The dusk scattered across the sky, the clouds laying ripped between the veins of sunlight as the amber glow casted shadows across the brittle winter woods. On its journey it stumbled across the small village with the stone houses and the surrounding farm land, invading every crack and crevice as the sun sank and the moon began its dark invasion.
The village itself was bursting with life, filled with people that held moral values as high as the Gods they believed in. The people were fickle, stubborn and simple minded, set in their ways and determined to continue their way of life through the ages. Secluded by the white striped woods that remained scattered by the thick winter snow blanket, they had only themselves to rely on, and so they had come to create traditions that benefited their people, extracting a customary way of life that forced people to remain within the village. Never allowing them to leave.
But, as in every town, there are those that defy the system and challenge the unbreakable rules of society. There is, and will forever be, poverty, deceit, and secrets that bend around every corner. And in that sense the old village of Cogsend was just as normal as every other community the world harboured with one exception. The secret they held taunted the elders, spread fear through young and old hearts alike, caused wildfires that spread with misery, and in itself remained a shroud of mystery that they themselves had set in place. Trapped by their own insufferable insecure subconscious greed.
It is in this village, and in this era, that our tale begins, and ends, with a common thief, a burning amber sky, and a dying love. For when the sun rises, and the blood runs hot and warm, it is the people that cry to the sky, begging for a resolution as they offer up their tribute. But when the moon falls, and the howls fly free, the wolves descend, and the blood turns cold and crisp, staining the snow.
A wolf, the people know, has no mercy. He is quick. He is cunning. And he is fast. He is determined, and he will hunt until the morning light begins to wake, and even then, the next night, he will begin his hunt again. He is not the King of the jungle. He does not boast his status to his subjects with a roar before he finishes them of with a quick bite. He is the dagger in the night. The unwanted glint in the shadows and the chill in the wind. He is the darkness, and the darkness is him, and through it all sad silver eyes will turn as cold as steel and sink their jaws like the shimmering slick lick of a burning flame.
But of course, there are more dangerous things lurking in the woods than just wolves. In a world of fear, obscurity and madness, the wolves are the last of the worries for the people of Cogsend. But, perhaps, that is a tale for another time. For now, I am going to take you back to a time when the world had yet to feel the warmth of freedom. Back to a time when all people knew was the burden of fright in a world were nightmares were real and love was nothing if not a distant dream. Back to a time when the laws of nature were unbound and uncontrollable.
Welcome, dear reader, to a tale you will not forget.
My revamp for Warrior's Weakness. Hope you all enjoyed the prologue :) Sorry to everyone who reviewed the old version before I took it down. I tried to reply but the site wouldn't let me :(