The Blue Werewolf

Part III: Spellsinger

©/By: Kenjaje

Chapter 1: Empty Night

October 29th 9:40 PM

A cloudy sky caste in waves of silver from the light of the gibbous moon; the calming whisper of the autumn winds gossiping with the trees; twin torches blazed, set upon high poles, allowing light to roam the land and shadows to skulk the grass. The time was ripe for Halloween.

"Boring…" A girl, clothed in red, muttered as she shifted her weight to swing the hammock left.

"Halloween," asked her friend, countering to sway the right.

"Yeah," she sighed; to the left.

"But this year, party! And luau," her friend's blue arms reached to the air, and he forgot to swing right.

"Well yeah, the party at the dance school will be fun," she adjusted, to swing left again, "but it's…just boring, now that—well…" The hammock stilled and she looked to her friend.

"Miga glad," he replied.

"I understand," she said with a smile, "No more curse; no more chance of it being permanent." He nodded, stretching.

"Takka ju," he commented.

"It wasn't all my doing," she said, "I mean, how was I supposed to know I was the True Hearted?" She stared up into the sky. "I still don't know what that means…"

"Too late," he bounced, rising to a more relaxing part of the hammock's curve.

"I know, and he said the book was readable. Yeah right; it's gone back to not having any words at all. Are you sure you aren't just hiding that you can read it?"

"Ih; cannot read. Book blank." She signed, moving up to lie more beside him. She laid her head upon his shoulder, and watched as the silver-crowned clouds marched by and by.

"Have I—" she stopped as a twig broke nearby. She giggled quietly, finding irony in her petty fright. He chuckled too, and nudged her side with his elbow.

"Gaba ju slava?"

"I was gonna say…have I ever annoyed you at all since then—talking about it since it went away?" He was quiet for a moment, and that made her a little anxious. "I mean…I understand if you ever were—I tried not to bring it up every full moon, but sometimes it just—"

He shushed her, moving his arm to lay behind her shoulders. At first she still felt anxious; felt as though she were annoying him now by talking about it. But the comforting arm behind her made it go away.

"Naga," he replied "Not mind at all."

"…I just really miss it." She admitted. "Now more than ever; I've been thinking about it ever since mid-September." He smiled. "I mean—it was cool. As frightening and evil as they were in the movies and that one stupid story we read, you being one among them made it…" She paused, picking her words, "Fun rather than scary. Like I didn't have anything to fear, because whatever else might be out there was just like you—and in a way it was like you were there to protect me from it."

"But…not all good," he pointed out. "Stitch still monster."

"A…monster?" She repeated; "Is…that what you thought of yourself?" He kicked his feet together.

"Lost control…" He said.

"You were knocking me down to protect me from Bo."

"Naga; was going to—" She shushed him.

"No matter what you say, or how many times you say it; I don't believe you ever tried to hurt me." She nudged his side. "Even if you were a mindless zombie, a slow-walking mummy or a blood-sucking vampire, I wouldn't ever accuse you of trying to harm me."

"Already werewolf," her friend replied, hand on her shoulder, "Naga want to be anything else." She laughed and pushed him down.

"Aw c'mon, if you were a vampire you'd be immortal. Or if you were a zombie you could walk around going 'tukka—tukka!' instead of saying 'brains'!" She giggled at her play on his language. His left ear flattened behind his head. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Still, I think it would be cool—but I wouldn't want anything to happen to my best friend." She tousled the fur on his head; he started swatting at her hand.

"Hey, you two rule-breakers!" A voice shouted through the door to the house. "It's ten o'clock—past your bedtimes." The girl huffed.

"If you become a vampire, please turn her into a ghoul."

"I heard that!" The girl shook her head.

"Well, gotta do with the big sister wants. Give you a bath and then go to bed."

"Bath? Oh…okay." He stood up, and just as she realized what he was about to do, she felt the hammock shake as he leapt off, and turn over, tossing her to the ground.

"Hey, get back here!" She rose, and pushed against the hammock; the door slammed. "Great…now I've gotta chase him." She forced the hammock up to get out from under it, and let it fall back; she looked back at the torches. "I have to put those out first, though."

She picked up a candle snuffer at the base of the torches, modified by Jumba with a longer handle so she could lift it high enough to put the flames out. The hammock disappeared into darkness. She placed the snuffer back down, and turned toward the house, when she heard a snap. Chills ran down her spine; she looked behind her into the darkness, but nothing was there. The hammock nudged her; she gasped in surprise.

"Don't be such a wuss," she whispered to herself, and tried to push the hammock away—it felt heavy. "…Stitch?" She asked, her hand tugging on the hammock to try and get it to move. After two tugs, her heart leapt to her throat as the torches blinded her with blue light; she screamed, and bolted for the door without looking back.

"What's up with you?" The older sister asked from the kitchen sink, as the younger one burst through the door and slammed it shut.

"The-the-the torches lit up b-blue!" She stammered; the older sister shut the water off. "Wh-where's Stitch?"

"Hiding from the bath you should have given him earlier—have you gone lo-lo?"

"No, really; the torches outside lit up blue!" She pointed toward the door, "Look for yourself!" The older sister went to the door and peered outside, and then looked at her younger sister.

"Look, I'm tired; I know it's almost Halloween but until then can you please stop imagining things?" She walked back to the sink. The little sister peered out of the doorway. "Now go find Stitch and give him his bath, and then bed." She saw a pair of blue eyes blink into focus in the darkness; she sighed, dismissing it as her imagination, and shut the door.

"All right…"