Exactly when our female familiars came into existence I cannot say. It occurred a short time after the first battle with the vampires, when the tide seemed to have turned in our favor, and we were suddenly free and powerful men. No doubt their origin was initially the result of overzealous lovemaking, an inattentive nip that broke the skin, thus infecting the unsuspecting woman with the Lycan virus.
For my part I paid little attention to our female counterparts. Their existence was rare, and as they were somewhat superfluous to our race, not being necessary for the perpetuation of the species, I found little use for them. Though fierce fighters, they were smaller and weaker. What we needed were warriors, and men met that condition with zeal and without impediment.
My eyes fell on all women, whether human, Lycan or even vampire, to the same effect.
It is not she.
With single-pointed focus I endeavored to smite my enemy and ensure the survival of my species. I fought and killed vampires, led others to do the same, and planned and plotted strategies that stretched hundreds of years into the future to meet my ends. For centuries, this was my solitary purpose, from which I could not be diverted.
Almost two centuries had passed since the annihilation of my love. During waking hours I battled with the heart of a lion, but when at rest, I began to feel a chill, a creeping uncertainty. My immortal soul had of late felt stretched thin with the solitude that only a true leader and soldier can know. I felt as though I was beginning to be filled with ice. I often fancied in an odd way that I was becoming as cold and hard from my guts to my skin, as my dearest love had been from the outside in. I was possessed with questions. What would the end of this mission bring? What would Lycan victory accomplish? While I found peace in the notion of securing a place in the world for my species, what would become of us after? We were bred for war, and I feared that without the solidarity necessitated during battle, we would dissipate and vanish, that the species would be lost after all.
It was during this period of lonely uncertainty, that I met a most unusual creature.
It was twilight; the sun had been set not yet a half hour, when I heard a ruckus in the camp. This being nothing unusual I was unmoved. The men had a habit of sparring during periods of inactivity, and the war had been at a standstill for weeks. I found their brawls an inefficient use of energy, as I knew well that the enemy could rally at any moment and we might need all of our powers to meet in battle. However I did not find it prudent to smite their whims on such matters. While it was in my nature to be like a tightly wound coil, necessitating not the slightest movement before striking out in battle, I knew it was not so for many of my kind. They needed to stay in the fray in order to keep their edge, and I would not deny them their requirement.
This scuffle was particularly boisterous, and I more than once heard a peculiar earsplitting snarl, unlike any Lycan sound I'd yet heard. I was curious, so I endeavored to see what was about. The men surrounding "the pit" as they referred to it gave me a wide berth as I entered, looks of concern and embarrassment crossing their faces. I smiled genially, though I could feel the ice behind my eyes.
Alone among my kinsman.
My presence had not disturbed the fight, and I could see that Raze was one of the participants, but I did not recognize the young Lycan with whom he sparred. Though much smaller than Raze (but then, who wasn't?) this fighter was faster and possessed of a grace and cunning that was unusual for our kind. Instead of resorting to the usual shred and dismember technique so common to the Lycan, this youngster was using Raze's own size and momentum against him. By deflecting the energy from a strike that Raze had leveled at his head, thereby leaving Raze off balance, the unknown Lycan was able to duck and whirl around to Raze's back. When Raze had regained his balance and spun around, he found his attacker in a low crouch, and was unable to regroup before the young Lycan had sprung and closed his jaws around Raze's massive throat.
The crowd broke into frenzy unlike any I'd heard at such an event. It was almost the level at which they rejoiced at the end of a successful battle. I stood there mutely, not really understanding. I knew the esteem with which our brethren held Raze. He was one of our best fighters, so for one to fight him and win would be of some significance. I reminded myself that this was sport for them, a leisure activity that brought them pleasure. I was concentrating on this point when I noticed that the timbre of the crowd's yells turned from excitement to something more sinister. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I turned toward the center of the pit.
Raze had returned to human form, and was on his hands and knees, slowly making as if to get to his feet. I was partially concealed by the crowd, but our eyes met and he gave me the slightest nod to indicate his wellbeing. I looked for the other fighter and was shocked by the scene before me.
The fighter had also resumed human form, but not into the person of a young man as I was expecting, but rather that of a young woman. I watched with rising unease as she walked toward a group of men who were gathered together at one end of the pit. I heard her say in a clear, gritty voice,
"I told you I could whip him. Now I demand my clothes at once."
Her voice was commanding and unwavering, but the men simply laughed and leered at her. She made no move toward them, nor did she try to cover her nudity. She was standing with her back to me, so I was able to see the odd flicker of skin shoot up her spine as her body involuntarily began to change back to Lycan form. She chose to quell that impulse, remaining human as she stood before them.
"We had a deal. I fight Raze. I beat Raze. I get my things back. I thought we had an understanding. But apparently you animals are unaccustomed to the concept of an agreement."
"Oh we'll honor the agreement," taunted a man I took to be the ringleader. "But you're going to have to win it back a piece at a time." He smiled at her hollowly. "Do you want to start with what we originally took from you," he asked, indicating a small chest at his feet, "or do you want an item of clothing?" He held up an undergarment and waved it around to the crowd, eliciting a low heckle.
I stepped into the pit and all fell silent. I looked at the ringleader whose acerbic smile froze on his lips.
"I'm confused," I mused, my tone light. "I thought that 'to the victor, go the spoils' was a fairly obvious concept." I stood still, my hands folded behind my back, and my eyebrows raised in question. No one moved. I took a few steps closer to the small group of perpetrators and their detainee, noting with distain that a number of my kinsmen were slinking off into the shadows as I passed. The men looked nervous, the woman, merely poised. I took little note of them. I only had eyes for the ringleader.
"What is your name?" I asked quietly.
After a pause, he half choked out his name.
"Killian."
"Where did you come from Killian?" My voice maintained it evenness.
"I came into the fold a few months ago," he said nervously, "after Bourne."
"Ah," I said simply. I walked up to Killian and took my measure of the man. Weak. Indolent. Spineless. Without breaking eye contact I reached into his hands and took the woman's clothing, which he relinquished without resistance.
"Do you know what happens to Lycans who are cut off from the pack?" I asked, never letting my eyes leave his eyes, which grew distinctly wider at my question. He did not answer.
"You're new, so I'll tell you," I stated, my voice like flint. "If we turn you out during the day, you have roughly twelve hours to consider your options, which are limited to say the least. I imagine it would be prudent to run as fast as you could toward the west and chase the setting sun. If we banish you at night, they will eat you before you are but a mile outside of our territory."
Killian was visibly shaking. I allowed a full minute to pass before speaking again.
"Do we understand each other?"
"Yes," he choked.
"Then get out of my sight," my voice was low, like a growl. "And if I hear but a whisper of this kind of behavior again, all of you will be out."
The men hurried away. The crowd had likewise dissipated. I turned to the woman, holding her clothes out in front of me, my eyes averted. I felt her take the clothes from my hands, and then, nothing…
In truth I expected her to thank me. But she said nothing, nor did she move, not even to dress. She was as silent as a grave and I could feel her eyes on my face. I had not expected to have to interact with her beyond what I had already done. I felt uneasy, as if I was being forced into something for which I was unprepared.
I have not spoken to a woman since…
"Why won't you look at me?" she asked, her voice mild, betraying nothing more than curiosity.
It took me a moment to think through the question.
Because the only woman at whom I'd ever wanted to look had also been forbidden for my eyes.
Because the last time I saw that woman's face it was turned to ashes.
Because hers is the only female face that I ever want to see again.
I felt the weight of my immortality as I raised my eyes to hers.
Nothing can be put off forever.
