning ourselves out trying to understand what really happened."

"I just wanted to know, what was he?"

"He's a werewolf. They're nothing more than the stuff of stories in the magic community. Or at least, I thought they were only stories. I guess they're true. It's unnerving to think that they actually exist." He looked up at her, matching her gaze. "I don't know what saved us, but even I don't know what happened. The portal was sealed too quickly and I have no idea who that voice belonged to."

"But, his head just regrew on his shoulders. That shouldn't be possible. Not even healing magics could do that."

"The stories I read always said that there was only one thing that can kill a werewolf: silver," Dane explained. "They have incredible regeneration otherwise. Though frankly, I don't know if I would believe that whole 'silver' thing either."

"But, what about--"

"Sergeant," Dane said firmly, cutting her off, "the bottom line is that we got lucky. I'd hate to think why." He sighed, then said, "Is that all?"

"That's everything, sir." She paused, thinking about something, and then added, "I guess we don't always make our own luck, huh?"

Dane shrugged. "I suppose not. I'm glad I kept my good luck charm with me," he said, lightly touching the stone beneath his tunic.

Elizabeth nodded her head in agreement then saluted. She quickly left so that Dane could rest and recuperate.