A Wolf's Howl, A Fairy's Wing

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the palace, a miserable-looking, pale woman sat on the floor of a luxurious bedroom. She sat slumped against the wall, her back half-curved, shoulders drooping with fatigue.

Her knees were bent, slightly raised, but not close to their chest—just enough to let their arms rest loosely on top of them. Long, naturally grey, but currently somewhat dirty hair fell loosely down her shoulders.

Rags of clothing clung closely to her skin, and her muscles had deteriorated significantly. Her lips were dry, and the growling of a hungry stomach echoed through the room. Yet, the two dog bowls filled with water and food standing next to her went entirely ignored.

Finally, a collar was closed around her neck and attached to the wall. The connecting chain was too short for her to stand up fully.
Continue your saga on empire

But despite her miserable situation, an aura of quiet determination hung around her body. Her eyes were closed and aimed at the ceiling, making it unsure if she was awake or not. She looked lonely, yet steadfast, like a single, large boulder in the sea, resisting the tides.

Suddenly, she groaned slightly, lifted her head, and opened her eyes. Clear, grey eyes, shone into the room, and her brows furrowed slightly. "She's… excited?" the woman croaked thoughtfully into the void. "Why…?"

But, as if deciding it didn't matter, her thoughtfulness made way for frustration and anger. She scoffed, her voice still seeming like it came out of a cheese grater, "Well, whatever… I liked her earlier anger better..."

For a moment, she continued looking ahead, as if in thought, her eyes shining with defiance. For a moment, she grasped the collar around her neck with one, trembling hand, but didn't try to remove it. She'd already tried often enough. It was just wasted energy at this point.

Yet, even so, she grasped the collar tightly, her pale knuckles reddening from the effort. Then, she groaned and released it again, slumping her head back against the wall. "Dammit…" she cursed hatefully. "I can't believe I finally found the bitch, only to end up in this situation… How'd she even get so strong?"

As if on que, her memories drifted back to the day she was captured…

* * *

A scorching hot sun radiated intense heat down at the sandy desert dunes near Djibouti City. Here, two armies were gathered, about a month before Erik came to Africa.

The setting appeared remarkably similar to the battle that Erik participated in, except on a large scale, and with the surroundings now being filled with sand, rather than trees and green.

On one side stood a small, uncoordinated, chaotic group of Runebound, backed my a massive contingent of Arcanists, dressed in luxurious robes with the symbol of the Humanitas Sangh. On the other side stood rows after rows of disciplined Runebound, backed by a small number of Arcanists.

In front of both sides stood their leaders, eyeing the others cautiously.

On the side of the Humanitas Sangh stood a man and a woman, who were apparently called Ethan and Sophia. Just like the others, they were dressed in luxurious robes, and grinned at the other side with disdain.

On the disciplined side, some familiar faces were staring down their enemy. Among them were Naeku and Enkai, both in their transformed state, as they flanked a second werepanther on either side. This one was larger than Naeku, a man, and had reached the third rank.

His fierce yellow eyes looked ahead with concern. Not the army they faced, however, nor even at the unknown third rank Arcanists standing in front of it. No, his eyes were locked on a palanquin, situated behind the army.

"Do you think there's another one in there, Father?" Naeku asked the man next to her with a concerned frown.

"I think it's depressingly likely," her father answered in a low, sombre voice. "But it's far outside of my omnisense range, so there's no way to be sure. All we can do is try and kill the third rankers we can see, before the one in that palanquin decides to intervene."

"I still can't believe these monsters slaughtered everyone in Djibouti," Enkai growled on his other side. "Although perhaps I shouldn't be surprised, humans have always been capable of great suffering…"

"So are all races, brother," Naeku's father denied with a shake of his head. "All our people died in Djibouti, humans among them. Even now, humans fill our Arcanist ranks. They will defy this new enemy as much as us, and are worth no less. Don't forget that."

The werelion sighed reluctantly, but still nodded in agreement, "I know, brother… you're right. I just hope we can continue to convince our people of that. Some have already begun to view our human population with suspicion, and it's only going to get worse."

Suddenly, a large, female, white-furred werewolf stepped up next to Naeku and answered Enkai with an excited, toothy grin, "You worry too much, Enkai. So long as you, the leadership, continues to put your trust in them, so will your people. Especially after bonds become forged on the battlefield."

The werewolf wielded dangerous twin-axes, but wore no clothing, stretchy or otherwise, unlike the werepanthers and werelion next to her. She preferred to fight all-natural. According to her, the clothing provided no protection, and she was not ashamed to be naked after turning back to human form.

"I pray you are right, Lady Runa," Naeku said calmly, keeping her eyes in front of her. "But for now, we have larger concerns ahead… Like living to fight another day."

Surprisingly, Runa pouted slightly, which looked quite funny in her wolf form. "I told you to call me Runa, little Naeku," she muttered sadly, a far cry from her previously excited expression.

Unfortunately, Naeku simply snorted and looked away, causing Runa to sigh sadly.

Naeku's father chuckled, and glanced over at the white werewolf, "Don't mind her. She's just sad you declined my proposal, but she'll get over it."

Next to him, an aggrieved Naeku pouted as well now, but she went ignored.

"More importantly," her father continued with a frown. "You shouldn't be here, Runa. This is not your fight, and you're still in recovery. You should take this chance to leave, and continue your search."

But a steadfast Runa shook her head, eyes twinkling with fighting lust. "Fat chance of that, Ankhur," she grinned widely. "There's hunters to be killed. Do you really think I'll just sit on the side lines?"

"Besides," she continued a little more sombrely. "I owe you and your family my life. Slinking away while my benefactors are in trouble is not my style, and may it never be."

Somewhat having expected that answer, Ankhur smiled softly, "I suppose we have no choice but to accept your help, then. You may not be a third ranker, but your prowess among second rankers is like none other. And if you die today…" he finished sombrely. "You will be remembered among our people's heroes."

Runa chuckled, "Oh, don't worry about that. So long as my soul is filled with as much hope and hatred as it is now, I will never die. My soul will refuse to depart for the afterlife out of sheer stubbornness!"

She chuckled slightly at her own joke, but wasn't joined by the others. A sombre silence fell among them. They weren't sure what Runa's history was, but they knew she'd seen plenty of tragedy, and yet still remained hopeful. Although, for what, they didn't know.

But they didn't have much time to think about it, because soon afterwards, the battle started…