Chapter 4: The Winds of Change

Alkaria went back to her concealment in the trees once more and sat down to meditate on the series of unfortunate events that had just tumbled down upon her.

She had run away from home with her sword and a backpack, containing many bare essentials but nothing that vaguely represented her noble life. Those things were all useless now. I must have turned into that monsterous abomination and dropped my sword and backpack. All of those items will be at the scene of Pans death. She gasped aloud. Pan is dead, Pan is dead, Pan is dead, she thought as she supressed the urge to scream her fury and frustration at the world. Any thoughts of living with him are all just fantasies in my head now. I wish I had a better back-up plan!

She shivered as a rather unpleasant cool breeze tickled at her exposed skin, giving her goosebumps. She realised the bizarre reality of her situation was that she was sitting naked, under a tree in the early morning, worrying about what her father might think if he found her. She could not help but erupt into a bright vibrant laughter, which split her sides, releasing some of her pent up anxiety.

All right, the first thing I think I aught to do is find some shelter and food and possibly clothing. Knowing father, he will search for three days before giving up but by then I intend to be long gone.

She looked at the farmstead. I wonder if he had a family or was alone. If I knocked on the door, would someone answer? Most likely not because no one cleaned up his death and I'm sure a wife or children would notice if their beloved father was missing. She observed that she wouldn't check her father's bed to see if he had survived the night. She would have never even spoken to father for days on end, had he not consistently summoned her to his side.

She sighed and finally thought what have I got to lose? She went to the old white farmhouse and knocked on the back door. There was no response. She lifted the handle and it was open. This must have been where he came out last night, she speculated.

She spent the rest of the morning searching the empty house. She found that the farmer lived in solitude, alhough he must have had a wife, because in his cupboard he had a box labeled 'Darlene,' with some woman's clothing packed neatly inside. It smelled of must, misuse and a sligtly perfumed tinge that wafted through the air. She pulled out a shabby looking dress that was too big for her and figured it would do till she found some decent leathers perhaps.

In the kitchen, she discovered enough food that would last her a grand total of two days at most. Well it had to be enough to last her for her journey back to her sword. She would not go to any foreign place without it. Alongside Pan, it was her foremost companion and when she felt incredibly sad as a child, she would go practice outside for hours with her sword. That hadn't changed. It is as much an extension of her arm as the trees of the forest are extensions of eachother, their roots all intricately interconnected. Being without it, she felt like a piece of her soul was missing.

She pulled off the sheets of the bed, fashioning a rucksack to hold her food. She left the house and went back into the forest. It was the early afternoon then but in Shadow Wood even the brigtest light will leave a trail of groping darkness in its wake.

She spent the whole day, night and a bit of the next day wandering about aimlessly until she became one with the rhuthms of the Forest. She became used to how it all worked together and awe-struck by the beauty of nature, the essence of all life itself, she realised, must have sprouted from a forest. Animals never had problems with their father's or worried if their friends died. They accepted it as a part of their lives.

"Bless thee, Corellon Lorethian, for thine divine teachings thou havest brought me," she prayed aloud, "I have learned the valuable lesson of acceptance and hope that your Mighty Wisdom will spread on to others who are in need of guidance."

She eventually ran out of food but learned to cope with eating once a day. She learned how to live off nature after being chucked in the deep end and was eternally grateful to the misfortune that had happened to her, for within her it granted a change and a second chance at life.

Three days and two nights after her lycanthrope transformation, on a blissful morning of watching the sun rise, she stumbled upon a tree trunk that had been clawed at beyond repair. Her hair stood on end. She was close, she could feel it.

She went through the bushes and gasped as the full extent of what she and the other creature had done. Her horse had been dismantled into bits of unidentifiable gibb and her clothes (or what was left of them) lay there, tattered and torn, with clumps of feathers strewn around the forest floor.

She walked cautiously a few steps forward and then stopped. Frozen in her steps, she saw exactly what had befallen Pan in the dawn's crystal clear light. She did not feal sorrow or regret, nor did she feel anger. She felt hollow. Her friends face was still contorted in the motion of his scream.

She looked around and found her sword not far away. She picked it up, cleaned off the glinting metal and rested it on the palm of her hand. She then neatly slid it across her hand, making a crimson insition parallel to the lines of her hand. She did not feel the pain as it was too minor to be compaired to the loss of a friend.

"I vow upon your dead body, Pan, I will be rid of this curse… I will help others with it along the way and rid the world of all similar evils." She promised softly aloud. She let some of her blood drop on the sand next to his cold corpse. The ground absorbed it, quickly quenching its thirst.

"UPON CORELLON'S RETURN TO THIS WORLD, YOU WILL BE AVENGED!!!"

She turned to her backpack, flung someways away in some under brush, she began pulling out some extra clothing she had stored and got changed. She knelt down, giving a small burial blessing for her horse and turned to leave the way she came.

The next few weeks were spent scouring West Zaravon for answers. Alkaria travelled from town to town, posing as a lycanthrope researcher, looking for more information on the topic. She learned of a great library in her many travels. A library so huge, it held all the books known to man, some say. A library so vast, wizards from all over the land will make a year's worth journey, just to read one manuscript from its hallowed halls. Alkaria took these rumours to heart and speedily made her trail lead towards Dark Maze, a big trading town said to host this mighty collector of books.