CHAPTER I: A SIMPLE SLAYING

Zephyr sharpened his claws absent-mindedly on an iron file. The tapered bone made sharp ringing sounds as it scraped across the serrated metal. He was getting impatient. The wolf-guard was supposed to arrive by now. He was already dreaming of the sour-tasting mead he would purchase with the tip-off money. Perhaps, finally, he would succeed in impressing the slender she-wolf that sat in the corner of his favorite ale-house. He would have never suspected that on this night he would lose his wolf legacy. That he would lose his livelihood.

Three knocks, in slow succession. Zephyr rose from the bearskin stool he was reclining on and stalked towards the door. They've wasted my time, he thought. I'll take my sweet time letting them in. Suddenly, the oak door burst open, showering Zephyr with wooden splinters. He instinctively held up a hand to shield his face. A gust of wind knocked him backwards. In the door frame a hooded figure now stood, a battered helmet in its cradled arm. Zephyr recognised the symbol; a cross of talon marks within a wolf head shaped crest. The symbol of the wolf-guard.

The hooded figure let the helmet drop to the ground. It clattered across the wooden planks, jolting Zephyr from his frozen state. Already his mind was flooded with questions. The wolf-guard was one of the most highly trained special divisions in the region. It took, at a minimum, seven mature wolves to overwhelm a wolf-guard sentry, much less to actually kill it. Who was this creature who took down a sentry without so much as a scratch or tear on their clothing? Zephyr decided to opt for bravery. "Who are you and what do you want?" he spoke. The figure turned to him as if noticing his presence for the first time. A bandaged hand lifted off the burgundy hood that veiled the assailant's face. Zephyr gasped. It was a human. A human girl.

A human, much less a girl, taking out a wolf-guard sentry? Zephyr struggled to his feet. "Whoever you are, you've got no right to come in here. Leave, now. The girl, ignoring him, unslung a crossbow from her back and lifted the latch. "You want to know where I got this?" She asked. Her voice sounded velvety, like a hand running through Tunisian sheets. Zephyr almost laughed. There had to be some mistake. An adult human had little chance against a werewolf without a magic item, much less a little girl who couldn't be above the age of twelve. He readied himself for an easy victory. "Where did you get it, little girl?" He taunted. The young assassin sighed. "They're always cocky", she muttered, and fired.

The bolt moved almost in slow motion. Zephyr ducked into a low dash as the bolt sailed across his head and embedded itself into the far wall. He turned just in time to see the assassin fire two more bolts. He had just enough time to twist away from the first bolt, but the second projectile clipped his shoulder, twisting his torso in the other direction. He pulled at the bolt, but it refused to budge. At the other end of the room, the assassin smiled. There was no more work to be done. Zephyr was puzzled. It was only one wound. The fight was far from over.

And then he noticed it. The throbbing pain in his shoulder slowly spread across his whole body, increasing in intensity. Slowly, he dropped to his knees. The pain was unbearable now, like every molecule in his body was being pierced by an imaginary spike. And still it continued. The pure pain forced him to curl up onto the ground. The assassin walked over to him. "You get it now, don't you. Where I got this crossbow. That pain you're feeling, its nothing compared to the pain I felt when your kind murdered my family. But I can make it right now." She put a hand on the bolt embedded into his shoulder and pushed it in deeper. Zephyr screamed, tears soaking the front of his cloak. "The bolts don't come out unless I pull them out myself. They cause unbearable pain that never stops and will forever increase in intensity, until you die." She put her hand back on the bolt, and Zephyr watched it, desperate hope splayed on his face. "My name is Laura Arc, and you will remember it until you die, which, unfortunately for you, is not that long." She pulled him by the ears until he was inches from her face. "Say it." "S-Say what?" Zephyr trembled. He was far beyond sense now. He could already feel his life energy slipping away from him, dark spots clouding his vision. Laura pulled out another bolt and held it menacingly at his face. "Say my name before you die." Zephyr screamed out in frustration. What madness was this that his tormentor would request that he recite her name! But Laura pressed the point into his cheek and he blurted out, "Laura!"