7th Dubhlem, Year 34 AF

Work at the castle has been slower than usual, with less new volumes to work through giving me more time to read.  The scar her Majesty gave me still itches, and I still wonder why I am one of the "fortunate few" to partake in her blood.  I've surmised that it is because I am not human, that there is something different about my blood that tastes unique to her.  All it means to me now is that she owns me as her subject, but in exchange I have food and shelter.  There are worse lives than this.

Elliot and I have been meeting almost every day, whenever I have a chance to slip away from my duties.  Since our first meet two weeks thence, he has become a gentle light in the bitter storm I have found myself in.  He talks very little about himself, only confessing that he is not from this land, but somehow I feel much more willing to open myself up to him because of that.  His patience astounds me, to put up with someone like me, and even though I have asked him often if I ever bore him, he always tell me I never do.

The thoughts in my head are less than usual.  Still they exist incessant and chattering, but now I have days where they keep silent, and for that I am thankful.

        "So what did you do as a scribe?" asked Elliot watching the waves.

        "I travelled to different realms," said James chewing on some bread, "my tribe allowed me to leave so I could expand on our understanding."

        "How did that go?"

        "Not terribly well, do you want some food?"

        "Sure, thanks."  He took some of the bread and slipped it into his hood.  "God the sea looks beautiful."

        "Really?" James gestured to the gaping view.  "This, is beautiful to you?"

        "It's been so long since I've watched the ocean just...it calms me."

        "Where were you before?"

        "Someplace with no ocean.  That was hell, but let's hear more aboot you, what do you do round here?"

        "I gather books," James kept eating, "I collate volumes, put books back on shelves that the nobles leave out-"

        "You sound like a waiter."

        "I practically am, they hardly ever clean up after themselves the dithering bastards."

        "Hhhahahahaha, yeah I've known people like that."

        "What did you used to do?"

        "I was a cook."  Elliot tapped his head.  "Make a damn good stew, that was my specialty."

        "Really?" the lemming grinned.  "So this food must be terrible for you."

        "Ehh, I've had worse, this is at least edible, could be licking moss off the walls."

        "Ohoh no, that would be terrible."

        "So if you can travel to different worlds," he took another bite, "how come you don't just leave?"

        "Well...the Art, as we call it, does not work here."

        "Why not?"

        "There's something about this realm," James looked to the sea, "the air, the fog it's so oppressive that I cannot pierce with my technique."

        "Maybe you had the wrong book?"

        "No, it's not like that.  I had a blank volume to work with, crafted it to attune to the Art, made my special ink for it but it just won't work.  This place is like a prison, perfect for me,  the fog as thick as a tombstone where nothing from the great beyond can come to me."

        "How does it work?" Elliot leaned closer.  "You just write aboot another world?"

        "I sense another realm from beyond," James lifted his hand and closed his eyes, "the words come to me, and I describe the realm exactly.  I start writing them down and the vividness comes through and then, the book opens to that realm."

        "Wow...they said reading was like its own adventure but you just took that literally huh?"

        "Hmhm yes, I suppose I did," the lemming looked back to him, "but in this place no words come to me, thanks to this wretched ether."

        "Maybe there's a place where the fog is less?"

        "If there is such a place then where would I go?  I'm an outcast, if I returned home they would surely kill me and they'd be right to."

        "Well..." Elliot shifted his legs, "you must've made some friends elsewhere right?"

        "There was...haaah."  He clutched his head.  "Sorry, I'm getting tired, I should head back and rest before my duties."

        "Alright, thanks for coming."  They shook hands in parting.  "Take it easy James, I'm always here."

        "Thank you  Elliot," he stood up dusting his knees, "I might see you after, but if not I will see you tomorrow."

They waved each other off as the lemming headed back to the castle, a smile drifting on his face for the briefest moment.

You lied to him.

His face soured again.

You know why you can't leave this place.

A snarl came through as he tried humming the song again.

You don't deserve to leave this darkness, you'll wander forever just as your ancestors did.

        "MMMM-HMMM, HMM-HMM-HMM-AAAAAH!"

With hands over his ears he sang louder against the embittered voice, throwing his mind into a mental debate about elemental properties to distract it as he started arguing against himself all the way back.  The thoughts remained but turned quieter with each step, thrumming the back of his mind and only coming to the front if he ever acknowledged them.  Eventually he found himself in the library again, Horsham still scrubbing the bookcases with the same cloth.

        "Alrigh' Jim!"

        "How are you?" he nodded.  "Need some help reaching the higher spots?"

        "Naaah nah is fine, you do yer thing, readin' an' such."

        "I do plenty more than that."

        "I'd certainly 'ope so, too much knowledge maketh a madman, try sayin' that three times fast!"

        "Hah, explains how you're the sanest person here."

        "Awww I'm chuffed ya think me sane, that or yer standards are madder than the blood!"

        "Hmhmhmhm!"

With a wink and a click of his teeth, he turned almost skipping before his leg suddenly clenched with pain as he hobbled on his cane, taking a moment to calm himself and grab his register of volumes accounted.  Walking round to every table, he made certain every tome was put back in its place, with the Sanctorum Undines noted as being part of her Majesty's personal possession.  Various nobles would ask him for selections, as he rose up and down on ladders that rolled on wheels across the shelves.

        "Boy."

Asquith's sharp tone cut through his ear as he looked down from his shelf.

        "We are moving some of the volumes to storage, I require your hands."

        "Of course," he clambered down, "which ones?"

        "A few grimoires that are no longer necessary, the lore is out of date."

        "Understood, I should be getting more soon, my supplier feels very confident about finding the other Undines."

        "Excellent."

The lady in white led her to a whole section of the apocrypha, books lined up in crates as the lemming took one with his staff placed inside it.  Asquith with a few other helpers took them out the library, across the frigid parapets and down stairways through halls of statues with unflinching eyes of solemn austerity.  At the depths of the castle, James was surprised by the sudden drop of sweat when he encountered an old storage room that lied several doors down from the furnace, the roaring surge of amber flames filling the corridor and shining upon their hoods.

        "At least it is warm," muttered James dropping his crate, "can we not sell them if they are-"

        "No," Asquith stabbed her finger on his head, "they remain here, until needed."

        "Why would they be needed, who would want them?"

        "Scholars would have need, but they have fallen silent since closing their doors."

        "Why is that?" he walked back with her.

        "The leader of the college, who once worked closely with the church, has sealed off its gates to all except those who apparently know a key phrase.  Would we know such a phrase, we would have handed these codices over already."

        "I see...such a pity, for such works to go unread."

        "You HAVE read them yes?" the woman sneered down at him.  "Wretched contemptuous profanity."

        "But they are words of knowledge still, and knowledge for whatever reason should not be forgotten, lest history be doomed to repeat."

        "And what of the knowledge that CAUSES history to repeat?"

His eyes darted as she smiled, patting his head as they walked to the furnace room where the servants sat in blissful rest.  Despite the cold having little effect on their cursed bodies, the sweltering heat was a godsend as they stared upon the eternal flames, an old iron beast that bellowed its fury like a dragon in its prison of steel.  The moment he stepped inside the room James suddenly turned nostalgic for the days in Oddclaw's realm, the tropical seasons kissing his face, the call of beasts screeching to the night.

        "You may rest for a while," said Asquith before departing, "I have no need of you for now since most of the accounting is done."

        "Thank you madame," James bowed sitting with them, "your kindness is greatly appreciated."

        "You shall return upstairs when the clock strikes twelve, be late and your funds shall be deducted."

Laying himself down upon the bare stone floor, the lemming sighed as the other servants bantered between each other reminiscing of younger days.  A few times in the burning ire he saw their faces, and then immediately wished he hadn't, the roaring warmth making him sleepy as he yawned and stretched on the floor like a feline.  The babbling of others and the shovelling of coal combined with the crackling of wood, gave a strangely pleasant atmosphere and a small blessing he could not waste, his eyes closing as he drifted off to slumber.

There he stood in a splendid wood, a forest of sumptuous green where birds flitted overhead and the flowers bloomed beneath his feet.  With light springing steps and the summer heat on his back, James felt a smile return to his heart as he searched for a song playing somewhere in the glade, a voice familiar came looming with deep rich tones and a guttural rasp underlying with the scents of leather scale.  He dashed through the birch and under the elm, searching for the voice who made his heart swell.

        "Chanoch?  Ch-chanoch, are you there?!"

The song grew louder, not enough to hear the words but enough to know whence it came with a burbling in his ears.  A bramble patch stood in his way that he suddenly carved with a blade he never knew, snicker-snack through and through as the way opened to a deep hollow.  The woods turned darker with thickening trees, venturing into what he found was a cavern where the light from his fingers flickered brief before failing to ignite.  He stared at his hand in confusion, his fingers numb as he stared upon the walls where he saw paintings of other creatures like himself.  Trapped in the tunnels beneath the earth, they wandered single file through fire and misery, blades of steel above jagged pits as he shook his head and hurried on to hear the song.

        "Chanoch?!  CHANOCH, I'M HERE WHERE-...wh-where are you?!"

The light at the end of the tunnel grew thick as he found himself in a winter's night, cold and brittle with not a breeze stirring the snow.  The moon shone high above his head with purest gold, a haunting eye watching his every move as he pushed through the dead branches and barged through the drifts.  The song kept playing as he found the edge of a lake, the water a silent azure.  He saw his back turned to him, the lizardman in armour of shimmering steel and his tail round the stump that he sat upon.  There was no guitar, but the music kept playing as James walked close with a swell in his chest.  Then it started to fade the creature turned, the flesh from his face completely gone.

        "With eyes of flame, come whiffling through."

        "Wh-what, Ch-chanoch?!"

He stood up as the wind became a howling scream.

        "You left him dead, and with its head, you went galumphing back."

        "N-NO!  NO CHANOCH WH-WHAT, HAPPENED TO YOU?!"

        "Hast thou slain, the Jabberwock?"

        "What...what do you-GHRRKH!"

His lover grabbed his throat before he could flinch, tightening claws wrapped round his neck with half-eaten skull staring down with burning eyes.

        "Beware the Jabberwock, my love."

        "GH-RHHRHRKH!"

        "The jaws that bite, the claws that CATCH."

        "A-AAAAAAAARRRRGHRKH-KHRHRRRK!"

Chanoch crushed his throat with a single crack, turning James limp in his clutch as he raised him aloft.  His eyes flickered with struggling fear, whispering pleas as the lizardman leaned close with his skull smiling upon him.

        "He'll leave you dead, and take your head...and the moon's wrath shall outgrabe."

His head slowly twisted from the bone, stretching out before James' face where he saw eyes peering from every crack of his deformed skull.  All of them looked at his dying moments, before the red gleam of the sky consumed them both, blinding his tears with a roaring ruby haze.

        "OI, geddup!"

James opened his eyes as a hooded servant bowed over him.

        "S'almost twelve, we gotta get back!"

        "U-um, right...thank you."

Stumbling back on his feet, he grabbed for his staff and limped back to the library.  A darkness drifted through his mind again, his nightmare churning from the corner of his eye as he slumped over the table filing accounts, the cold from that dismal wood following him through to the waking world.  Shambling through his duties, James let his hands take over and his mind wander off taking brief moments of rest to read up on books and lose himself in sordid fantasies.  Time dragged on with the screech of the blizzard, the windows rattling as he caught the sight of wings deathly white sweeping past before he was called.

        "Boy."

He sighed before turning to Sir Crow in his steel splendour.

        "Her Majesty requires your service."

        "For what?"

        "Translation.  Parts of the Undine are in an eldritch script, she requires a second pair of eyes."

        "Oh...understood."

Following the knight to the Queen's abode, their cloaks fluttered in the wind with Crow's crimson cape almost slapping the lemming's face as he walked behind.  Returning to the throne room as his arm became tense, James knelt before his master once more as the knight did so in turn, her pale body still unmoved from her throne.

        "Your Majesty, what is thy wish?"

        "The grimoires," she swept her hand to them on the empty throne, "we hath noted the parts which escape our attention."

        "As you wish, may I approach?"

She nodded as he stepped up to take one book, finding her bookmarks and taking out his own notebook from the satchel to scan through the difficult language.  Then he realised the language was surprisingly modern, much moreso than he expected as he blinked.

        "I...this whole section, your Majesty?"

        "Correct," she nodded.

        "...forgive me for asking but, what part of this is giving you issue?"

        "This entire chapter in its debased candour," she swept her hand, "a surprising but delectable entry riddled with the common tongue."

        "Ah...huh, o-ohhh, OHHH I see, yes."

He scribbled quickly and parsed through the words, translating them to an older traditional dialect for the queen to comprehend.  It took him little more than half an hour to cover the whole chapter, per book as James clipped his translation into the volumes.

        "We are pleased with thy gift of scrivening, again, dear James."

        "Thank you, your Majesty," he bowed, "I must admit those chapters seemed strangely out of place."

        "The Sanctorums were compiled by several scholars of various origin.  Twould not be so forward to assume that one or two mayhaps be of the vox populi."

        "I heard they are from a college that was forbidden to enter, yes?"

        "Correct," she rubbed the arms of her seat, "hence thine search of the Undines.  Without scholars who were once good compatriots, our circle draws thin, and our research soon wanes."

        "Is there a specific field, or a certain ritual that you are seeking-UGH!"

        "Speak not of her Majesty's intent," Crow slapped the lemming hard to send him to the floor, "you shall fulfil your task and not another word."

        "Nnngh...y-yes, sir, forgive my impertinence."

        "Take leave," the queen said waving him off, "find the other Undines, and translate any of the common vernacular they wouldst employ."

        "At once, your Majesty."

James took his leave once more, escorted by Crow who kept a hand on his blade sheathed beside his hip.

        "Do you enjoy testing my patience?"

He felt the knight's cold fingers grip his shoulder as they reached the door.

        "Or would you rather enjoy a second limp?"

        "I apologised, sir-A-AAAH!"

Crow grabbed him hard forcing James to turn and face him.  Behind his helm of royal gild the lemming sensed a deep glare of rancorous hate that pierced his mind.

        "I find your questions to our queen too familiar."

        "Is that, what she said?"

        "Her Majesty is my concern, YOUR job is to collect and translate, not offer dividends."

        "N-NNNRGH!" the fingers dug into his shoulder and squeezed the bone.  "I-i was only t-trying to help!"

        "Then remember your place."

The knight shoved him back as he fell to the floor, James catching himself to roll on his side as he groaned pulling himself up.

        "I do...what I am asked to do, sir."

        "As all beasts should," he walked past him opening the door, "be fortunate you have a home with the servants, and not a kennel."

Heading back to the library, James returned to his duties in serving nobles and reading works of accursed literature, from sordid romances of the dead to unspeakable tomes of vile rituals in ancient times.  A lull in visitors gave him time to be absorbed in one particular book that caught his eye, detailing the scholar who visited the castle and brought with them the source of the queen's power.

        "Ere, wot I tell you about too much knowledge?!"

        "It maketh a madman?" James grinned looking up.  "Does it count if I'm already mad?"

        "Ehhh," Horsham shrugged, "I guess if you already are you can't do any worse!"

He flumped down on a chair beside him, showing half his face in the bitter light where lines ran down his pale cheek.

        "Word is you were 'elping the queen wi' them ol' books."

        "Just a translatory issue, nothing much."

        "Well wot they say, these undying wotchacallems?"

        "Hmm, should I be telling you this?" he squinted to his friend.

        "My lips're sealed," he made a zipping motion.

        "Well, it's not like anyone listens to the servants so, from what I gathered, it spoke about how a heart born pure would emerge from the coldest month, and that if one obtained crystallised blood it would strengthen a communion of some sort."

        "Ooof, sounds churchy, don' like that Jim."

        "The other thing I noted was, well, actually relating to this book I'm reading," he showed the page he was on, "the scholar who came with the blood gift, I was wondering why her Majesty was so interested in those books, I think she's trying to discover more of her history."

        "Well thas good innit?" Horsham smiled with jagged teeth.  "Good to know where ya been so you know where yer going."

        "Very true," James nodded, "could do far worse with this knowledge, anyways I'm learning more about this scholar from the college and their name came up a few times in the Undines so I was curious."

        "Found anythin' new?"

        "No, nothing we don't already know."  He looked up sensing an odd quiet.  "Library's rather empty have you noticed?"

        "Oh they're 'aving a party," the servant thumbed upstairs, "one of them baccanals know wot I mean?"

        "Ahh, I thought I smelled wine, don't suppose Kenneth could sneak some down?"

        "Hehaha, if he can then he'll try!"  Horsham wringed his fingers as he sat up.  "Yanno uh, that thing you gambled away."

        "Yes?"

        "You sure you don't...I mean, it seemed really importan-"

        "It is fine."  James nodded.  "Do not worry about it."

        "N-nah, I mean...it just don't sit right with me-"

        "Horsham."

He dropped his voice with a darkening look.

        "It is fine.  That was my choice, and I lost, it is no one else's fault but mine."

        "I-i know but, you shouldn't be throwin' away things like-"

        "IT WAS MY CHOICE!"

He slammed his fist on the table as the library shook.  Eyes of scorn suddenly turned on him from every place as the servant shrunk back in his seat.

        "S-sorry Jim."

        "It...it's fine," James shook his head patting him, "I know you want to help, I'm sorry."

        "N-nah, nah yer right it's...your choice, shouldn't be bothering.  You up fer a game later speakin' of?"

        "Of course, we'll wager low this time, fear not."

Smiling at his friend he watched the cleaner leave, his face souring the moment he turned as James buried his head into the book.

Even in your sacrifice you fail.

        "Shut up," he muttered, "not the time-"

His life would be far easier without you.

        "SHUT...up."

He sighed digging his fingers through his hair.  The rest of the day went by uneventful, despite the malingering voice in his mind that clouded his thoughts as he tried to lose himself in adventure books, daring to dream of brighter things and slowly but surely reminiscing about his days.  Even the fantasies made him mourn for what he lost, as he returned to the dregs of despair and sat in his room with a hollow emptiness in his chest.

        "Ere Jim!" the sound of Horsham came rattling from the door.  "Cards are on, you coming?!"

        "Um...n-no, sorry," he feigned a cough, "I think I'm coming down with something, sorry."

        "Wot, you alrigh', you need sum meds?!"

        "No no I have some, I'll be fine, win some for me alright?"

        "Awww...alrigh' then, I'll come see ya after we're done, rest up good Jim."

He laid back on his bed as the servant walked off, staring up at the cold stone ceiling and wanting to cry but too tired to do so.  He rolled into his sheets and tried to sleep, the nightmare clutching his neck and drifting over his skin, sallow and haggard like his eyes burning a hole in the wall.

Good.

James grabbed his ears.

The first step is to sever your ties from these souls.

        "N-nnnnrgh!"

They will forget you, do not let their hopes linger on your pathetic self.

        "I-...I-i just don't want to-"

You know your place.  In a ditch, buried beyond their reckoning.

        "No...no I...I know what I want, I knew what I was doing."

He rolled to his other side staring at the door.

        "He shouldn't bother, I don't know why he does."

He pities you.  You make him suffer with your presence.

        "I...I-i shouldn't be here."

You should not exist anymore.  For Horsham's sake, for everyone's sake.  It is only the right thing to do.

He struggled to sleep, his chest hurting with a cold weight before the new dawn came to greet him.  It took all of his will to drag himself from his bed, earlier than usual as he took scraps from the kitchen and walked to Elliot's little nook, the sound of his guitar still haunting over the sea.

        "Good morning," James sighed.

        "Hey, good morning," he stopped mid-melody with a hidden smile, "sleep well?"

        "Not really.  I brought some food."

        "Thank you."  He took some of the bread as the lemming sat with him.  "How were things yesterday?"

        "Well...I helped her Majesty translate some old texts that she didn't quite understand, do you know the history of this place?"

        "No but I'd love to hear."

        "The royals of this castle were established centuries ago, there used to be a college of very learned scholars who studied the moon in all its finery."

        "So, astronomers?"

        "Yes," James nodded, "they were once greatly respected, but the church condemned them for sharing secrets not privy to others, including that of the castle, a blood gift of sorts."

        "Blood...gift?" Elliot cringed pulling back.

        "You know not of the importance of blood here?"

        "OH, n-no I know all aboot that, just sounds grisly when you say it like that.  Why did the church condemn these people?"

        "Because the college severed ties with the church," James rubbed his hands, "the founder feared the former church leader's madness so they isolated the college.  In turn the royals fell out of favour because they sided with the college."

        "Hmph, typical."  The stranger plucked a bitter string.  "Always the zealots making other people suffer."

        "W-well, it wasn't so much the church but the leader-"

        "Still a zealot, still a fucking cult."

        "Iiiii take it you are not a fan of the church?"

        "No."

He saw Elliot's eye burn beneath the hood as James rubbed his knees.

        "Well you'll be glad to know we're all enemies of the church here, so you are safe on that."

        "I never felt in danger but, glad to know thank you."

        "Was there a church back where you came?"

        "Sort of," he shook his head, "but not anymore, and good riddance."

        "It's rather new to me I must admit, see back in my realm we never had a church, but we had beliefs and hope to a better future by the unification of tribes."

        "That sounds real nice," the stranger played on to the bridge of his song, "I don't mind whatever people want to believe in, just when an organisation tries to abuse that belief and turn into a hierarchy of greed, that's when it's no longer a religion, but a cult."

        "Yes...well, again, this never happened in my realm but to see it here is rather disturbing."

        "Sorry, I didn't mean to get judgmental-"

        "No no it's fine," James waved his hand, "I enjoy discussing things with you it helps take my mind off things.  What other things did you do back in your realm?"

        "Well, like I said I was a cook, besides that pretty boring."

        "Oh but surely you must-OH!"

The sound of a bell rang as he staggered on his feet.

        "B-bastard, BASTARD I'M LATE!"

        "Sorry," Elliot winced, "time sure flies huh?"

        "Y-yes, sorry, see you tomorrow, OR SOMETIME THIS WEEK!"

Rushing up the stairs James hobbled back to the castle, punching his foot into the snow with cane stabbing the earth as he lumbered up to the lift.  The grinding of gears and the freezing stone made him shiver with panic before he saw the shadow of Sir Crow standing before him at the top.

        "JUST, in time," he snarled with pocket watch in hand.

        "HOOO!  HAAAH!" he staggered forth clutching the shelves.  "Y-yes, yes sir, I am here!"

        "Excellent."  James heard no smile from the knight who swept his cape.  "I hope you shall continue this degree of performance."

        "I will, d-do my best, sir."  He saluted with a grin.  "Ready to seize the day!"

The helmet glowered as he turned away, stepping out to the cold parapets as James clucked his tongue with an urge to hold back a rude gesture before he went to his duties again.  With books resorted and volumes gathered the lemming sat beside the newly-installed window with its fresh latticed front.

        "Boy."  The drawling voice of Tristan came lurking from his side.  "I have a letter for you."

        "Oh, thank you."  He took it from the black-hooded clerk.  "How are you doing?"

        "What?"

        "Just asking, thought it be polite."

        "If I want inane chatter I would have joined the kitchen staff."

The mailman slapped his letter down before turning in a huff, the scribe shaking his head and opening the envelope.  His eyes widened in shock as he lurched from the table.

        "M-madame, madame Asquith!"

He staggered with heaving gasp searching for the lady between the shelves, before a ghostly shade slipped past his foot and she suddenly appeared behind him.

        "Th-the, my, m-my contact, she found the other Undines!"

        "What?!" she blinked with her unbandaged eye.

        "The other three, she found them, I have to go before they're taken!"

She took the letter from him and scanned it briefly.

        "You have the funds?"

        "I made certain to-"

        "I will cover half."  She handed him a wallet with badge and money.  "The Hunt is tonight, traffic will be troublesome, do NOT get involved."

        "Yes," James shook his head, "I shall return soon as possible."

        "Go, hurry!"

Racing down to the stable he grabbed Travers and headed out against the sleet, trampling the snow that turned from slush to dirt as they skirted down the mountain path and galloped down the tombstone lane.  Once they reached the forest, James slowed down as they twisted between the dead trees, the howling call of beasts come shrieking from the city as Travers smelt the flames of purity and the great unwashed crowding at the entrance.

        "COR this Hunt's gonna be great!"

        "Got me pick all sharpened fer them beasts!"

        "ERE, 'ow much they pay fer a head?!"

        "Same as last year ya twat weren't ya there?!"

        "Naw wuz buryin' me nan."

        "Aw shit, my condolences."

        "Nah don' waste yer breath, she were the ol' missus', never liked 'er."

        "HAH, more bread fer you then!"

        "Stupid morons," James shook his head muttering under breath, "they're checking everyone at the gate, alright Travers keep your head calm, let me handle this."

The stallion snorted as they approached, his rider covering his head with a scarf before two hooded guards in robes of white stopped him.

        "Halt!"  A pair of rifles and spears pointed at them.  "What business you have?"

        "I require medicine," said James bowing, "my master's family has taken ill and I must hurry!"

        "With what?"

        "The flu, master's daughter fell in the water and riddled with sickness."

        "A terrible sort," the guard shook her head, "bad fortune to come during the Hunt."

        "I have my orders, please let me through!"

        "Alright, but leave your horse," the other guard motioned him down, "enough beasts roam the city tonight without adding yours."

        "That's fine."

He cantered towards the stable on the city limits where several other horses stood parked, James taking a number tag and patting Travers' face.

        "I shall return soon, be safe."

With a soft whinny the mule snuffled his face as James smiled kissing his snout.  Marching his way through the lemming kept his face covered as he approached the guards and stepped into the city.  The streets were full of ragged-cloth civilians from every walk of life, farmers beside landowners whilst urchins with ribbons hovered around women with parasols.  Bonfires dotted the square with crosses fixed upon them whilst humans strolled past with weapons glinting in the flames, from swords and guns to lances and the odd wooden shield amongst them.  James hurried his pace down the old central street, his cane clacking the cobbles whilst avoiding the men in white, the guardians of the church keeping watch from higher places as he snuck inside a cornershop and quickly paid for a newspaper to cover his face.

        "All coming along?" said one superior outside.

        "Yes sir," the subordinate bowed, "the new clinic says the results are promising."

        "And the blood distribution?"

        "Half the city's been protected."

        "Good."  A heavy sigh came from the priest.  "Let us hope this corruption ends soon."

        "Before other lifetimes are cut short," said the subordinate as James slipped past, "when shall we find a new vicar, sir?"

        "The choir are mediating," said the superior clasping his hands, "I've heard a young woman has made a promising candidate, I forget her name."

        "Do you think she will support the crusade against the castle-"

        "SHH!"  His eyes scowled towards his minion.  "Do not speak of those vermin, you know not what ears are crawling round this city."

        "Surely none of their vile sort are loitering around here."

        "Regardless, the executioners have been formed and they are preparing for after the Hunt.  Once the city has been inoculated for this season, then we shall cleanse those vile heathens."

        "Praise thee."

James left the store once they headed off, holding his breath sharp and making his way down to where the new clinic stood.  The streets were packed full of bodies as the priests gave sermons from the upper levels, ranting about the wretched contagion that washed through the city and infected the hearts and souls of good decent citizens.  James turned away keeping his face hidden from view, stagecoaches parked against the sides where raised avenues stood with houses all along the rows, the lemming squishing himself between carriages as blockades made of wood and steel barred his path.

        "UGH, this lemforsaken city!"

Slipping to the back alley he tried to navigate through the fortified roads where different sections had been walled off to form various routes, doing his best not to talk to anyone as he searched for Beth's shop near the clinic.  The city became a labyrinth of towers, the sounds of clinking glass and shrieking guffaws from inside houses around him as he took a moment to rest next to a butcher's shop.

        "Guh...this, worthless wretched city I am SICK of this hunting malarkey."

He sighed rubbed his leg, throbbing with effort as he pulled out a small packet of food from his satchel and chewed to himself.  The bells started to ring from every corner of the realm, the harrowing call of infernal beasts followed suit as haunting screams trembled across the air, ghastly wails and bloodthirsty roars making James shake his head.

        "Damn it.  It's already started...alright, just stay calm, travel the roofs and stay out of everyone's path."

With foul bloodthirsty cries from both humans and beasts, James ducked into an alley to watch a herd of monstrous wolves fill the streets.  With savage teeth as white as bone and eyes of piercing gold wrapped within black oily fur, the beasts tore through carriages and ripped through barrels as the city folk fought back.  Those who were brave or able came out with shoddy swords and flimsy cudgels strapped alongside sharpened spears.  Blood spilled on the streets as the lemming watched and waited for a gap, the night swarming the cobbles in a sea of fangs that searched around houses for victims to feed upon.  Those who hadn't fortified their homes would pay the price, claws gouging through doors and windows smashed when beasts leapt inside, spraying crimson across the walls amidst harrowed screams from sobbing mothers.  Candles fell, carpets burned, the walls turned red as the people on the streets swung their scythes and plunged their swords into the awaiting horde.

James kept himself far from the madness, skirting through the alleys and climbing onto the roofs to quickly jump from place to place.  Sometimes the gap over streets became too wide, forcing him to summon the will of his body as he felt a spasm familiar through his hands, a crackling spark that caused a burst of wind from his sleeves as he vaulted himself across the breach, like a thief in the night silhouetted between the sun and the moon.  Rolling fast he leapt into a running sprint, a surge of energy briefly taking over him as he watched the chaos run below.

        "GET THE CARRIAGE OUTTA 'ERE!"

        "PUT THE FIRE OUT FER GOD'S SAKE!"

        "NO IT FRIGHTENS THE BEASTS, IT'LL KEEP 'EM BACK!"

        "MY WIFE'S IN THERE YOU BASTARD LET ME GO!"

        "YOU DIE WITH HER OR YOU FIGHT WITH US!"

        "GOD, DAMN YOU FILTHY RATS I'LL KILL YOU ALL!"

Battles raged on across the byways and avenues in small pockets of resistance, barricades falling from ruthless claws and giant bodies smashing through where wolves the size of horses came thundering with giant paws scarring deep into the cobbles.  Along the roofs were giant ravens, squawking in anticipation for the feast to come with glimmering eyes and fidgety talons, the lemming swiftly rushing through a nest of them as they shrieked at his insolence and tried to peck at his eyes before he struck them back with his cane, cracking one in the beak and stabbing another with the blunt tip into its feathered stomach.

The field of chimneys stood before him as he searched for the clinic by the river, the smell of blood turning thick as the corvids became ravenous, not even waiting for the battles to end before they swooped down to pick the fresh entrails left behind by severed humans in the wake of monsters.  The flames rose higher as the burning stench became a miasma, the scribe tightening his mask as he saw some of the wolf-beasts trying to climb up the houses, hobbling faster as he slid down the awnings and found an open window, shutting it tight and dragging an old cupboard in front before he hurried down the stairs.

        "THEY'RE HERE!"

        "BARNETT GET THE GUNS!"

        "HOLD YOUR FIRE, I'M HUMAN!"

James put his hands up as a family of four aimed their weapons upon him.

        "I was running over the roofs, the beasts are coming you have to hide!"

        "Who the HELL are you to come into our house and tell us what to-"

KRRAKK!

        "OH GOD HELP US!"

        "HURRY, NOW!"

He gave his warning as the top floor was breached, the scrabbling of claws thumping above their heads as the family braced themselves whilst James shot out a fierce gust of wind from his hand, pushing the first beast back into the horde as they crumpled on the stairs to buy the family time to escape.  Diving out the back door he ran through the rear passage linking between houses, finally reaching the cul-de-sac where Beth's Bookshop waited.

        "BETH, BETH I'M HERE-"

[b[]i[]KRI-KI-BOOM![/i][/b]

        "OH, SHIT SORRY!  SORRY MASTER JAMES!"

        "DO I LOOK LIKE A SODDING BEAST?!" he shrieked.

        "WELL YOU SHOULDN'T BE 'ERE WHEN THE BLOODY 'UNT IS ON!"

The bookkeeper slammed down her rifle, the bullet hole smoking above James' head in the wall behind him as he shuddered a deep breath stumbling forwards.

        "Still haven't cleaned up I see."

        "I hardly 'ad any time!"

        "It's been two weeks since I last came here!"

        "You dunno wot it's like fer us city folk, all up in yer castle readin' books OOOH it must be such a STRESSFUL-"

        "SHUT UP!"

He snapped with a shuddering fire in his hand as the woman balked against the shelves.

        "Now.  Give me the damn books, and I'll take my leave."

        "...right you are sir."

With a flick of his fingers he turned off his flame, taking the three volumes to put in his satchel as he slapped down his coinpurse.

        "I'm sorry to be so brusque but I have no time to quarrel."

        "Of course, you be on yer way."

        "Are you safe out here?" he looked to the window.  "It was rather easy to come in-"

        "Dooon't you worry master James," she tapped her nose knowingly, "I gots some special scents around the front, beasts don't come near-"

        "And yet you SHOT at me!"

        "Can't be too careful when the Hunt's on!" Beth patted her gun.  "There's blaggers all about dontcha know, that's why I got me barker!"

        "Alright, I must go, take care and be safe!"

Hurrying out the door he searched for the nearest route back, the thoroughfare blocked by corpses and overturned coaches now charred and smoking, drenched with blood across the wheels and the bodies of horses that filled the street.  The call of the beasts rang through the city like the bells from the church, with hollow tongues of mournful reckoning.

        "H-HELP, M-MOTHER HELP!"

        "GET THAT LI'L BASTARD!"

        "YOU CAN'T GET AWAY!"

        "MOTHEEERRR!"

A child's voice screamed from beyond as James felt a pull of his heart.  Climbing onto the roofs where other alleys formed across the slanting eaves, the city was built in multiple tiers with streets on top of other houses, upon which were even more gothic houses forming towers with looming eyes across the endless bridges.

        "MOTHER, MOTHER PLEAAAASE!"

        "STOP THAT DAMN BEAST 'FORE IT CALLS THE OTHERS!"

        "OY, C'MERE WE GOT A DOWNY ONE 'ERE!"

        "MOTHER, M-MOTHER HELP, H-HELP MEEEEE!"

The boy screeched harder with a trembling rasp, James hurrying faster as he caught sight of a shadow running down the alley beneath him.  Three humans chased after, with tricornered hats and wicked weapons of sharp teeth before they reached an empty courtyard, surrounded by empty homes with wrought iron fences.  The child was in a black cloak pushing himself against the wall, the hunters spreading out to box him in as he shivered up into a ball.  One pursuer was wrapped in a long kilt of stale blood; one had tassels of sickly green; and the last wore sleeves of silver ash.

        "Never seen a chavy one before," snorted the red hunter.

        "Not gonna net as much though," the one in grey shook her head, "still make a nice scarf."

        "Or a new pair o' gallies," the green one scraped a saw behind him, "bit queer this one don't fight back."

        "Scared is why," the first hunter tapped his head, "knows he's gonna get garroted."

        "Never seen one so frit, we must be blessed."

They walked closer as the child clutched himself, sobbing howls rumbling from his throat as he covered his face.  Before the hunters could raise their weapons something burst across their backs, a blasting shock of flame that crept through their cloaks as they dodged aside and patted themselves down quick with panic.

        "W-WOT, WOT THE HELL WUZZAT?!"

        "OY, WHO'S PISSIN' AROUND OUT 'ERE!?"

        "Me."

They turned back to the child where James stood between them.

        "Come no further.  If you leave now I shall forget this incident."

        "Who in god's piss're you?!" snapped Hunter Three.

        "Someone who will make you regret harming a child."  His hands pressed upon his cane.  

        "Wh-WHAT?!"  Hunter Two sputtered a chortle.  "Youhuu think that THING's a soddin' brat, you lost yer lamps?!"

        "That thing's no human!" said Hunter One.  "Now piss off you glocky bastard!"

        "I will NOT leave," the lemming thumped his staff into the cobbles, "if you try to harm this child I will destroy you here and now."

        "Ohohoh, lookit this twat!" Hunter Three thumbed with a mocking swish to his friends.  "Think he's flash tryna knap this one from us!"

        "Ohohhh that's his game?!"  Hunter Two clucked her tongue.  "You think we don't know the score, we seen that li'l maggot's face an' trust me it'll look a lot nicer sittin' round me neck!"

        "I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN!"  He swung his cane towards them.  "LEAVE, NOW, or I will stain this court with your blood!"

        "HAWHAHA, this li'l jack?!  Yer barely more than a mite yerself!"

        "Not even that."

The third hunter in jade pulled out a pistol from his cloak

        "You don' even have a barker."  He loomed over him pointing the gun at his face.  "So why don't you stop griddling, an' piss off before I paint the li'l bastard with the meat from yer skull?"

        "How about you die instead?" James pressed the end of his cane against the human's chest.  "Unless you back away with that pathetic toy."

        "Ohoh, you fink this is a toy?"

The click of the hammer pulled back.

        "Shoulda walked away li'l runt-GHRRRKH!"

        "Funny."  James smiled beneath his mask.  "I was just thinking the same thing."

The man felt his heart suddenly burst when it was ripped in half, severed in twain as his friends looked on with shock at the lancing blade that pierced through his back and stretched out like a serpent's tail.  Red dripped off the shards of steel connected to a wire that pulled straight back inside the hunter before James swung upwards with a lashing strike across the face, the hunter collapsing into a puddle as the sucking wound pulsed his last spasms, his gun falling to the ground before it went off in a deafening blast that startled his friends.

        "H-HOH, SH-SHIT!"

        "WOT THE BASTARD HELL ARE YA DOING?!"

        "Teaching thugs like you a lesson."

The staff retracted to its normal self as he looked back towards the child.

        "Run, hide somewhere nearby, I'll handle them."

        "Y-you...th-th-thank you!"

        "OI, GET BACK 'ERE!"

The red-kilted hunter tried to rush after him as James swung out his cane between them.  Both humans drew out their weapons as the woman in grey sleeves launched for him first.

        "YOU COCKEYED BASTARD, YOU'LL REGRET THIS!"

With an axe she swung towards his face, the scribe clashing with his staff as he slammed his foot in her leg to make her flinch before the first hunter came for his head with a saw-blade of jagged teeth.  James fired a ball of flame from his other hand to briefly blind him, causing him to stagger and mistime his strike giving the lemming enough time to duck underneath and crack his cane against the man's shin, gritting his teeth from the dull pain to drive his backswing upon James' shoulder and drag its teeth over his skin.  A line of red appeared from his skin as the cloth tore free, the river of crimson down his arm causing him to clench and take a breath to refocus himself.

The axe-wielder came down with a cleaving strike as James swerved out its path, whacking it aside with his staff before striking her head and kicking the back of her leg.  She stopped herself in mid-stumble and pulled out her gun, a long pistol that fired for his head as he swerved to the side and spun his body hard to bludgeon the back of her skull once again.  Her friend in scarlet also brought out his gun, a blunderbuss with a trumpeting funnel that sparked with scattershot towards him, blunt fragments of metal pelting his chest hard with a groan that stopped him in his tracks.  He shot back with fireball but the hunter strafed past it to attack him, slashing for his head with the saw-blade as the scribe leapt back to avoid his swing and  countered with a violent gust at the foe's feet causing him to spin harder than he wanted in his swiping cut,  leaving his back exposed to James.

With a cracking slam of the cane to the human's skull, he sent him almost falling before following up with a whipping slash down the man's spine with his blunt staff.  The woman came from his side with firing pistol, James ducking under the shot to run in close and punch her stomach with a thrusting shove to throw her down and slam his fist across her face.  Three punches was all he managed before she grabbed his throat and strangled him one-handed, roaring as she hurled him towards her friend who kicked him in the back mid-flight, causing James to shriek with a crunch to his back that made him hobble even worse when he struggled to stand

        "You cockchafing BASTARD!"  She spat blood from her jaw and wiped with her grey sleeve.  "You think you can mess wif us?!"

        "Evidently," James gasped clutching himself, "do you still fight, or do you want to live?"

        "HAH!" the hunter in red circled round him.  "You think you're a real jemmy ah, well let's see how you fare without a HEAD!"

The sound of a gear grinding caused James to duck just before the lunging sweep of the hunter's blade, the saw-blade unfurling to an actual saw the length of a bastard sword, a lever in the handle making it snap open wide and crunch into the cobbles with its serrated teeth.  James heard another click as Hunter Two snapped open the staff of her axe which suddenly grew twice its length, a violent wind that ripped past James' cloak as he rolled between the blades and stared them both down with haunted eyes.

        "So it's death you choose?!" he barked.

        "Yeah, YOUR DEATH!" shouted the grey.

        "Hahaha...cute, alright, then DEATH IT IS!"

With cane en garde ready and waiting, he watched the woman come charging first with a moonstrike of her axe to come crashing down as James dodged left, the flickering lamps of the empty courtyard following his shadow as she swung horizontal with a whirling strike forming a deadly ballet that the lemming kited around carefully.  On her second-last spin he unveiled his weapon's form, a twist of the handle before he slashed diagonal, causing the staff to separate into a dozen shards and become a viper of steel, scales connected through a wire as each part rattled off the head of her axe.  She stumbled hard in his parry, the scribe twirling opposite as the threaded whip lashed the woman's eyes, ripping one of them fully out as she clutched her face screaming.

        "A-AAAAAAAAGH!  YOU, S-SON OF A WHORE!"

        "YOU GAMMY PRICK I'LL GUT YER ARSE!"

Hunter One came charging with blunderbuss up and ready, forcing James to dodge from the buckshot and lead him into his dreaded saw that came cleaving from the side in a hard slash that raked through the cobbles, the lemming blasting a shock of wind from underneath to send himself flying over the weapon's vicious arc, shooting twice a fireball from the air to punch the man's head and shoulder with almost solid force as he staggered hard.  His friend soon recovered, blood running down as she fired back when James landed, skirting himself round before he backed up near the broken window of a house.  Another shotgun blast punched him hard into the stone wall, peppering his chest with a dozen pellets as he shuddered when the woman came rushing with her axe.  She raised her weapon high, shining in the midnight sun before James leapt forwards to slam his head straight into her gut, punching the wind out of her as she coughed with choking stutter, her arms trembling mid-cleave when she toppled over from the weight of the axe left hanging.

The lemming jumped back and slashed her twice with his razor whip, red dripping from her cheeks as she howled just before he cut open her neck, the lashing thread of steel slicing her carotid as she clutched her throat in a heaving shudder, crying out before she slumped face-down into a crimson pond.  Her friend came rushing with a roar of vengeance, his weapon more solid in its carving strikes that James struggled to leap over without stabbing pains through his leg overwhelming him.  The shotgun burst sent him falling on his back against a fence, groaning from the punching pelt to his stomach as his hair became tangled in the iron bars with the hunter racing upon him.  Covering himself with a freezing rain, he shot spittling ice from his fingers just before the saw came down.

        "WOT?!"

It cracked its teeth against a hard barrier of frigid white.

        "WOT THUH BLOODY 'ELL IS THIS?!"

        "Magic," he smirked beneath his winter shell, "something you're too STUPID to understand!"

The saw-blade dug in too deep for the hunter to pull back, as James cut the lock of hair knotted up in the fence before he clicked his fingers causing the ice to shatter.  In that same moment, he followed with a blast of wind that turned shards into daggers, ripping through the human's coat and slicing over his skin with arctic blades causing him to tremble and cry with shuddering breaths as he fell to his knees.  He felt something cold pierce his heart.  He understood then how his friend had died.

        "GHHHRRAAAAAAARHKH!"

Blood pumped out its last from his wounded heart, severed apart by the vile whip that twisted inside like a tapeworm of steel.  James pulled it back to watch the man body spasm in death, the scarlet river filing across the courtyard as he reformed his cane.

        "Hm."  He sighed tapping his staff.  "At least my magic still works in this blighted place."

With a hand to his chest he summoned a white flame, a soothing light that nurtured his wounds and reknitted them with angel's kisses.

        "Aaah...alright...child!?"

He turned to the corner where several casks of wine sat rotting away.

        "Child are you alright?!  They're dead, it's alright you are safe now!"

        "A-are they?" he peeked out behind the barrels.  "Is it...safe?"

        "Yes."  He smiled.  "We don't have much time, the church will surely come by to investigate so hurry quick."

        "A-alright..."

Stepping out behind the casks of vinegar, James was astonished to find a wolf's face slipping out beneath the cloak.  He was small by human standards, but for James this child was almost his height, a thin ragged-furred beast with soft eyes of gleaming brass, his mouth struggling to hide his teeth when he spoke with a terminal rasp.

        "P-please...h-h-help me."

        "What...what happened to you?"

Reaching out with his hand he stroked over the beastly face, bristling fur so black that it shone blue under the light as the sounds of the Hunt continued with a calling shriek.

        "We need to hide, where were you heading?"

        "I was...t-trying to find, mother."

        "Is your mother...like this too?" he gestured to his body.

        "Y-yes," he nodded, "we were... in the clinic...the lady said she would cure us, b-but it didn't work."

        "But you still have your mind, how is that possible?  No one corrupted by the infection can still think-"

        "I-i don't know!" he shuddered with whimpering tears.  "D-do you, have you seen my mother?  Sh-she looks like a beast, but she's really nice, she has a green ribbon, round her neck a-and a blouse that's yellow."

        "I have not seen her no," he took his hand, "but we might be able to find her, did you plan to meet up someplace?"

        "My house, she might come back."

        "Alright.  My name is James, what is yours?"

        "A-...Andrieu."

        "Andrieu, that's a lovely name, alright let's go find your mother."

Letting the child-beast guide him, they left the court through another passage between houses with a running sluice of unsightly leftovers from old kitchen sinks.  Beneath windows they crawled through trenches of effluence, keeping away from open yards as hunters roamed with citizens brandishing swords and spears and pitchforks and rifles.  Other beasts roamed but none the same as Andrieu, his eyes without that primal gleam as he sniffed the air for any trace of his mother.  Through the broken avenues they reached the burrows where they found a terraced house with a red lantern on its porch and its windows unbarred.

        "This, this is my house."  He tried to open the door.  "I don't have the key."

        "Let me try."

James pulled out a thin metal pin from his satchel and twisted it in the lock, jimmying it open as they stepped inside.

        "Wooow, are you a cracksman mister?"

        "Hahah, no, I'm a librarian."

        "Do librarians do magic too?" asked Andrieu stepping in.

        "No, but warlocks do."

        "What's a warlock?"

        "A sorcerer who hurts people."

The house was a modest place, left untouched as the dust gathered round his feet when he walked through the kitchen that was the first room with its basic stove, a sink and a small dining table in between.  The living room was past it, several chairs around a fireplace with stairs to one side leading up towards the bedroom.  The boy walked more like a human than a beast, his cloak rising up to show his monstrous claws from thick-padded feet that stumbled awkward into the lounge.

        "Such a lovely house," James nodded, "did your mother say when she would be here?"

        "No," the child sat down with a wince, "o-ow!"

        "Are you alright?"

        "M-my...tail."

He took off his robe to show his slender body, fully transformed with dark hairs that swept down to his tail that sprouted from the small of his back.  The only semblance of humanity he had left was his blue vest.

        "I never...had a tail before."

        "How long since you've been like this?" James sat beside him.

        "Two months.  I missed my birthday."

        "Oh no, that's a shame, how old are you now?"

        "Seven."

        "Well...perhaps I can get you a late gift."

He tried to smile before the boy suddenly hugged him.  Startled for a moment he hugged him back, pulling him close as Andrieu started sobbing into his chest.  There were no pictures of his family, making him wonder what he even looked like as he stroked the boy's furry head.

        "It's alright...I'm sure your mother will be back soon."

        "Th-they...I tried to tell them I-i wasn't a beast-"

        "I know, I heard you.  That's why I came to find you."

        "They wouldn't, th-they wanted to hurt me, they...they wanted my skin, s-said I'd make money!"

        "Well they can't hurt you here."

        "D-don't leave me."

The wolf-child looked up with a tearful face.  James' heart clenched as he shook his head.

        "I will stay as long as I can until your mother comes back."

        "Th-thank you mister...James."

        "I notice your windows are not protected."

        "Mother says we have no money."  He pulled back shuffling in his seat.  "That's why we went to the clinic."

        "Because you needed money?"

        "No, because father bit me."

He scratched his arm with a shiver.

        "He got the bad blood in him, mother took me to the clinic.  He bit her too."

        "What happened to your father?"

        "They killed him."  Andrieu bowed his head.  "He wuz...too sick."

        "I'm sorry."  James patted his back.  "So your mother is also sick?"

        "She is," Andrieu nodded, "but the nice lady at the clinic, she said she was going to help.  She couldn't stop all of it, but...I could still remember my house."

        "So your bodies changed but your mind is still...human?"

The boy nodded with a shivering gasp.

        "Mother still remembers me too, sh-she said, when we left the clinic to run home and wait for her."

        "They let you leave the clinic?" James raised his eye.

        "N-no.  We ran away.  They were going to kill us."

        "What?!  Wh-why, your minds are still human!"

        "But they said they failed!  Because...b-because we don't look...human anymore."

He wept into his hands as the lemming pulled him to his side and rubbed his head.

        "I'm sorry...you were very brave to escape with your mother, you did the right thing."

        "B-but, I haven't seen her, I-i don't know where she is!"

        "She must be coming soon, surely, you managed to come this far I am certain your mother will be here."

        "Thank you...for saving me."  His stomach suddenly gurgled with a blush.  "I-i...haven't eaten, sorry."

        "Hahaha, it's fine," James got up and went to the kitchen, "I can make a few things if you like?"

        "I-is that okay?"

        "Of course, we might as well have some dinner whilst we wait."

        "Thank, thank you, mister James!"

        "Haha, just James please, no need to call me mister."

Andrieu smiled showing his cruel fangs before suddenly pulling back covering his face.  The lemming chuckled as he went to work, searching the pantry for any food still fresh as he found a bag of rice and some spices.  The stove he lit with a flame from his hand as he boiled some water to scorching hot, the unsightly brown murk purifying from the roasting heat until it was clear enough to bubbling.  Andrieu tried to rest sleeping in his chair, whilst James put in the rice mixing herbs over the next half hour.  The boy woke up from his brief nap to find a steaming bowl of rice with a spoon.

        "Here," James sat down beside him, "there wasn't any fresh meat sadly but this should fill you up."

        "Wow, it looks so good!"

The boy literally wolfed it down, half-snorting and half-chomping the rice that he shovelled in his mouth like coal in a furnace.  Sometimes Andrieu choked with a blush, gulping lungfuls with a deep burp before his stomach would settle.

        "E-excuse me!"

        "Hahaha, wow those are some lungs you have!"

        "S-sorry, sorry!"

        "It's fine just slow down, we have time!  Wonder if your appetite got better or worse."

        "Mmmh?" he looked up with rice bits in his chin.

        "In your new form that is, sorry, I was making a joke."

        "Oh!  Um...I-i think I get more hungry now, they gave us lots of meat at the clinic."

        "Well, at least they cared enough to not starve you," he muttered still eating, "I think I should bar your windows, wouldn't want any beasts to come round before your mother gets here."

        "But, we don't have any money-"

        "So why not get inventive, you have wood and iron in your house...or other houses?"

        "N-no!" he clapped his snout.  "Th-that, that would be stealing, that's wrong!"

        "Hmmm, you're right."  James nodded.  "There must be something we can do to bar the windows, if you'd like to help me after we've eaten?"

        "Alright, h-hey!"

        "What?"

        "My tail's...doing that."  He looked back to see it smack against the chair.

        "Well that's because you're happy," the lemming chuckled, "you wag your tail, at least that's what dogs do?"

        "A-am I...a dog now?" he shuddered twitching his body.

        "Well, a wolf is LIKE a dog, but bigger and stronger."

        "Oh!  I do feel...stronger than I was."

        "And bigger too, you have more muscles!"

        "Heeheh, you're right, that's why I've been more hungry!"

They finished their food as James went to check the environs.  The upper floor was easy enough to protect, shoving cupboards against the windows as the lemming melted the wood into the floor with a hard burning that sealed it like glue.  Andrieu in turn discovered his own strength when he left the house briefly to rip pieces of the fence from its moorings to place over the windows, the scribe melting down its sides to plaster them in crossbars over the frame.

        "A-are you sure this isn't stealing?" he asked.

        "You cannot steal what's already yours," said James smouldering the steel, "you just took the ones from near your house?"

        "Yes."

        "Then it's perfectly fine, you're just moving your fence elsewhere."

His hand became a blowtorch with crackling sparks, the lemming covering his face with a collander to protect himself as he fired the last iron strut into place.

        "Hoo...alright," he stepped back with a burning headache, "that's every window...barred, you'll be safe now."

        "What about the door?" Andrieu looked to the kitchen.

        "The table," he sighed slumping in his chair, "Andrieu why don't you push it up there, make sure to wedge it against the stove."

        "Alright!"

James fluttered his eyes from exhaustion as he felt his magic dwindle, his arms turning numb and his temple overheating.

        "Are you okay mister James?"

        "I'm fine, I have some...water with me."

He took a flask from his satchel to help cool his brain, the sound of grinding wood across the kitchen floor soon stopping once Andrieu jammed the table between the stove and door as James suddenly remembered the bleeding pain of his shoulder.  He grabbed one of the curtains that was still clean and ripped a piece to bandage round, after applying a salve from his few medical supplies to keep the wound clean.

        "I did it!"

        "That's a good boy," he smiled looking up, "I just need to rest, if that's alright, magic takes a lot out of me."

        "You, you can sleep in, my father's bed, if you want?"

        "If that's alright with you yes."

Heaving himself up towards the stairs, James dragged his body to the parents' bedroom where he found two separate beds which troubled him briefly, a dresser beside each with cupboard welded against the window and walls of thick stone, covered by cheap paintings of dreadful landscapes.

        "Um, which one is your father's?"

        "That one," Andrieu pointed, "his watch is in that dresser."

        "Really?"

The boy opened the drawer to show off the pocket watch, a brass fob that ticked quietly to itself.

        "Goodness that's a lovely watch."

        "Father said, when I became a man, he would give me it."  He put it back in the drawer.  "Goodnight mister James."

        "Goodnight Andrieu," he rolled himself into the sheets, "hope we see your mother soon."

        "I hope so too."

He smiled again before hiding his teeth, stepping out the room to go to his own as James fell asleep.

===========

Standing before three bodies in a courtyard, a small group in white robes came down the steps with their faces covered in veils, walking over to each exit to stand guard with weapons free.

        "There were claims that they were hunting a young beast," said one of the pale cloaks.

        "Three hunters should make swift work of such," said another bending over a corpse, "perhaps the reports were-"

        "Touch nothing."

A black cloak parted them like a raven amongst doves.

        "This, is my mark.

With towering hat and a mask shaped like a crow's beak, her voice was fierce with a reserved strength, harkening to cities of northern steel in another realm as she walked over to the body.  She rolled over the victim and patted down the pockets, examining the wounds as she pulled out a small wooden tool to insert through the flesh.

        "Wouldn't think she would be like this," muttered one of the white cloaks near the stairs.

        "Is that not why she earned the role?" said another beside him.

        "She hunts like a doctor rooting out a disease, it's...unnerving."

        "Is it?"

The raven looked up with a piercing stare.

        "Your master ordained me, it's bad form to whisper about your elders."

        "You are hardly our elder, madame-"

        "But I AM your superior."

She went back to investigating, checking over each body as she followed a blood trail to an alley.

        "They were killed by another human, the wounds they got from weapons."

        "How do you mean?" the pale guard scratched his head.

        "There's traces of metal in the wound," she brought her wooden tool out to show the fine silicate from it, "a lash or flaying weapon of some sort judging by the blood flowing in crescents."

        "For what reason would anyone dare attack three hunters?"

        "Not theft certainly, all their possessions are still on them, coins and such.  Any sign of this supposed beast?"

        "None so far, madame," the pale man bowed, "but I did notice some burn marks on them."

        "Someone equipped with fire," the crow rubbed her beak, "not all the blood must belong to the victims."

Taking out a small set of paper slips, she dabbed each of them into every spot of blood that was still fresh enough to smear.  Most of them reacted normal, but one of them was different, almost crackling to a frigid pallour when she noticed the body in the red kilt had shards of ice over his skin.

        "How queer," she scratched her beak of a mask, "not had any snow here the past few months, clothes aren't from the castle either."

She found something stranger wrapped around a fence, pulling it off in a small clump.

        "Green...hair."  The raven looked up.  "Who on earth's got green hair but it looks like it's been cut?"

Something sparked in her eyes as she looked over the weapon, the saw-blade showing in its raw teeth a scrap of bloody cloth.

        "Aha."

She pulled out a small leather bag and slipped the rag inside.

        "Found something madame?" one of the guards asked from the stairs.

        "Evidence left by our killer."  She put the green hair in another bag.  "Doesn't explain the why though but this blood...I suspect I know where it's from."

        "Really, already?!"

        "I'll have the clinic examine this, they've got better eyes than me."

        "So long as we depart," the minister sniffed with a shiver, "place smells fouler than a brothel."

        "How would you know?" she turned with hidden smirk.  "That's vinegar anyways, the wine in those barrels has gone off...hold up."

Something stung in the back of her nostrils.  A stronger bitter scent beneath the vinegar as she walked over to the casks and looked over down the back.

        "I think you're about fifty years too late," said the churchman.

        "I don't drink on duty, unlike some of us."

        "What's THAT supposed to mean?"

        "You tell me after that chablis you drank today."

        "Wha-...I would never, h-h-how did you-"

        "Your breath stinks."  She stood up with a closed fist.  "Also your tabard has stains on it, didn't think I would notice because it's pale?"

        "WELL-" he sputtered covering up his chest, "you, y-y-YOU, that gives you NO RIGHT to-"

        "Shut up."  She opened her hand showing fur almost hidden in her black palm.  "We have a beast to hunt, you're not on trial so unless you'd rather hunt your own beast alone in your bed, you'll keep your head down and do what I say."

        "Why in god's name did they ordain a hunter to hunt others?!  Have we not enough of your kind without this bloody hegemony?!"

        "That's rich coming from the church," she pocketed the fur in another bag, "now do your sodding job and follow me."

She pointed towards the alley where the sewage ran through, as she began her chase for the missing beast whilst the church minister said nothing, fuming beneath his veil as he marched behind the raven.