Catherine clutched the hem of her dress so tightly that it made her knuckles turn a snowy white. She could hear Virginia taking shaking breaths near her, and Gallows's deep voice trying to tell the young girl to cheer up, that things weren't as bad as they seemed. Did he think she was a fool, how could anyone believe such prattled nonsense? Though she searched deep within her heart, Catherine could not find the trigger in her body that would make her cry. She couldn't cry, even if it felt like her soul had been gutted by a rusty knife. Clive was a demon, one of the beings from folklore, whispered rumors scribed in the darkest ruins the only indicator that creatures of that kind had ever existed. This drifter team had fought the demons before, though she had been very far away when it happened, and fate wished them to do it all over again. But Virginia had a point, how could they dispel this threat when the monster in question was so close to their hearts?
"I… I see." She said, voice sounding forced and strained, "It does make sense. But how did this metamorphosis occur? I cannot discern in your story what it was precisely that changed my husband so. By a simple bite? I cannot believe that."
"Just a second," Halle interrupted, the end of her walking stick thunking on the ground as she tapped it, "I listened very well to your tale, young lady, with an 'unbiased' frame of mind." She nodded to Catherine for the use of the word, her aged face creasing into a smile. "And what I see is… well… what exactly did the demon look like?" Gallows looked sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck as her gaze shifted to him for an answer, which of course, he could give no first-hand account of.
"None of us really saw Clive in action," He admitted meekly, "But a guy in Claiborne gave us a description, is that good enough?" Halle lowered her eyebrows and did not reply, glaring steadily at the Baskar in intimidation. The youth made a noise that sounded like 'erk!' and continued without interference. He stood up and randomly guessed Clive's height, holding a hand up as an indicator and biting his lip in thought. "He's about this high… yeah… and the kid, Pike, said that he looked to be some weird combination of a wolf and a human, with really nasty sharp teeth and claws."
By then, the stew was done and ready to be eaten, but all the occupants of the house had forgotten about it's presence, were it not for the fire burning underneath the iron pot, it would have quickly gone cold. Taking very small steps towards the man standing up and still trying to see if he had gotten the height estimation right, Halle shifted her grip in the walking stick so that she held the thin end piece, and whapped Gallows callously over the head, showing her opinion physically. "You insurmountable buffoon!" She roared in a manner that would make Justine himself proud, "I just can't comprehend how dense you really are! Are you blind?! Why didn't you tell us sooner that you had a lycanthrope in your custody, don't you know what you've let loose in Filgaia?!"
Gallows deflected the second hit with his broad hands, holding them protectively over his head and cowering. "Owch! Hey Granny, stop! What the heck are you talking about?" Halle lowered her stick and set it as her crutch again, disgusted at the continual lack of study her grandson seemed to show. Hobbling back to her original place, she took the pot away from the fire before the stew inside could burn, setting it down next to Catherine so the broth could settle. It didn't look like they would be eating any time soon. This whole confusing mess needed to be sorted out first.
Shane spoke up. "I guessed it from the very beginning," He said, wringing his plait nervously, "That this singular fang was the indicator of a new lycan spawned, it has been over four hundred years, I think, since this last has happened." Catherine reclaimed the fang she had dropped and looked at it in wonderment as Shane continued to explain. "A lycanthrope is a man who is in the transitional stage between wolf and humanity, it is a short and vicious cycle, created by a spiritual infection brought about by the Guardian of desire herself, Luceid. These cursed souls, they are stripped of morality and reason, existing only for the desire that burns deep within their soul. They can eat only the flesh of animals, monsters or humans, and the metal silver, a symbol of purity, burns them like scalding acid. Do you want me to explain further?"
Things became a little clearer for Catherine. "Infection? One that can be spread, say, from a bite wound?" The pillar of Baskar nodded, surprised at the sudden calm that had overshadowed the woman. Her grief had been only a little more than fleeting, now she just looked genuinely curious over the matter. He got the picture after a second, Catherine wanted to know more so she could help Clive, immersing herself in pity would accomplish nothing. Shane felt a strange respect for the drifter, at how she could stay so strong.
"Ohhh…" Gallows drawled, having a revelation as some fragments of his long lost folklore studies ran back to him on proverbial silver wings. He remembered the lycanthropes, the mythical suitors of the desire Guardian. Well, he only recalled a bit of the information, and decided to let Shane speak, for he knew the stuff better anyway. But the infection part, he remembered that pretty well. "The infection thing is like a virus Arcana, it travels through the blood and makes weird changes to the body. I guess you could call it a Guardian-generated nanomachine. Interaction by blood or spit from the lycan to a different body spreads the illness. A scratch won't hurt you, but a bite could really do the job."
"Ah, now you remember, big Brother." Shane said to Gallows, retaining at least some hope that the older Baskar could make it to be a true priest someday. The young boy held up three fingers, drawing attention to his hand. "The state of lycanthrope lasts for approximately three days, three nights of the full moon. It is the moon that triggers the transformation, a frightening lunacy that can not be subdued by any outside force. The first night is the establishment of the new form, while the second is the reinforcement of the acquired power. The third and final night," His face grew grim, "Will bind him to his fate for all eternity, because after that, he can no longer return to his human form."
"From what Virginia has told us, chronologically speaking, tonight will be the second transformation, so we still have a little bit of time." Catherine looked at their young leader, still leaning against Gallows and trying to stifle the hiccups in her chest that she would not let out. The poor girl, loss was difficult on her, but Catherine wished she had the ability to show her feelings as openly as Virginia did, to vent the horrid distress boiling in her heart.
"One other thing," Shane continued, "Even outside of the nocturnal transformation, his body will still attempt to shift to a lupine structure, but much more gradually than a sudden transformation. According to the myths passed down to us from history, it seems that an increase in stress or torment will cause the change to happen faster. I'm really sorry to say this but…" He hung his head. "Any bodily modifications made out of the nightly metamorphosis will be permanent."
"So time is of the essence." Catherine concluded, folding her arms. How far along the track had Clive gotten so far? The next time they would meet, would she even recognize him? A lump built in her throat, but she swallowed it down hard and ignored the irritating burning behind her saddened eyes. "How do we fix this curse? There must be a way." Shane had said only a certain part would be 'permanent', which meant that there must be some existing way to cure her husband. She had to find out how.
Turning around sluggishly to face the bricked-up wall, Halle set her stick against the structure momentarily, deftly moving her fingers over each brick and counting under her breath. She paused suddenly and pulled out a block of granite, hiding a secret compartment behind the wall. A wooden box slid out, complex artistic Baskar patterns covering every inch of the case. It looked very old, but not old enough to be completely ancient yet. The old woman held the box out to Catherine, lifting the cover. "There's a red carton in there. Find it for me please, dearie. My eyes aren't what they used to be."
Catherine sifted through the arcane materials within the box, coming across burial tags, feathers of remarkable hue, an old golden locket with a feminine face inside, and finally the red carton hidden underneath all the other unusual junk. She removed it and Halle quickly closed the container, stashing it away in it's place within the wall. The drifter analyzed the carton delicately, it was very heavy for it's size and weighed down her hands. What was inside? Flicking open the lid like one would open a packet of cigarettes, she tapped many small objects into the palm of her hand, metallic and shining in the light. Jet and Shane looked over her shoulder, catching only a glimpse of the enigmatic items. Silver bullets.
"The lycanthrope is a very dangerous animal, many have fought it in the past, dying needlessly and messily. But it is easier than you may think to bring one down, a single shot with one of those bullets loaded into your ARMs will swiftly end it's life. There is no other way to beat it in a fight." The Baskar Elder explained tonelessly, leaning on her ever-present crutch. Catherine's eyes held an empty expression as she looked down upon the cylindrical pieces of ammunition, as if she was looking into the face of sadness itself, the emotion so strong that it could not be shown physically.
After being silent for far too long, Virginia finally exploded into action, standing bolt upright and almost knocking Gallows over. "So, you're saying that we should just kill him?! Kill Clive, our dear friend?! How can you stand here and expect us to do something like that?! We can't! I can't!" Her arms were shaking fiercely by her sides as she spoke, her white-gloved hands clenched in anger. "We have to help him, not hurt him. If we turn to violence in order to solve our problems, then we're no better then those who hurt others themselves."
Halle turned the brunt of her wrath to Virginia, overlooking Gallows for the first time because he wasn't actually doing anything stupid anymore. He had the sense to shut up. "And how do you expect to do that?!" The bottom of her stick rapped the floor loudly, emphasizing her statement. "The lycanthrope will not recognize you, young lady, except for as a piece of meat to kill, to eat, or to rape. If you walked up to it, talked to it, tried to place any influence over it, then You. Will. Die."
"Stop calling Clive an 'it'!" Virginia yelled, somehow unafraid of Halle's fury and matching that anger amply by herself. "No matter what he is, be it demon, lycan or human, he is still our friend! I would sooner shoot myself than my friends!" A hand was placed on Virginia's shoulder, making the leader of their drifter team calm down. Catherine took Virginia's hand with the other and tipped several silver bullets into the palm, shaking the red carton to do so. Afterwards, she let go and walked over to Clive's rifle leaning against the wall, picking it up and prying away the full green clip with total silence. "What… are you doing?" Virginia demanded, one eyebrow raised.
The magazine came loose after a few attempts and she poked out the solid bullets, letting them fall to the floor. Shifting the ARM to one hand, she opened the red carton again and dispensed a few rounds, inserting them into the emptied clip. With an audible snap, Gungnir was reloaded with the silver ammunition, ready to be used. Catherine laid the gun back against the wall, not needing it just yet. When she faced Virginia, her eyes were wet with tears. "I love him," She said, the emotion behind those words more powerful than anything else. "More than life itself. So much, that it hurts. I cannot let Clive fall into the pits of Hell without at least trying to save him. Even if this is the only way to break the curse, I do believe that he would rather die with his humanity and reason intact than live forever as a beast. Please understand," Tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped off her chin, "I love him too much to see him suffer."
Virginia was silent.
The youngest Baskar present slipped himself off his perch, hitting the stone floor and making a little noise. Shane forced an optimistic smile and moved to grab his big brother by the elbow, tugging gently. He scanned the two arguing women and made a quiet prayer for their good fortune. "Do not give up hope just yet!" He declared out loud, still trying to pull Gallows's muscular arm away. "Big Brother, come with me. We must consult the history texts for more information, maybe we can find something that might help." Gallows's started at the request, but for the first time in his life, he nodded docilely and allowed himself to be led away for some study, the only type of study that could help his friends. For that, he would learn as much as possible before his eyeballs fell out.
Jet was, as always, as crass as ever. "We eatin' or what?" He snorted, scratching his mop of silvery hair. Halle grinned and held up the pot of stew, now only lukewarm after the long conversation and arguments. He got down from the wall and sat next to the old woman who also took a seat, dishing up the stew into two wooden bowls for the both of them. They appeared unconcerned on the outside, but their own inner turmoil's swirled around within them, ever the introverts.
The silver bullets felt cold and hard, resting in the palm of her hand. Virginia was practically glaring at Catherine, unbelieving that what the woman had just told her was true. She intended on shooting her own husband? What kind of person was she? Out of everyone here, the drifter had expected Catherine to react the worst, from the threat of losing her entire family, she was going to reassure her that everything would be okay and that they would find some way to cure Clive, but this… Virginia had experienced so much cold-heartedness in her life, but she had never expected it to come from someone as warm as Catherine. Confused, she wondered what on Filgaia was going around in her head right now.
"… Kaitlyn is gone, and Clive is leaving me…" She whispered hoarsely, seeming not to focus on Virginia, but on the wall behind her. "Please, please excuse me. I believe I need some fresh air." Going just slow enough to make it look like she wasn't running, Catherine brushed past Virginia and headed for the door, the coolness of mid-afternoon enveloping the colony of Baskar.
All of a sudden, Virginia dropped the silver bullets she had been holding like they were poisonous, a tinkling clatter from their impact on the floor meeting her ears. Something inside her snapped, she choked out a broken sob and dashed quickly up the stairs, throwing herself roughly onto the first bed in sight, grabbing the grass-woven pillow and burying her tear-streaked face in it, muffling her sad whimpers. Yes, it was happening again, she cursed vehemently underneath her breath, constricted by the tears, she was losing another father, one that finally looked to be filling the void left by Werner years ago. Why did everyone she cared about leave? Why?!
Likewise to the drifter leader, as soon as Catherine stepped into the bright light of the sun, smelling the sweet autumn breeze and hearing all the Baskar folk up and about to their daily business, the stress finally became too much for the poor woman and she fell to her knees, unable to hold her tears back any longer. She cried audibly, her hands over her face, feeling ashamed at how weak she had turned out to be when her strength was needed the most. Catherine's family was gone, he was gone. And, her mind flashed back to the gun waiting inside the house, she knew the task that was appointed to her, only to her.
The chicks cheeped, the chickens clucked. Happily, the dog nearby chased them, tongue dangling out of it's mouth and yapping.
And Catherine cried.