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The following is a work of fanfiction: there is no intent of this author to violate, transgress, profit from or infringe upon the Copyright and Intellectual Property (IP) rights of the parent Copyright or IP holders of characters, events or locations belonging to the same which may be contained within this work. To reiterate; this is a Derivative Work meant to be used under Fair Use as described in 17 U.S.C. § 101 and § 107.

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The Sons of Efrafa

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"Shalom, Mrs. De la Coure."

"Shalom, Jacob! It's good to see you. Come in. How is your mother?"

"Doing quite well. She and Kadir have really been getting along. I wouldn't be surprised if he proposes to her soon, so that's going to be rather exciting. How is your father doing?"

"As well as a 92-year-old lion can be expected. I don't know what you, papa, and Mister DuPrey are going to be talking about, but I'll respect your privacy. Just remember not to get him too agitated; he's on a new battery of heart medication. You in particular: I know how much of a troublemaker you were."

"Are those fresh mulberry pies I smell?"

"Yes?"

"Then I make no promises; your pies should be considered a controlled substance."

Chapter 16

Dusan Loewe was comfortably reclined in a massive easy chair, sipping a cup of tea, while Jacob was seated in a high-backed paisley chair that he assumed was meant for members of the Flock who came to visit. Across the relatively low coffee table in the middle of the sitting room, were Jean-Pierre DuPrey and Jeannette Deaux seated side by side in a near comically oversized loveseat. A quiet had settled over the group until Sasha De la Coure had left and locked the door behind her. After a moment, Jean-Pierre leaned forward and set down his tea cup.

"Emanuel, how much do you know about me?"

That question gave him pause; after the attack on Matilda, when Rachel Daveed had asked that same question, he had considered calling some of his friends in the LoNF's SID. Ultimately, he chose to honor his words to Rachel and simply trust Jean-Pierre.

"Well, I know that Jean-Pierre DuPrey isn't your birth name, though it is your legal one. I know you hold dual citizenship with Polis Zootopia and the Kingdom of Aragon by way of service in the Aragont Foreign Legion. I know you and Ms. Deaux know each other from before that time of service, so you probably attended Southeastern University's Baton Rouge campus in the Louisiana Territory, and that you are likely from that area based on your accent, which is decidedly not Aragont."

Jean-Pierre and Jeannette blinked at him and looked at one another.

"That's…actually a lot more than most people figure out."

"I'm a brute, not a dunce." Jacob sipped his own tea.

"Well, what I have to tell you deals mostly with my life before the Legion. For starters, as you said, my birth name isn't Jean-Pierre DuPrey; it's…"

"Isaac Mauser, you get in here this instant!"

I was an only child of two working parents. I didn't know what a Hysterectomy was, or what an emergency C-section meant. I just knew that I was never going to have any siblings. That's probably why I'm alive today.

"Mo-om, I wanted to play hide-and-stalk!"

My parents weren't cruel to me, but I always got the sense that I was…less, than they wanted. So, they compensated; best school, best food, and high expectations to match.

"You can play with the Wallace boys, but you keep away from those weak little Pudleys! You don't want to catch their weakness, do you?"

I didn't know why they seemed to hate pigs, and deer; really anything smaller than them, but expected me to play with the children of their friends, who treated me the way my parents treated the Pudley family.

"But mom they just pick on me!"

"Then you get strong enough, so they can't! What are we?"

"We are Hunters."

"That's right, we are hunters! And among Hunters, only the strong survive!"

Jacob could only stare in shock.

"You were, born into the Society?" He gaped at the mammals around him.

"Jacob," Jacob looked at the elderly lion, "…you are fiercely proud of your heritage, and rightly so. It shines from within you like a beacon, but I fear it blinds you as well, for you cannot fathom why everyone does not revel in their great history."

Jacob's mind turned to all the times he had gotten into arguments in the last year, and realized that in most cases, it was with and/or about someone either dismissing or rejecting the importance of family history, his or theirs. He thought to the surprise he regularly felt when finding out people outside Foxburough had rich heritages they celebrated in private: Hopps' Caledonian and Austrian roots, or Clawhauser's Europan and South African family. He realized that he glorified his family's history so much that he felt personally offended if others did not share his views on culture.

Jacob turned back to the couple on the loveseat.

"My apologies Jean-Pierre, please continue."

While I didn't understand a lot, I did know that my parents were the least disappointed in me when I excelled, so I joined every sport that exemplified the individual: Track and Field, wrestling, boxing. I also studied as much as I could, to get the best grades, the most awards. It was never enough.

"But dad, the coach said if I continued to be, 'unsportsmamlike', I'd be disqualified to compete in the regionals!"

"Don't give me that Essende drivel! If a mammal is in your way, you put them down, and if you have them down, you keep them there because that's where they belong! If you're not strong, then you're weak, and a weak mammal is Essende!"

Things continued like that until I was 13. I was, well I was like you, Emanuel, when I first met you: resentful, hurting and confused. I poured all that out on one of the Wallace pups one day; Michael, their eldest, and his two brothers were picking on me again for standing up for Eustace, a goat kid the Bannerman wolves had adopted.

"Is the runt feeling lonely? Do you want the Essende for company!"

"Maybe he wants someone to love him; no one else would! Your parents should have just put you down!"

I could claim a lot of things as the cause for what happened next, but the truth was I came out that day looking for a fight. I'd seen the Wallaces fight before, and I knew how they worked; I came in with a plan, and it started, and ended with Michael on the ground at my feet. I did as my dad had insisted, and I poured all my anger and confusion into hurting him. It worked, too. He got maybe one hit in before I laid him out with a fractured muzzle.

"Stay down you stupid Essende mutt! That's where you belong! What are you two looking at? You want to join him?!"

They ran, just like I expected them to; their strength was in their brother, and without him, they folded. I on the other paw, was dreading going home; mother and father always deferred to the Wallaces, so I expected that I was going to be in for it for breaking his jaw. Little did I know…

"Ohh, I am so proud of you, Isaac!"

"Well done, son. I never would have dreamed you could rise to the occasion, but here you are! You are a Hunter, my boy!"

I had been so starved for praise before then, that the backhanded compliments from my parents were easy enough to look past. As far as we were concerned, I had arrived. Little did I know what that entailed.

There was a gathering, called the Conclave, in a lodge deep in the Bayou; an old timber frame structure with no electricity, no running water, and no roads. It was decorated with red and black banners and lit with torches. There were sconces that just spewed a mild smoke, that made my head feel fuzzy.

We must have walked five miles. My parents insisted on doing so on all fours, and who was I to argue, now that they had accepted me. We started meeting other families, coming the same way, including the Bannermans with Eustace in tow. The Wallaces were also there, but they kept to the back, and Michael wasn't with them. They ended up moving away by the end of the month, and I wouldn't see Michael again for five years.

"Now Isaac, remember to sit up straight; We are Hunters! We bow to no one!"

"All pay heed! Der Adolph speaks to you!"

"Wir sind Jaegern!"

"My people, we gather in the shadow of a corrupt, and decadent world."

"Wir sind Jaegern!"

"But even now, there are those who would keep the true ways!"

"Wir sind Jaegern"

"Let those who are to be recognized, come forward!"

There were two others besides myself who were brought up to the dais, to stand in front of a paw hewn stone altar and introduced to the assembly. There was a smell of death in the air, but I tried to put it out of my mind.

"Now, there is one among us, who is to be blooded. Let Hezekiah Bannerman come forward and present his offering!"

Hezekiah did come forward, pushing Eustace in front of him, all the while, the assembled mammals chanted, 'Wir sind Jaegern!'

"The weak are culled, to protect the strong!"

"Wir sind Jaegern!"

"The Essende are sacrificed, to feed the Jaegern!"

"Wir sind Jaegern!"

Eustace was picked up and placed on the altar. Even though he was afraid, he didn't struggle. His eyes though, his eyes pleaded, with his adopted brother, with me. Hezekiah, he…

Jean-Pierre was shaking in Jeannette's arms; whether it was in fear or anger, Jacob couldn't tell. Rabbi Loewe was equally shaken, tears flowing from his closed eyes. Almost without willing to, Jacob spoke.

"Cigdem smoke clouds the senses. There is a bronze blade, a single stroke. The sacrifice is silenced, but not stilled. A golden bowl catches the blood. The newly blooded drinks deeply, while the supplicants are anointed. The body is taken to be rendered for the feast to come."

The others stared in shock at Jacob's outburst.

Jacob looked into his tea cup as if searching for something. "I didn't just decide to investigate Bellwether because she gave me the willies."

After a moment, he continued.

"Efrafans have a legend; that we became an independent people after Ephraim Stihrath-rah, of the line of Ephraim, had a vision that prompted him to rebel against the Purrsian King Darius. Ever since that time, visions have guided us. We take great care to note signs and portents when they happen. When they do, we seek out those who can best help us to understand. When I was returning from my meeting with the now former mayor, I had a waking dream of a great granite hall lined with torches, incense censers and banners in red, black, and gold. There was a great host chanting, 'Wir sind Jaegern', as a wolf murdered a sheep in the manner I… well you know."

Jeanette furrowed her brow. "You want us to believe that you had a magical vision guiding you on, what? A quest?"

Jacob could see the frustration in her eyes. He knew well what it felt like to be mocked for personal tragedy that others didn't understand. He was prepared to try to explain, when the Rabbi spoke again.

"That is the very nature of faith." The old lion leaned back in his chair.

"We're not talking about religion, we're talking about seeing ghosts on the subway!" There was an almost frantic air to her voice; the sound of a rationalist being presented with claims of the impossible. That it was happening while discussing the unspeakable could not be helping the matter.

"Are not all who are now called 'Saints', supposed to have been guided by visions, and then were later seen after their deaths in conjunction with some miracle? Among the Eweden, there are many prophets, most of whom were of common stock. Do not discount God's paw at work in your life. These are dark times, and his light is needed now, more than ever."

Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm not sure I like being compared to a prophet or a Saint any more than I liked Pater Tatapolis comparing me to an Apostle; their stories usually don't end well, and life's scary enough without God personally getting involved." He turned to face the two on the love-seat. "Anyway, Jean-Pierre," the catamount visibly sagged into Jeannette in relief at being called by his Aragont name, "…you didn't turn into a baby-eating Brown-shirt, so I'm guessing there's more to your story? You can skip the gruesome details."

I had thought that the 'festivities' that followed were as horrible as it got, but the worst, for me that is, came the next day.

The TV showed the Bannerman family gathered behind a podium, with multiple police and news mammals surrounding them. Mrs. Bannerman spoke with a shuddering breath, as her husband gave her support.

"Please, if you know anything about Eustace's whereabouts, I beg you, call us!"

She turned into her husband's shoulder, and everyone was looking at the distraught couple, save Isaac, who sat rigid next to his parents on the couch. He was looking at Hezekiah, who in turn was trying not to sneer in contempt. He dared not look left or right when he heard his parents chuckle at the display of false grief.

Isaac's tail bristled when his father put a paw on his shoulder.

"Don't worry son, one day you'll be blooded too!"

Isaac had the beginnings of a plan, but he needed time.

"I thought you said we were hunters."

Isaac's parents recoiled.

"Isaac, what are you talking about?"

The young catamount poured his derision for all his parents had taught him into his words.

"Last night; that wasn't a hunt! Zeke's parents went to an orphanage and bought a goat to have slaughtered!" He hopped up from the couch. "They might as well buy a University of the Republic of Texas Diploma, then crow about how smart their boy is." He turned to his parents. "If this is what it means to be a Hunter, then I want no part of it."

There was a palpable fear in the two elder mountain lions.

"Now son, let's not do anything rash…"

"No!" Isaac lashed the air with his bared claws. "I will not have my future bought for me, or decided for me, or mapped out for me. I will be a hunter on my own terms, or not at all!"

Amazingly enough, it worked; from that day on, my parents let me choose my own path, though not for any moral reasons They were still convinced I would become a great Thule Hochjaegern, the ruling elite of the Society from whom DerAdolph ischosen. I used my new latitude to spend as much time away from home as possible. I sailed on both the US Brig Champlain and the teaching Schooner Ocelot; I attended every camp that could be thought of during the summer, and during the school year I became a member of a Silver Gloves Boxing club in addition to school sports. Over the course of those three years, I learned that so much of what I had been taught was baseless. Herbivores and omnivores, what I had been taught to call Essende, were as strong and as dignified as any carnivore.

When I learned that colleges didn't actually need me to graduate high school, just pass their entrance exams and have a high enough SAT score, I drilled the tests and got accepted to SEU by my 16th birthday. Before you ask, I do have a degree through the International University.

I spent that first year dodging fraternity recruiting efforts, while trying to figure out how I was going to escape what I saw as my destiny. That's when I met Jeanette. At the time, I wanted to just prove my parents wrong, so I tried to get her to go out with me. It took a full semester before she agreed, but that year was one of the happiest in my life.

It couldn't last though. The Grand Conclave, the ceremony where I would be expected to become a 'Blooded' member, to become Alf, was coming up. My parents knew I was spending time with Jeanette. They thought I was luring her in, to bring her as an offering. Jeanette on the other hand, wanted to move our relationship forward: she wanted to meet my parents, something I was absolutely opposed to, but I dared not tell her why. She thought I was hiding her, which I was but not for the reasons she assumed. We had a major fight the beginning of my Junior year. That was when Michael Wallace came back into my life.

Breaking up with Jeanette really messed me up, or I would have noticed him starting that year. He noticed me, though, and he noticed Jeanette. He, like my parents, thought I was luring her in, and decided to steal her for himself, to take what he felt was his rightful place in the Society. It was a month later when I saw them, sitting under a tree on the student mall.

Isaac looked on helplessly as Jeanette sat beside the Thule wolf while laughing at some joke he had told her, unsuspecting of the danger she was in. He waited until Michael left, presumably to go to his next class, then came over to Jeanette.

"Jean, I need to talk to you!"

The doe didn't bother looking up from her text book.

"Maybe, but I don't need to talk to you; please leave."

"Dammit Jean, please! I know Michael, He's dangerous!"

She turned so her back was to him. "Oh, really?! And I suppose I should run back to your arms for safety, right?"

"No, I want you to keep away from both of us because I'm dangerous too!"

Jeanette spun around, but whatever she was going to say died on her lips when she saw the fear in Isaac's eyes.

"We are, both of us, the children of monsters." Isaac sagged to his knees in front of her. "I've spent the last five years trying to get away from my family, my history; but Michael revels in it. He needs you to reclaim his place with our, our people. I'm begging you, please keep away from both of us. I don't even care if you hate me for the rest of your life, as long as that life isn't measured in months."

She looked into his eyes, trying to find answers. They were both startled when they heard Michael call for her. At that, Jeanette gathered her books and swiftly headed for her dorm building. Isaac left as soon as he was sure she wasn't being followed.

I spent the next week trying to keep tabs on Michael; my attempts to do the same for Jeanette nearly got me arrested by campus police when one of her Sorority sisters called in, saying there was a stalker following them into the library. She spent a lot of time there after our meeting. I can't say I blame them. I was scared, and that made me sloppy; sloppy enough to lose track of Michael one day, the day my parents called to let me know the date and time of the Grand Conclave, and to have my, 'Offering' ready. When I went to track him down, I was met by Edna, a slip of a brown bear and Jeanette's roommate.

"I don't know what she's thinking, even having me talk to you after you broke her heart, but Jeanette wanted me to tell you she was meeting Michael at the LSU Rural Life Museum, so you can just, hey!"

Isaac was off like a shot, making his way to the 430-acre living history exhibit. When he arrived, he started searching around. Soon, he heard voices.

"Baby, I'm glad you saw reason and ditched that runt!" The catamount homed in on the voice of the grey wolf. "I promise you, my parents will love to have you, for dinner."

"Aww, you sweet talker you!" There was something off in Jeanette's voice; she was louder than normal, her diction more precise. "Can you tell me something about them before we meet?"

Isaac silently made his way to the roof of a nearby reproduction barn downwind of the pair.

"Anything babe."

Isaac had to stifle the urge to growl at the disingenuous canid. Once he reached the peak, he looked down on the two mammals below him.

"Are y'all really part of the Thule Society?" Both Isaac and Michael were shocked by the question; that was when he saw Jeanette was wearing a Blue-Tusk™ ear piece. "I mean, like the real Thule Society: murdered 10 million mammals in the '30s and '40s, and not just some lame cult trying to pretend the last 12,000 years of social and cultural development didn't happen."

Michael snarled in rage. "You stupid Essende whore! We are Hunters! Killing you is what we are made to do, just like dying is what…"

Isaac leapt and tackled the wolf. It became very apparent, very quickly that Michael Wallace was outmatched. In the last five years, Michael had grown, but that was all. Isaac was faster, better in every way that mattered in a fight. His parents would have been proud of their son, had he not been fighting in defense of a deer. For all his skill, however, nothing could train Isaac to take a rock to the temple without falling.

I don't know what he said while standing over me, and I didn't much care. I only hoped Jeanette had gotten away. I was a fool to think that: the daughter of Philippe Deaux, Olympic silver medalist Savate Tireur doesn't run from a fight. I just remember hearing him yelp mid rant, then Jeanette was pulling me onto the porch of one of the exhibit houses, to check my injury.

When the police came, she provided them with an audio recording she had made of the entire confrontation, while insisting I had come to her defense. When the EMT's went to check on Michael, they found that he had died; internal hemorrhaging from a well-placed kick to the liver.

I knew there would be consequences; most of the local society would go into hiding, and with my admission to the police about my history, plus telling them where and when the Grand Conclave was to happen, I was a marked mammal.

Jean-Pierre settled into Jeanette's comforting arm.

"I don't know if my decision was really for the best, but that was when I decided to join the Aragont Legion Etrangere; Jeanette was too high profile, but the Society might still come after her, if they thought they could get to me through her."

Jeanette lightly tapped the puma on the back of the skull, then kissed his temple.

"Stupidly gallant is what it was; I was heartbroken when you left with nothing but that stupid note." They looked lovingly at one another for a moment, then turned to Jacob.

"So, there you have it." Jean-Pierre huffed out. "I am the son of the Thule Society. Can you still work with me? I'll understand if you can't."

Jacob set his cold tea cup down. "I'll tell you, if you'll answer one question for me." When Jean nodded, Jacob leaned forward, and locked eyes with the big cat. "If it turns out that your parents are involved in this latest outbreak of Thule influence, would you be able to arrest them?"

Jean didn't even flinch. "Without hesitation."

Jacob hopped out of his chair. "Well then, there's only one thing to do; let's hunt some monsters!"

There was a gentle snore from the easy chair.

Jacob chuckled while shaking his head. "Right after we get Rabbi Loewe to bed; old lions deserve their rest, after all."