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My Eldritch Werewolf Cultivation

Xorag, an ancient and Eldritch god, was freed from his prison by a greedy archaeologist. Now, the cruel God wants to make a reality in his twisted image. Sara Whitlock came to Duskhold to escape her guilt. Now she's a prisoner of her heritage. A blind sage named Dawn comes to Duskhold and reveals Sara's secret family history. She is a descendant of the Eldritch Pack, the first werewolves. Now she must grow powerful enough to seal Xorga away with the aid of her Eldritch form. If she doesn't succeed the world will never be the same in the worst way possible.

Jolan_Hildebrandt · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
12 Chs

Chapter One. Here comes Dawn

Some things should stay lost. A phrase that often falls on deaf ears. Desmond, Alpha of the Sabretail pack, will discover the truth of these words. It started with a simple scan of the ground beneath the ancient temple. The imaging revealed another chamber beneath the altar. The promise of riches allows greed to enter Desmond's heart.

The high priest barred the young leader access and bared his fangs. "Daenerys will take swift vengeance for this."

Desmond cackled with a mad look in his eye. He could smell the discovery already. "Get out of my way, old man." He raised a clawed hand, "Your religion is old and outdated. I have to know." His voice grew high-pitched and maniacal.

"Some things should stay hidden from the world," The priest shifted into his wolf form. "I'd rather die than let you under the temple."

"Granted," Granville snapped his fingers, and a loud bang echoed around the chamber.

The priest's eyes widened as the silver entered his system. He crawled toward the stone table. "Forgive me, Daenerys." The holy man went still after the final words left his mouth.

Desmond clenched his fists while foaming at the mouth, "Set the charges. I will have my prize." He kicked the fallen priest. "Where's Daenerys now? She couldn't save you."

His entourage of guards swiftly set the shaped charges and blew the stone apart. Thick clouds of smoke covered the area of worship. Desmond held his breath and waited. A single word pierced the silence.

"Tribute." A loud bang followed it

"Tribute," another drone-like voice said. In a visceral display, the man started to slam his head against the stone floor. Thick rivers of blood poured down his forehead.

Then multiple voices shouted, "Tribute, tribute, tribute." The smoke began to clear. Desmond goons trained their weapons on each other's heads.

Desmond's mouth dropped, and he shook his head. "No, stop..."

The muzzles flashed together. Blood splattered against the walls and floor and slowly ran to the chamber below the temple. Desmond held his breath and waited. Was it over? Could he claim the prize he sought?

Three minutes ticked by, and nothing further happened. Desmond shivered and shook with fear as he stepped toward the fallen bodies. A horrendous stench wafted into his nostrils. He covered his mouth, desperate to hold the bile back.

Then a single hand of the dead twitched. Then it slowly transformed into the lupine claw and tore free of the body. Other limbs followed suit and crawled toward the terrified Alpha.

The terrified leader froze. Fear gripped him in paralysis, "What is this?" His fear caused his body to shift. "Who's there?"

Several lupine appendages clawed Desmond's furry body and gripped him. Half a head raised from the ground, bloody and broken. The one good eye narrowed to a slit. The shattered mouth rasped, "Tribute."

***

The bright colors of autumn crowned the trees of the quiet streets. Children window-shopped their dream costumes for Halloween. Mothers surged into supermarkets for extra candy. Local farmers worked hard to create the corn maze for the annual festival.

A single woman with white hair calmly strode through the streets. A long ivory staff clutched in her hand tapped against the faded asphalt. Across her eyes was a simple strip of silver cloth. No one offered any malice or welcome. It didn't matter to her.

The sound of little footsteps came from behind. The white-haired woman stopped and waited. "Is there something I can do for you, little one?"

"Why do you wear a cloth over your eyes?" Childlike curiosity pleased the woman to no end.

The sweet voice brought a smile to the woman's face. "I can see more clearly without my eyes."

"I don't understand." Curiosity accompanied the young girl's words.

"One day you will," The blind woman changed her tone. "You shouldn't talk to strangers, you know."

"I know, but I thought you looked nice..." The young girl trailed off, "I'm Stacey."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Dawn," the blind woman replied. "I could use your help."

"With what?"

"Do you know someone named Sara Whitlock?"

"Ummm...do you know what she looks like."

Dawn giggled and clapped her hands. "My dear Stacey, I would describe her if I could," She said, "But I cannot see."

"But you said you could see more clearly..."

"Yes, but not in a conventional way." Dawn loved the conversation. Children had an honesty about them that fascinated her to no end. "Has anyone new arrived in town?"

Stacey didn't hesitate with her answer, "We have a new librarian, or at least that's what my mom said. I haven't been there yet. I could show you the way if you want?"

"That is kind of you, Stacey. Please, go home before your mother worries. I'll find my way."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I promise I will be fine. Now go home to your mother." Dawn waited for Stacey to leave. She sniffed the air. No one else was in the immediate vicinity. The elder tapped the staff three times against the ground and chanted.

The eternal darkness of her blind eyes lit up with a dozen auras. "Now, where are you?" Luckily werewolves give off a distinct glow. A flash of crimson passed Dawn, "Oh, where are you going in such a hurry?"

The elder wolf followed the crimson aura. Then it shifted to bright white. "Some of the eldritch heritage survived? It's more than I could have hoped for." Dawn followed the aura trail to a small diner. "I'm sorry for what's about to happen, but you'll lose far more if you don't get involved."

***

Dawn entered the classic diner. The smell of grilled meat pleased her. It couldn't hurt to mix business with pleasure. "Pardon me, could someone help me find a seat?"

A gentle hand touched her arm, and a sweet voice said, "Would you like a seat by the window?"

"It matters little since I can't see."

"There's a nice booth in the corner."

The woman radiated power in waves. Dawn couldn't have been more pleased. "I'll take it."

"So, what brings you to Duskhold?"

"I'm looking for someone," Dawn leaned the staff against the vinyl seat and shimmied until she found a comfortable position. "Do you know a Sara Whitlock?" the waitress paused and held her silence for twenty seconds. Dawn smiled to herself, "Did I say soemthing wrong?"

"N-n-no," the woman replied. "I'm Sara Whitlock. What can I do for you?"

"Do you have time to talk, or are you working right now?"

"I don't work here," she sat next to Dawn, "I stop here every day for supper."

"Don't you cook?"

"I have no one in my life. Why bother cooking?"

"I see," Dawn said. "Don't you want to know why I came here looking for you?"

Sara held her silence. "Do I want to know?"

"Lets talk over dinner. Hear what I have to say. I'll make you an offer. You can say yes or no." Dawn held up a menu. "What's good to eat here?"

***

An hour later, Dawn and Sara shared a cup of coffee, "Now, Ms. Whitlock, are you ready to hear what I have to say?"

Sara set her cup on the table, "I don't know what you could offer me."

"First question. You are a werewolf, correct?" Dawn lowered her voice and kept her senses attuned to Sara.

"I am, but it's not something I try to think about."

"You live dangerously, Sara Whitlock." Dawn allowed a smile to touch her lips. "How much do you know about your family history?"

"I only know we are an old werewolf family."

"Your family are among the first werewolves to walk the earth."

Sara's voice filled with disbelief, "You can't possibly know that. I think you're lying."

Dawn gripped Sara's smooth hand, "My dear, I know this because I was there when you family asked for my blessing."

"I don't have to sit here and listen to your lies." Sara's words tore through the air. She rose and marched away.

Dawn giggled to herself and waited for Sara to leave the building. "I'm sorry, Ms. Whitlock, but I need your help." She closed her palms and focused on her skin. The soft flesh rolled back toward the wrists.

Tiny hairs covered the fleshy molds. Sharp teeth formed in the mouths, and arms and legs followed. Two sets of eyes appeared on the small lupine heads. Dawn stroked their heads, "I have a job for you two. Find Sara Whitlock and force the ancient heritage to the surface. I need it."

The tiny beasts stalked down her body and weaved in and out of the foot traffic. Dawn leaned against the seat and smiled to herself. "I hope it's not too late." Her smile turned to a frown, "I wonder why Sara denies her wolf side? That could be a problem."

She rose from the seat and gripped the Ivory staff. It tapped against the ground as Dawn made her way to the diner door. "No matter. It will change once my little friends activate her dormant abilities. Sara will come to me on her hands and knees, and I will be the hand of comfort."

I love Eldritch Horror. This is also my first attempt at Cultivation. I'd be happy to know your thoughts on the first chapter.

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