Page 2 of Magic & Secrets
The war lasted less than six months. Thousands of humans died at the base of Mt. Elysium. The Elves could have waited out a million humans, using the mountain’s brutal environment to their advantage.
As the war dragged on, the Murade feared more uprisings throughout the Territories. The Digne Vampyres had stopped fighting each other long enough to convene a meeting over joining forces to fight the humans. Ten dozen Shifter packs across four Territories joined together for a summit on their future.
Fearing they were on the cusp of losing power, the Murade ordered their planes to drop a toxic cargo over Mt. Elysium. The poison destroyed all it touched. If the Murade couldn’t claim this mountain, no one would have it.
Even defeated, the Jaala refused to flee. Huddled together in their main enclave, they summoned the last magic in their bodies from the eldest to the newborns to place a curse on this mountain. If the Elves were deprived of their home, they would ensure no member of humanity could ever set foot on it, either.
Their poison and magic from that day left a scar across Mt. Elysium. The surviving wildlife became malformed and diseased. No tribe of man or magic folk could call this place home except the Bane Shifters.
The Elves died before I was old enough for battle, yet I still felt their magic nipping at my flesh from time to time. Traveling through the woods, I’d sensed the echoes of the Tribe crying out for vengeance.
Magic couldn’t truly die, but the Murade never admitted this fact during our training. They treated magic like a parlor trick or the temporary effects of a powerful drug: something that could be eliminated. In truth, magic could only change forms.
Many millennia ago, an ancient beast called this mountain its home. Like the other old ones, it was believed to be dead. Yet, as I hid in the cave, I could feel the low humming of its magic reacting to the fierce storm outside.
The fog rolling across Mt. Elysium made my snout twitch, forcing me to hide my face under my heavy limbs to block outthe stink. The cave rumbled around me, buzzing in a way that proved both alluring and heinous.
I envisioned a monstrous entity with no eyes, yet it could see. The creature had no mouth, yet devoured many. The horrific beauty of this ancient one had once brought humans to tears. They wept as their blood was spilt in sacrifice.
For many millennia, the Murade’s official view on the ancient gods was that they were mere myth. They denied how the old ones continued to transform Lavinia to their liking.
Back at the arctic base, our commanders admitted the truth. The more magic that was allowed to fester in the world, the hungrier the ancient ones would become.
“Annihilation of the magic folk is the only salvation offered to the world,” was drilled into our heads since we were younglings.
Even with the Bane Shifters at their disposal, the Murade could never wipe out their enemies. New ones were continuously born to humans. The Jaala Elven Tribe had originally been human. The renegade humans were driven into Pandorium Forest, where they survived the brutal environment long enough for the magic to twist their bodies and minds.
As long as humans and the ancient ones existed, magic folk would rise.
Those issues were no longer my concern. My kind had retired after the “Last War.” These days, we lived in the polluted lands left behind by another “Last War.”
As the humming continued, I grew concerned the cave was the ancient one’s mouth and I’d find myself devoured. Moving closer to the cave entrance, I let my mind wander to my recent dreams. Increasingly, I found myself seeing through the eyes of a female. Her world made no sense to me. I couldn’t register the faces she saw. She often spoke in a language I didn’t understand. Despite the chaotic nature of the dreams, I found them comforting and hoped to feel her again whenever I slumbered.
As my mind lingered on the mysterious female, the storm began to quiet. The sky still rumbled, and heavy drops of burning rain splattered around me. Under the foul scent of fading magic was another more familiar aroma.
I moved warily down the mountain. Though sensing eyes upon me, I hadn’t seen another member of my pack in days. We weren’t social creatures. The mountain’s size allowed us plenty of solitude.
Once below the rocky peak, I moved with more purpose. My wide paws easily traversed the rough terrain. The fading magic allowed me to track the scent of carnage. I knew instantly how the blood belonged to my kind.
Halfway down the mountain, I heard the distinct roar of my pack leader. Tempe’s anguished cries echoed through the dense forest. I triangulated his calls to the base of the mountain.
Haven Junction was built during our first months at the mountain. Thirty cottages surrounded a common area with a store, pub, and meeting area. The place often smelled of cooking meat. Today, I only smelled death.
Racing down the mountain, I leapt over fallen trees and ducked under dense thickets. Several times, I simply smashed through whatever was in my way.
Tempe’s roar grew louder and more frenzied as I approached Haven Junction. His weren’t the calls of a beast readying for battle. Tempe’s roar was one of rage and grief.
Shifting into human form, I found Tempe standing amid the mauled bodies. He was over seven feet, wide-shouldered, and thickly muscled. His inky black hair and beard were overgrown. He stared in horror at our fallen friends and cried out to the sky for guidance.
A heavy bead of rain plopped on my head, waking me from my revulsion. I stalked across the ruined square, where the townsfolk had waged a valiant effort against their attackers.They were outmatched by whoever came to this place with violent intent.
“They barely had time to sound the alarm before it was over,” Tempe growled as I returned to his side. “There are no survivors.”
Fighting the urge to change, Tempe lifted his jaw and grunted at Koda, who appeared from the forest. The Shifter morphed from his gray wolf form and stood near the massacre. His flaxen hair fell over his eyes and masked his scowl. Unlike our pack leader, Koda exuded a quiet aura despite the carnage at our feet.
“Do you smell it?” growled an arriving Delta, sounding more beast than man as he began circling the terrain. Nearby, he hunched close to the ground and inhaled deeply. His golden eyes were mostly hidden by sooty black hair.
“I smell Shifters,” Delta rumbled. “Lions and wolves. They weren’t alone.”
