"Very little remains of recorded historic relations between Elves and Vampires, except in the horror stories and folktale passed down in the different tribes of Xadia. The most accurate records remain in the possession of the Startouch Clans, whom guard them ferociously.

However, it is believed that, in the midst of Vlad Dracula Tepes' reign, there was a temporary peace between Elves and their predators. For a time, some open-minded tribes would donate blood to keep the local vampires fed while the vampires would share some of the unique magic they possessed with the elves; hence was how the first Ghouls came to be."

- Personal log of the Alucard, Anti-Dracula.


"Though Lycan had become a quasi-outcast among, his childhood sweetheart and lover, Lupe, accompanied him on his journeys. It was after a night of passion that in the following morning, Lupe learnt his physical capabilities had greatly increased; she had developed magical abilities similar, though less powerful, to Lycan's."

- Excerpt from the Chronicles of Lycan, the First Werewolf.


Prince Ezran was never a morning person. Spending his free time exploring tunnels and secret passageways in Castle Katolis and often staying awake at night to share exploring stories with his brother, tended to leave the crown prince a little too clingy to his bed, in the following morning. The morning was evil, as he once said. It was exacerbated by the Lupin Curse. After a night of full moon and the ensuing exhausting transformation, Ezran could and would sleep until noon.

Yet, today was the complete opposite. The previous night, on their way up the Cursed Caldera, Ezran had gotten so upset he turned werewolf. To make matters worse, it wasn't even a full moon. And he wound up injuring Ellis, the explorer girl that so kindly helped them get here. On the bright side, the 'mystery healer' revealed herself to be a moonshadow elf mage who helped Ellis as best as she could and allowed them to stay the night there.

All those events would make anyone else want to stay in bed until the following day. But not Ezran, not today. Today he felt oddly refreshed and full of energy. At least, his body felt so. As for his mind…

"Ugh. How can I feel so pumped up and so tired, simultaneously? Any ideas, Zym?" the boy asked the dragon egg that sat beside him on the grass, outside of the room where they stayed the night.

"Yeah, me neither." with a resolute sigh, Ezran lied back down to gaze at the cloudy sky. Something silver fell upon his sight. It was a lock of his own hair, which he pushed away. To add another change to his body, courtesy of the curse.

His nose wrinkled at the thought. More than once he overheard Callum whispering about body changes, but when Ezran would ask him about it, the older brother would shut him down with jittery excuses.

"Puberty, whatever it is, sounds weird." he blurted out his thoughts.

"I guess so. I heard it's a disease that makes your hair bend back and start going into your skin." Ellis made herself known. Unsurprisingly, Ava, the three-legged wolf, was with her.

"Oh, good morning, Ellis! Ava!" a pang of embarrassment struck Ezran for speaking aloud. Fortunately, the girl thought not too much of it.

"Good morning, early bird."

He chuckled. "Not really one. I just didn't feel like sleeping anymore."

"Ava's the same whenever she comes close to the Caldera. But today was a record even for her." Ellis hugged her companion who whined adorably. Curious, Ezran turned to the wolf whom addressed him:

"Fresh winds, silver alpha cub."

"Fresh winds to you, too, Ava. Are you alright?"

"I am. But you held some secrets. Even before, I sensed the smell of one of mine from you. Under the moon, you proved to be one of my own…yet, you were not one of my own." the wolf sounded confused.

"It's kind of a long story. I got cursed and turn into that, sometimes."

"That explains it." Ellis murmured, like she was a part of the conversation.

Rayla came by and announced that breakfast was ready, courtesy of their host, Lujanne. The moonshadow elf lady may not be a miraculous healer, but was kind enough to allow them to stay at the Nexus for the time being. That was what Ezran thought until he saw what said breakfast consisted of. Rayla and Ellis immediately sat at the table, followed by Lujanne. The prince, however, remained rooted to the ground. Eyes locked on the table with a mixture of disgust and shock.

"What's wrong, Ezran?" Rayla asked, a fork full of 'food' halfway to her mouth. Not that Ezran would ever call that 'food'.

"Guys, what are you doing?" the boy resisted the urge to vomit.

"We're eating." Ellis shrugged.

"Can't you see what you're eating?"

"Uh, moonberry cake." Rayla shrugged.

"Apple pie." Ellis replied.

"That's not what I'm seeing."

Lujanne hummed in. "Interesting. So you can see through my illusions. Like you did with the monsters."

"Illusions?" Rayla eyed the fork in her hand with a piece of moonberry cake. "Wait, if this food are illusions, what are we eating?"

It was Ezran who answered, pointing at Ava and Lujanne's pet companion, a giant deep-blue moon phoenix called Phoe-Phoe. Both animals were digging happily into bowls of strange living worms. The worms had silver filaments that emitted a faint glow.

The girls turned from Ezran and Lujanne, both of whom nodded, him awkwardlyand she happily. Rayla shrieked and dropped the fork.

"Moonshine worms! You're feeding us moonshine worms?!" the elf girl turned colleric to the older woman, while trying not to throw up.

"Moonshine?" Ellis asked, not appearing as affected as Rayla by the revelation.

"Yes. They are little grubs who become packed with nutrients when exposed to the moonlight. Makes them a very healthy source of nourishment around here. I mean, how do you think I kept my slender figure all these years here?" Lujanne explained, winking .

Whereas Rayla was still struggling to fight the urge to throw up, Ellis looked between her food and the bowl Ava ate from. Shrugging, she carried on eating her breakfast. "Hmm, this is some tasty illusion, Miss Lujanne."

"Why, thank you!"

Seeing Ezran's and Rayla's agape expressions, the wolf-girl said. "It actually tastes pretty good. And if it's healthy, it's a bonus."

The prince's belly chose that moment to loudly remind him he hadn't eaten, still. He feared he wouldn't be able to combat the hunger for much longer.


Viren was not having a pleasant morning. As an omen that today wouldn't be a good day, breakfast didn't go down smoothly and didn't help the drowsiness he woke up with. A cup of his daughter's hot brown morning potion would have made it better. Sadly, its recipe was known to only her.

Then, the scheduled council meeting didn't go in his favor. To answer against the current crisis, the mage pushed for a summit of the Pentarchy but the rest of the council was reticent at best or downright opposing, at worst. They argued that Harrow's assassination may have been Xadia's goal and things would settled down. Those naive morons! Despite his arguments that General Amaya reported elven forces more active by the Border, and dragons have been witnessed hovering the skies of Katolis, they refused to support his motion.

To make matters worse, Opeli pulled him aside and threatened the other kingdom's would never support Katolis if they ever learnt of Viren's theft of the egg. It was enough for Viren to have wished he had cursed her, instead!

Hadn't his hands been tied by the step-prince's existence, the knowledge of the egg's survival and Amaya's threat, he could be sitting on the throne, right now. Then, none of this idiotic beaurocracy would stand in his way.

Viren took a calming breath as he walked to his office. The cherry on top of the cake that was this frustrating morning was that he could feel the eyes of the standing guards on his back. Even though those men and women didn't leave their posts, he could tell they were watching his every move, committing it to memory so they would dispel everything to Opeli or whatever crony she had entrusted to keep an eye on him.

He entered his office and locked himself in. It was the only place, save for the bathroom, where he could have some privacy. With a growl, he kicked a coat hangerto relieve the pent up frustration.

"Damn them all!" he shouted. When his mind cooled off, he rearranged the mess and walked to the other inhabitant of the study, the green and black xadian songbird that previously belonged to Harrow. Following the king's demise, Viren took possession of the bird. It spent most of its time silently gazing towards the window.

"No song today, either, uh? You're not the only one who's been having quite a few off days." with a sigh, Viren introduced a handful of seeds into its cage and set out for business.

He didn't suspect that the guards outside have a way to spy through the double doors…but one can never be too sure.

He took out one of the butterflies from the secret compartment behind a bookshelf. For years he had bred these little ones for the purpose of maintaining his glamor. But being Moon Primal creatures, they had other uses. He muttered an incantation. The glowing butterfly withered and died in his hand, while an illusion of himself sitting at the secretary, reading a big tome, manifested. If anyone indeed spied through the door, they wouldn't notice his absence, at least for the time being.

As he climbed down the secret flight of stairs to his laboratory, he silently cursed the need for such secrecy, all because that mongrel adopted prince disclosed the truth about his theft of the egg. Because of him, some of these very tunnels were not even secret anymore! Save for a few hidden rooms not even his dear Claudia knew of.

Such as this one that Viren entered. The secret room was small, dimly lit and sparsely furnished. A table with a small wooden chest with metal frames. A large recipient in a corner of the room, containing dozens of gallons of the vampire prince's blood, taken from bloolettings on the pretext of analysis and study to develop a cure. But the latest addition to the room was what Viren was focusing on. An ornate, full-length mirror that displayed the image of a very mysterious elf.

Wordlessly, Viren walked towards a flask on the table containing an ugly, purple caterpillar. He put it in his ear, suppressing the disgust of it.

Aaravos greeted the dark mage. "So tell me, my friend, how was your morning? Was it enlightening enough to make you reconsider my proposal?"


Hunger had at last defeated Ezran's resolve and he sat at the table to join in the meal. Yet he remained incapable of eating what he could see was a bowl of glowing worms. Rayla suggested he ate with his eyes closed. It worked, barely. As long as he didn't think of anything slimy whenever he took a bite.

"Think of that Duraneese spaghetti." he told himself, imagining the slimy worms were actually that dish he had once tried, coated in cream and oils.

Thankfully, Lujanne provided a distraction by inquiring about the origins of his curse. Ezran gave her a watered down retelling. Lujanne listened with silent interest, not once betraying a reaction.

"And every month has been the same. I turn and go wild. The next morning, everything is a blur." he finished with a shrug.

Lujanne hummed. "When a lycanthropo would go through their first transformation, they would often not remember whom or what they were. Becoming a werewolf alters not just the body, but also the mind. Such metamorphys would be, disconcerting, to say the least, at first." she paused. "However, that happened only on the first full moon. And it was seldom for a lycanthropo to become that savage."

Ezran's spirits diminished. When their journey began, Rayla had told him the ancient history of the werewolf elves - the Lycanthrop tribe. Initially, Ezran felt sorry that those people had eventually become just as dangerous as he was, and had to be ostracized. When he mentioned this to Lujanne, her expression became vague.

"The truth is, werewolves had become very powerful and secluded. When Lupin perfected his transformation, he became a wild beast and contaminated his fellows. And they went on a rampage against their neighbors at the Silvergroove."

"Yeah, Rayla told me that the dragons disbanded the Lycanthrop tribe and declared being a werewolf illegal."

Lujanne sighed, looking into the distant mountain peaks that pierced the clouds. "Yes, that is the told truth. But, like the moon arcanum, there are so many untold ones." she quickly recomposed herself and turned to him with that inquisitive smile of hers. "Now, I can understand why you'd call this a curse. But you mentioned you found a way to cope with it."

There were times when Ezran would ask a grown up a question, and they would give no answer. Either would say they didn't know, change the subject or claim they had more important stuff to do. Ezran didn't like those moments, and he was rather perceptive at picking up on the signs. Lujanne was doing just that. And while the prince would like to press the matter, he conceited she was being kind enough just for indulging him.

"I've been drinking these elixirs, called Wolf's Bane." he produced a flask from his pocket. Lujanne took and analyzed it with an inquisitive eye. She pulled the cork and sniffed it.

"It's primarily Wolf's Bane flower. According to legend, used by the Lycanthrop Tribe to appease their wildest members. How often do you drink this?"

"Every night, before bed. It's supposed to keep me docile under the full moon, but…"

She finished for him. "But last night, you transformed even though the moon was waning. My first thought was that it was triggered by your proximity to the Moon Nexus. But from what you disclosed, it seems your emotions and the evolution of the 'curse' are also factors."

"What are you saying? That this is going to get worse with time?" Ezran felt as if he had a lump on his throat.

Lujanne nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so. These elixirs were drunk by Lycantrhopos of the past in the seldom times they couldn't control transformations. If you have been taking it so frequently, then your body is beginning to adapt to their effect. Eventually, no amount of elixir will have any effect."

Ezran felt as if the ground crumbled beneath his feet. The day his curse manifested he feared every full moon becoming a monster. The elixirs were his saving grace, his anchor to the normality he knew before the curse knocked at his door.

And now…he had been told that saving grace was just a temporary reprieve. That the return to the monthly nightmare was not only inevitable but guaranteed to become worse. What if he started transforming every night? Or even during the day? Or simply because he was angry?

Rayla, sensing the pressure her little friend was going through, rushed to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You know so much about werewolves, can't you think of a solution? You stopped him last night, after all." she half-demanded, half-begged the older elf.

Lujanne looked down despotently. Then… "Well, there could be a way to cope with it, I suppose."

Facing the hopeful stares of the children, she carried on. "Lycanthropy has always been associated with the Earth and Moon Primals. The Lycantrorpos were, by default, moon and earth mages. Even if they didn't dwell much on spellcasting."

"I never heard of werewolves being mages." Rayla added.

"Lycanthropy is a form of magic combining both Primal Sources, the moon and the earth. Therefore, werewolves were, technically, mages."

She looked pointedly at Ezran. "Connecting to those two Primal sources was the first step for an elf to become a creature of the night without losing their mind."

Ezran gasped, slamming his palms on the table. "That's it! I just need to learn moon and earth magic to control myself." fueled by new hope, Ezran pleaded with Lujanne. "Can you teach me?"

"No."

Without another word, she turned her back on him. "Humans are born without any connection to any of the Primal sources."

Ezran shook his head in denial. "That's not true. I've seen humans doing magic."

"That kind of magic is an abomination. It's impossible for a human to learn primal magic because your kind is born without an arcanum."

Ezran's heart sank and he fell to his knees.

But Lujanne wasn't done. Slowly, she turned back to the prince. "At least, that's what I thought until you came along. You were born without any arcanum, yet you transform into a Lycanthropo. A feat that can only be achieved by understanding not one but two arcanums."

The prince looked confused. "But if I'm a werewolf…what does that mean?"

"I mean that, whatever this 'curse' is, I believe it has granted you a portion of the moon and earth primals - arcanums of your own."


Viren had played the game long enough to know it's not enough to be subtle in order to make a secret plan succeed. No, to make a move that no one else must see, your allies also must be subtle. Even your pawns must be subtle, elusive, perhaps even cunning. But not too much that they would try to turn on you to get the spoils.

Enter Varney, a guard best known for his unassuming appearance and typical bags under his eyes, giving him a tired, unattentive expression. For that, Varney wasn't considered the cleverest tool in the shed.

But Viren knew better, for he discovered years ago the uninteresting looking soldier was quite sharp actually. And pragmatic as well, taught by the harshness of his childhood in the lap of poverty. Reason why he had agreed to be the dark mage's on-and-off inside-man, as long as he received a bonus of golden coins.

Today, as the High Mage turned a corner, he swiftly left a neatly paper note shoved in a narrow space between two bricks. Less than five minutes afterwards, Varney passed by the spot and swiftly took the note without pause. That was the place where Varney and Viren would exchange messages without ever talking to one another.

In the wine rack you will find a bottle with a red seal. Make sure it's served to Morzan, the Ripper as his last meal.

Morzan, the Ripper, was an imprisoned serial-killer awaiting execution. As per the law, he would have the right to a last, reasonably generous meal. Following that, he would go through a public execution via guillotine. For the event to be official, it was customary for a member of the Court to accompany the procession. Therefore, Viren elected to go himself. And that would be the moment Viren would make his move.

Flashback.

"Fledgling Vampire?" Viren questioned.

"Indeed. General rule, vampires were barren, therefore unable to procreate. Because they were essentially immortal, that did not present an immediate problem. However, in the scarce times they needed to maintain or increase their population, they would turn an elf into a vampire." the elf in the mirror divulged. For some reason, Viren's expression faltered when he mentioned 'turn'. Aaravos filed that information for later.

"You see, there was a ritual that allowed a chosen elf to be elevated to vampirism. The chosen elf would consume a cup filled with a single vampire's blood. Once completed, the elf would evolve into a fledgling vampire; a mindless predator whose thirst for magical blood would be its only drive. Once the fledgling had their first drink," Aaravos grinned, the tips of his canines shown. "They would become a full-fledged vampire, with all their cognitive abilities returned."

"I see." Viren's mind was racing. Most of that information he had deduced with his own observations and Claudia reports by letter. "So, if a fleshling has drunk blood from a magical creature, will they complete their transformation?"

Aaravos hummed, his answer not immediate. "Not quite. The fledgling must hunt for the blood and take it from an unwilling victim. If it's handed to them, it will not reawaken their mind. Only nourishment obtained through predation does the tricks."

"So that Fledgling's Death potion will not make the vampire prince regain his mind upon transforming, then."

Aaravos could see Viren's thought process, even if he couldn't know his thoughts. The ancient elf decided to drop a little bit of info. Both as a test and a hook. "Tell me, Vir…"

"I especially told you not to call me that."

"As you wish, Vir. Have you in your studies ever come upon the term 'ghoul'?"

"No, I have not." Viren admitted. In the short time he had come to know this being, it was made plain clear that Aaravos enjoyed taunting his greater knowledge over Viren's.

"As I mentioned, the process of vampirification was complex and forgotten. There is, however, a downgraded version of the ritual. If an elf, and potentially a human, were to consume concoction of vampire blood mixed with their own, the drinker would become a ghoul; a being with powers similar, though weaker, to those of the vampire's."

That got Viren's attention. "Interesting."

Aaravos smirked. "Interesting, indeed, Vir."

Viren returned to the room with the mirror. Aaravos stood there, indulging in one of his many books on the other side of the mirror. Upon noticing him, the elf put the book away. Vir placed that gruesome caterpillar on his ear so he could communicate with his enigmatic ally.

"Ah, Vir! So good to see you again. I've been meaning to ask you for something."

"What is it, then?" Viren had given up in trying to get the flamboyant elf to call him by his actual name.

"I have been walking around the castle and overheard some guards whispering about the missing cursed princes. It has come to my attention you never divulged how the children became cursed in the first place. I wish to know how."

Viren tried not to show his uneasiness. "Why does that matter to you?"

Aaravos shrugged. "Call it a whim of mine. Simple curiosity."

Viren gave in, hoping the elf wouldn't probe too much. "The Katolian princes were cursed by the king of the Dragons, Thunder, as his last act of revenge before he fell."

Aaravos frowned. "He fell? You mean to tell me someone annihilated Big-bearded Jackass?"

Viren raised an eyebrow. "Big-bearded…what?"

"That is the nickname I branded Avizandum with."

"Avizandum? So that was Thunder's true name."

"And 'Thunder' was the one you came up with? Clearly, your kind is nothing if not imaginative."

Ignoring the jab at his species, Viren went on to proclaim. "Well, either way, Avizandum fell by my hand. And by Harrow's hand."

"Yes, very cute, Vir. Try not to dislodge anything while patting yourself in the back. Now, going back to my question, Vir; it was with his last breath that he casted two moon-oriented curses on two human children that weren't even present at the event?"

"Yes." Viren said with utmost certainty, hoping it was enough to convince the elf.

It wasn't. "Please, don't tell me you don't find that notion ludicrous. Surely, someone has clever as yourself doesn't believe that for a second." Aarovos didn't need to look Viren in the eye to judge his response, which came out vague and defensive:

"It did come to my attention, yes."

The ancient archmage saw right through that. He casted a fleeting glance at the small chest with elven writing on the table. Judging by the dust covering it, it hadn't been touched in months.

Aaravos opted to change the subject. That was a topic for another time. "It has come to my attention that though we have discussed quite a lot about vampires, you asked very little concerning lycanthropos."

"Werewolves, or lycanthropos as your people called them, were an easier subject to research. I have acquired enough information on my own." Viren postured.

"Oh, I doubt that, my dear Vir. You did well to acquire a good supply of the vampire prince's blood, I admit. Did you do the same with the werewolf boy?"

"I did, at first. But his blood revealed no magical properties, whatsoever. I experimented with eleven different spells. There was no effect." Viren seemed ready to dismiss the subject when Aaravos waved his finger, like an adult teaching an ignorant child.

"I'm afraid that you didn't do your research well. In the case of werewolves, their saliva is fluid that carries their mutation. Not only does it have healing properties when it is applied to a wound, but if an elf would ingest any of it, they would temporarily gain heightened senses of a werewolf." Aaravos grinned mischievously. "I reckon the werewolf prince is still too young to be looking at girls and/or boys with intimate intent. Before lycanthropy became illegal, ordinary elven teenagers would become enamored with werewolves for those benefits."

Viren made a face. "That is all…very enlightening, but please let's focus on the matter at hand. Is it ready?"

The elf in the mirror gestured to a bowl of red liquid in the corner. Viren walked towards it, eyeing the concoction with a tentative expression.

"Will it work?"

"Definitely. A potion made from vampire blood and your own will grant you the capabilities similar, though downgraded, to those of a vampire. But as a benefit, unlike a fledgling vampire, you will not be bound to the vampire prince's will."

Viren was well aware Aaravos couldn't be fully trusted, but the man was out of options. It was only a matter of time before the rest of the council fully turned against him. He needed power over them all.

Aaravos recited, watching patiently as the bowl neared Viren's mouth. "The strength of a hundred men. The speed of a falling star. Dominion over all night creatures, to see and hear through their senses. To heal grievous wounds. All the basic abilities of a full-fledged vampire. Powers that the prince barely has access to, until he savors the blood of his first magical prey. Becoming a ghoul would give you a mitigated version of these gifts, though."

Slowly, he took the bowl to his lips and began to drink. The taste was awful and the notion that he was drinking blood made it more disgusting. Felt as if swallowing poison. His body gagged and urged him to stop and vomit the foul substance. But Viren carried on. After what felt like an eternity, the horrid liquid went all in and he threw the bowl away. The dark mage fell to his knees, desperate to keep the bloody potion in his system.

"W-what now?" he asked with a ragged breath at the elf, who watched the whole scene dispassionately.

"Now…you die."

That was the last thing Viren heard before pain took over his body. His blood boiled like molten iron. He cried out alone, in pain, until he passed out.


"Uhg, this is hopeless." It was way past noon when Ezran finally gave up on his attempt at meditation.

Hours before, Lujanne had offered to help Ezran to, in her own words, 'open his spark of an arcanum', in hopes of helping him control the Lupin curse. To that end, she explained he would have to understand the essence of the Moon Primal Source. Unfortunately, that was something the mage was incapable of expressing verbally. It was something she just instinctively knew.

Therefore, to try and help Ezran understand it, she proposed he sit at the center of the Moonhenge - a decayed structure of tall and long stone spires arranged in a circle, with elven runes carved on them - and meditate over the meaning of the arcanum.

"Feels more like boring, if you ask me." a few steps away laid Ellis, whom had been observing him with only half attention. For once, the girl wasn't in the company of her wolf friend.

Ezran muttered. "It was boring that I was just about ready to start talking with those ants. Even though I know from experience ants are not talkative." he pointed to a trail of said insects on the white stone floor.

Ellis got up and walked towards the pouting prince. "I don't understand how napping is going to help with your curse thingy?"

"I wasn't napping. I was meditating. It's a different thing."

"But you were sitting with your eyes closed and breathing slowly. That sounds like napping to me. Like when you're too tired to rest, but not tired enough to sleep."

Ezran raised a finger to explain the differences, but thought better when he realized he had no argument against her. Guess meditating really was just napping. Still, that only served to worsen his frustration.

Ellis hummed. "This is still boring. Let's do something fun."

"Like what?"

"Ava always goes exploring at this time. Let's join her."

Ezran easily conceded and the two met the three-legged wolf lying just outside Rayla's room. Next to Ava was the prince's backpack that contained the egg. Sensing their approach, she greeted them both with friendly licks. That lifted the prince's spirits, a little.

Rayla agreed to watch over the egg while the two would go 'frolicking around the mountain', as she put it. Though she meant it without any bitterness.

Ava quickly proved to be quite the runner, regardless of how many legs she had. And the fact that she raced and sprinted up the caldera with two little humans on her back made it all the more admirable.

Ellis cried out in joy, spreading her arms throughout the journey. Ezran thought of doing the same when he noticed Ava slowed down.

"What's wrong, Ava? Are you tired?"

"Not tired." the wolf sounded almost indignant. "Its best to slow down sometimes. So I can see better everything I pass by."

Ezran nodded. "Yeah, guess that makes sense. We humans always prefer to go slightly faster, even when it barely makes a difference." he recalled Human-Rayla's impression joking about the same thing.

He looked around and saw Ava had slowed her pace for a good reason. The afternoon sunlight reflected beautifully on the snowy peaks. It was quite different from the sunset landscape they had seen on their way up the caldera. Equally beautiful and mesmerizing, but in a different way. It made the name 'Cursed Caldera' sound inadequate, really.

At last they arrived atop the caldera, where Ezran was left in awe. The lake at the center looked undisturbed, not a wave tarnished its surface. It made the water look like a smooth mirror that perfectly reflected the sky.

"Pretty, isn't it? Ava and I came up here this morning to see it. Thought you'd like it."

"Wow. It's amazing. I bet Callum would happily do twenty jerkface dance's just for a chance to draw this."

"Jerkface dance?"

Ezran animatedly explained in detail the dance that his older brother had to perform whenever he was proven wrong and Ezran right. Ellis laughed and confessed she wished she could see it someday.


It was nighttime in the capital city of Katolis. The procession that walked towards the plaza began with a soldier carrying a black flag; that marked it as a public execution underway. In the middle of it, inside an iron cage, was a man responsible for the death of fifteen unsuspecting people just in the city; Morzan, the Ripper. The man had long, disheveled black hair and an aloof expression of acceptance. He seemed content as they approached the platform built upon the plaza. The long, sharp, diagonal blade of the guillotine dimly reflected the light of torches.

Citizens of Katolis watched, some with justified anger, others with a twinge of pleasure, that the monster that had taken friends and loved ones from them would soon meet its end. As per the law, a member of the royal court was present to officialize the execution. And tonight was Lord Viren, who looked at the man with no emotion.

As the two guards held the shackled prisoner, Viren spoke the rehearsed speech.

"Morzan Zar'roc, you stand here tonight to answer for your crimes of twenty-seven accounts of murder on your fellow citizens of Katolis, fifteen of those here in the capital city. For these heinous crimes, you have been found guilty and sentenced to be executed by decapitation. Do you have any last words?" as soon as Viren finished speaking that aloud, he whispered an incantation of dark magic low enough for no one to hear.

"Nrub, onilucard eht fo doolb!"

Unbeknownst to Morzan himself, Callum's vampire blood, which had been mixed in the wine that complemented the serial killer's last meal, activated. The man began to spasm and growl inhumanly. The guards holding him were surprised but kept their grip.

Morzan's eyes became two pitch black orbs, his skin acquired a tone of gray, and his canines grew into large fangs. With a hiss he tossed two men restraining him like ragdolls and turned towards the horrified populace. In a flash he lunged at a young man and sank his newly-grown teeth into his neck. The man didn't have time to cry out before his life was sucked out of him.

Panic and chaos erupted. The remaining guards mobilized to slay the man turned monster. But Morzan, now a fledgling vampire, had a superhuman strength on his side and easily killed the guards by ripping their throats open. He would have sunk his fangs into someone else hadn't a rope of fire ensnared around him and tied him up. Said rope came out of the dark mage's pouch.

The vampire hissed this time in pain as the rope burnt his skin. Viren commanded the rope to elevate the monster high in the air for the crowd to see.

"Nrub!" there was a demonic screech and the vampire was no more, completely consumed by the fire rope.

Viren stumbled but kept himself up. Any other day, that spell would have drained him considerably. But being a Ghoul, apparently gave him a resistance to the withdrawals of casting powerful spells. Another advantage he intended to make good use of.

The crowd was uneasily pacified, some thanking the High Mage for ending the threat, most begging for answers. Discreetly, he nodded to the guard who had remained safely by Viren's side, Varney. That had been his cue:

"It was just like Prince Callum's curse." the corrupt soldier shouted loud and clear. Enough for some of the people to hear and seeding more rumors.

"Please, calm yourselves!" Viren called out and was pleased to see the folk doing so. "I understand what you have witnessed was horrifying, but I promise we, the royal court, will find an explanation. What you saw tonight was an attempt of Xadian magic to intimidate us. I ask you all to retire to your houses, orderly. I repeat, this threat has ended. Tomorrow, I vow, the royal court will deliver an answer."

The civilians hesitantly did as ordered, some paying their gratitude to the mage one final time. It was clear they saw Viren as the hero of the day. Said hero looked regrettably at the corpses of the guards and the attacked civilian. It was tragic, but…

Everything went according to plan.

"You there!" he ordered Varney, the last surviving guard. "Coordinate the people to arrange for the burials." he pointed to the corpses.

Viren proceeded to hastily walk back to the castle, on the pretext of calling an emergency meeting of the council to decide what to tell the people on the next morning. Though he schooled his expression as one of urgency, inwardly he was smiling in success.

"Well, Opeli, you thought the secret I hid to be revealed to the world would be my undoing. Turns out, its another secret kept within these walls that will soon be uncovered." he thought with delight. Today had been a lousy day for Viren. But he was very certain that, between this arranged event, Varney's part in leaking the secret of the cursed princes and Viren's newly acquired powers, tomorrow would be much better.


DELETED SCENE.

"You certainly know a lot about werewolves." Rayla stated, arms crossed. The target of her insinuation, Lujanne, bowed lightly.

"Why thank you, young lady."

"Especially for someone who spends all of her time cooped up here, contemplating your navel." Rayal's sight moved to Ezran and Ellis, who were playing far away, unaware they were being watched by the older elf. "Is eavesdropping on wee children a hobby of yours?"

Lujanne shrugged. "Not usually. I'd much rather scare them until they need a new change of pants. But this particular case might become…interesting."
"Interesting how? As in two wee little kids getting a crush?"

"Oh, much more than that if Ezran's little quirk is factored in." Lujanne sported an impish smirk.

Rayla cursed something in her native tongue. "Ugh, moon mages are all the same. Vague to a fault. Why don't you just say what you mean, plainly?"

"As you wish. A fun fact about lycanthropos: their saliva didn't just carry healing properties, but the abilities that lycanthropy gives. Meaning, if another elf consumed a werewolf's saliva, they would gain the reflexes and senses of a wolf, though never the transformation. And, sadly, the effects would be only temporary."

Rayla blinked, a weird expression. "So, werewolves invited other elves to drink their spit?"

"Oh, no. The process was far more passionate and pleasurable. Just a little bit of kissing was enough."

Rayla nodded slowly, her cheeks a touch pink. "Yes, that would make a lot more sense…"

Unfortunately, Lujanne continued. "But wolves, being pack creatures, were certain to take things further. Much, much further if you know what I mean."

It took the youth three full seconds to take her meaning. Her blush increased and she turned back awkwardly. "Ugh, sorry I asked you to be more clear. Good night!"


I'm back! Sorry to say that the bulk of this chapter has been done for weeks, but the last part with Ezran was getting complicated. I wanted to write him having a revelation of the right way to open his moon arcanum, but nothing seemed to add up. Then I figured that would just rush things and decided to drop it for the future. Viren, on the other day, has had a much more profitable day.

As for the references in this chapter; the soldier Varney is a Castlevania series reference; Morzan Zar'roc is a 'Inheritance Cycle' reference; Aaravos's speech is a reference from Dracula Untold movie; and the concept of 'Ghouls' was adapted from the 'Masquerade Bloodlines' videogames.