Fortibus Lupus

Prologue:

I wake in the woods.

Alone. Scared. I look to my surroundings for answers.

Blood. So much blood. It takes a second for my brain to realise, it's MY blood. I'm sitting in the woods at night, in a pool of my own blood.

How did I get here? I strain my memory, but….nothing. I can't remember anything. Not even my own name. Nothing.

I stand slowly, as to not jostle my wound, but for some reason I feel no pain. Upon examining myself, I realise I have no wound. But then, where did all the blood come from? There's no one in sight.

I look at what I'm wearing, and precede to be more confused than ever. Big brown combat boots, black skinny jeans, an emerald tank top, and a brown leather hooded jacket.

It's only then that I see the shiny object just a foot away from me.

A knife.

It's beautifully carved, the gleaming silver handle flashing with swirling night designs, with a wolf howling at the moon. The blade double-edged, with a slight curve, as if it was made with one purpose alone.

To kill.

The thought scared me slightly, but it also intrigued me. The idea of using weapons like that knife to bring death excited me. I'm not sure whether that was good or bad.

I pick it up, and was shocked to find that it fit in my hand perfectly, like it belonged there.

I slipped it into a sheath on my belt, and discovered something I hadn't noticed earlier.

My belt was tilted up slightly, one side resting on my hip, the other on my waist. It was thick and wide, because it had many pockets and straps, filled with ammo, grenades, and other assorted weaponry. On my opposite hip to the knife, was a handgun in another sheath. Tucked into my boots was a small dagger. On my back was an intricately carved bow, with a quiver full of arrows, all with designs matching the knife.

I stand still, shocked and horrified at the amount of weapons on me. Why were they there? What was I supposed to use them for? My head hurt from trying to remember anything.

I walk through the woods, making as little noise as possible in case anything sinister was nearby. My footsteps were light, my knees slightly bent in case I needed to either fight or run in a split second. Was I a ninja in a past life? I can't even hear myself.

What's strange is that I feel completely comfortable in these woods, though I'm certain anyone else would find it frightening. I can hear all the animals snoring, the branches swaying, the wolves' occasional howls. It feels like this is my…..home. How weird is that? I've never been here before, at least…. I don't think so….

The trees ahead of me thin, and I feel my breath catch in my throat as I gaze upon the scene before me.

It's a beautiful lake, completely frozen over, the icy slick surrounded by snow covered grass, the trees with beautiful frost designs on them. The wind overhead begins to rustle the trees above me with it's ferocity, as if a plane was about to fly directly overhead.

I back up into the trees with incredible speed, blending into the shadows with ease. I don't dare to move, in case the plane is a non-friendly, in which it spotting me would definitely be bad.

It appears in the sky, not that far above the tree line, and my lungs stop working as I realise what it is.

Santa's Sleigh.

But…..but…Santa isn't real. He's just a story made up to trick kids into being good…..right?

I get jogged back to reality when I hear whoops and cheers from the circling sleigh, a shape dropping down onto the icy lake, surprisingly not cracking the delicate looking ice.

"Seeya Jack!"

My head whips back to the source of the noise, a Russian sounding voice coming from someone I couldn't see clearly from this distance.

"Bye guys!"

This time the noise came from the shape which dropped from the sleigh, which I know see to be a boy. Oh. He waves back at the sleigh, chuckling to himself and turning away when it zooms off.

Turning towards me.

His eyes widen, and he freezes in place, and I get a good look at him.

He looks about 14. About my age….I think. He has white-silver hair, a perfectly chiselled face, a blue hoodie with similar frost designs to the trees, rough brown pants, and is carrying a staff, I think, which is also pointing directly at my face as he stares.

I look directly into his eyes, and my breath releases shakily. Beautiful, ice blue eyes that shine with curiosity and warmth. And they're staring directly into mine.

"Who are you?"

His voice bursts through my thoughts, and my eyebrows push together as I realise the voice is his.

I don't know what to say. I don't know who I am.

His stance gets more aggressive when I don't answer, and my hand twitches unconsciously to my knife. This only makes it worse though.

I'm trapped between a rock and a hard place, I realise bitterly. There's only one thing I can do, considering the boy in front of me appears to be less than friendly.

So I do it.

I run.

I'm dashing madly through the trees before he can blink, my breathing erratic and uneven.

I hear him give chase, and I sigh heavily between pants. There's no way I can outrun him, I know what he can do. He can fly. I saw it. The lucky bastard.

As I sprint through the woods I so previously called home, I feel my mind empty, my heart slow, and my body contort, but I still keep moving. The pain is unbearable, yet only a whimper escapes my lips when others would have screamed. My skin turns to fur, my mouth into a muzzle, hands to paws.

And all of a sudden my sprinting feels different, rhythmic almost, as my pace quickens as my four legs move so quickly I'm all but a blur, streaking through the snow topped forest.

The pain dies down, and I smile, well, I do my best considering I have a muzzle. It's the most amazing thing I've ever experienced. Even though I'm moving through the greenery so fast it's definitely unhuman, I can see every miniscule detail of every leaf, feel every tiny movement of the snow under my paws, smell the scent of every living thing, hear every rustle of every branch.

I feel my pursuer stop his chase, and I know he's given up on catching me. I laugh huskily, my warm breath creating a fog in this winter paradise.

I slow my pace, but don't stop running. Not because I think the boy's still following me, but because running felt so right.

I content myself with examining my surroundings, and discover that I wound up on a mountain peak, a small pond being the only thing worth taking note of. Hmmm. Where am I in the world?

I feel my muscles contract, and whimper as I know what's about to happen.

The pain is just as excruciating as the first time, but luckily it's only a few seconds before I shakily stand on my human legs.

I stumble over to the tiny frozen pond, and fall backwards onto my knees when I get a glimpse of my reflection.

I cautiously crawl forward, inhaling slowly, until I can see my entire face in the ice.

I'm not ugly, but not amazingly beautiful either, I'm just…..striking.

I have red hair, but not bright red, yet not ginger either. Just…red.

My face was pale, not vampirish, but I most certainly didn't have a tan.

But the most striking thing was my eyes. Just like the boy's, they sent a chill over you, and held your gaze indefinitely. They were pure emerald, as deep and gleaming as the jewels themselves. They were as intimidating as my weapons, yet as warm as the summer sun.

They represented me perfectly.

I didn't know myself well, especially considering I couldn't remember a damn thing about who I was before I woke up, or how I acted, but I knew that I was fierce. I was smart, in battle strategy as well as pure logic and knowledge, I was ruthless, confident, charismatic.

But I also knew that I was scared. Of many things. I was headstrong. Sometimes my pride held dominion. And I was scared of intimacy. I was naturally independent, pushing others away constantly, hurting people in order to protect myself from betrayal. I had major trust issues.

And I had no idea why. I had no idea who I was, or why I was like this. Why I woke up surrounded by my own blood. Why I saw Santa's sleigh, which I know isn't real, why I saw a boy fly and why I turned into a wolf, which is impossible.

Why is all this happening to me? This has to be a twisted dream. But… who would I be when I woke up? I don't remember anything

I got the strangest feeling that I was being watched.

Getting up hesitantly from my crouched position by the pond, I slowly circled, eyes scanning for any sign of life.

Nothing.

But the feeling wasn't going away.

Looking around, I noticed something around my shadow.

Wait, shadow? No one has a shadow at night….

Yet there it is, a clearly defined shadow. Surrounded by the brightest moonlight I've ever seen.

Turning around, I was blinded by a beam of light, as if the moon has turned into a giant spotlight, pointing straight at me.

Goddamn it's bright.

Almost as if in answer to that thought, the light dimmed, turning to a soft glow.

Looking to the moon, I furrowed my eyebrows, what the hell was going on?

Don't be afraid.

I jump back, whipping around for the voice's source.

I feel a pull in my chest, turning me towards the moon, which seemed to shine in approval.

You have been chosen.

Chosen? Chosen for what? What the fuck is going on? Why the fuck is the moon talking to me?

You are the spirit of the forest. Of the animals within it.

You are the spirit of battle. Of the fighting involved.

You, are the spirit of bravery.

Oh sweet baby jesus. That's a lot to take in. I mean, after all that's happened, it kinda makes sense, but still, you can't just drop the 'you're a spirit' bomb on somebody like that. Bravery is a pretty fucking cool power though.

You are Arazebeth.

You are the Fortibus Lupus.