That evening in a dimly lit hall beneath the only Castle in Blackwood, a hall adorned with heads of taxidermied deers, wolves, werewolves and vampires, a memento of memorable hunts. Viktor, alongside his hunting companion Gerard, engaged in hushed conversation as they awaited the arrival of Lord Eric, the leader of Blackwood. The air crackled with anticipation, and Viktor could sense the gravity of the impending meeting.
"Viktor," Gerard began, his voice a low murmur, "is it true? What I heard about your daughter Celeste?"
Viktor's gaze met Gerard's, and with a nod, he confirmed, "Yes, you heard right."
Gerard's eyes widened slightly, and he remarked, "She's such a strong, brave girl. If she were a boy, she would be attending this meeting."
Viktor acknowledged Gerard's observation with a silent nod. It was a truth he had long recognized. Among his children, Celeste stood out as the one capable of doing what's necessary to defeat supernatural beasts that lurked in the shadows.
Later, he inquired of Gerard whether he had any insight into the reason for their summons. Gerard's response carried an undercurrent of unease, "I don't know, but I have a feeling it could be about the vampires. You know they are coming, right? Those living dead creatures won't leave us alone, they let us be until we are totally decimated." Gerard's words were laced with paranoia.
"You're a broken record with this vampire hysteria, we will prevail my friend." Viktor retorted, acknowledging the underlying truth in his friend's words, but Gerard is the kind of person who keeps flogging a horse long after it is dead. And he doesn't want to give him a reason to keep talking.
As the hunters lingered in discussion, the Lord Eric of Blackwood made his entrance. A man well into his seventies, with graying black hair cascading to his shoulders, and a slightly scarred, weathered face and measured 5 ft 9 in height. His presence, marked by piercing gray-blue eyes, wearing a royal blue robe, rendered him an intimidating figure—an embodiment of the harsh realities the hunters faced.
Without preamble, the Lord addressed the assembly and commenced the secret meeting of The Order Of The Silver Claw. "There's a new threat," he declared, his voice cutting through the hushed murmurs. "According to information from my spies and a sorcerer we interrogated, there's a prophecy about an Alpha King, a Lupus Dei—a werewolf capable of destroying us all."
A hunter, skeptical, raised his hand, questioning the severity of the threat and suggesting it might be a hoax.
The Lord's response, steeped in the weight of experience, resonated through the room. "Hoax or not, preparation is our key to success. Our enduring presence here, amidst relative calm, is a testament to our ability to anticipate and neutralize potential threats. While others grapple with vampire attacks or werewolves overstepping boundaries, we've maintained our stronghold through foresight and vigilance."
The Lord revealed that three individuals had entered Blackwood the previous day—a middle aged man accompanied by a young girl, and a lone young man who arrived later. Spies had been assigned to monitor their movements and report back to me.
He briefed them on the presence of a clandestine werewolf pack lurking at the outskirts of Blackwood. Then, with a somber air, he assigned Viktor the task. "Viktor, your close proximity to their location makes you the ideal candidate to either drive them away or deal with them as the situation demands. We can't afford to underestimate the threat they pose." Grumbles echoed through the crowd as Lord Eric's orders reached their ears. Among the hunters, a longstanding sentiment simmered, suggesting that Lord Eric favored Viktor, consistently assigning him more hunting tasks than the others. However, the old man remained impervious to their discontent.
With this, the urgent meeting was adjourned. The hunters dispersed, each weighed down by the ominous prophecy and the uncertainty that now loomed over them.
In the cozy embrace of Gabriel's house, the air buzzed with the mingling energies of the mundane and the mystical. Thorne found himself in the presence of Fantine, Gabriel's mother— a beautiful woman with fading blue eyes.
Fantine, an elegant septuagenarian, graces the scene with her enduring beauty. Her long silver fox hair cascades gracefully, framing features that tell tales of a life well-lived. Draped in a regal green gown, she adorns herself with the sophistication of pearl earrings and a resplendent crystal necklace.
As they settled into a conversation, Gabriel's request to call Fantine "Madam" was met with a gentle insistence to use her name—Fantine.
The trio delved into discussions that traversed worlds, weaving threads of magic and tales of distant lands. Surprisingly, Fantine and Thorne discovered a shared resonance in their perspectives, a kinship that momentarily eclipsed Thorne's primary quest. Enchanted by Fantine's wisdom, he found himself immersed in the stories she wove, temporarily forgetting the urgency that had brought him to this mythical abode.
Meanwhile, Aria silently observes and absorbs the unfolding dynamics with a curiosity that mirrors the flickering flames in the hearth.
As the clock ticked and shadows danced across the walls, the tranquility was shattered by Gabriel's hurried entrance. His eyes darted across the room, acknowledging his mother and guests, yet the urgency etched on his face hinted at something weighing him down.
Greeting his mother and guests with a slightly breathless demeanor, Gabriel redirected Fantine's attention to his room. A knot of worry tightened in his chest as he ushered her into the realm of private confidence.
In the hushed sanctuary of Gabriel's room, he shared the unsettling truth. "Mother," he began, his voice tinged with both concern and revelation, "Ethan, your grandson, is going to transform very soon, sooner than we expected. In three days time he will transform."
Fantine's eyes widened, she knew Ethan would eventually transform, but she wasn't expecting it to catch her unaware. Before she could articulate a response, Gabriel continued, a note of disbelief coloring his words. "But that's not all, Mom. Since Ethan's birth, he's exhibited rapid healing. It's as if he's been accessing his werewolf traits long before the moon has its say."
A shocked silence enveloped the room, the implications of this revelation echoing through the ancient tapestries of magic and lineage.
Fantine was certain that the unfolding events defied the ordinary order of things. Moreover, she recognized that their initial plan to kidnap Ethan and transport him to a secure haven, where she could instruct him on controlling and concealing his werewolf side, had become unattainable.
The evening sun cast a warm glow as Isabella returned from Gabriel's shop, her arms laden with foodstuffs and a radiant smile gracing her face. The aroma of fresh produce filled the air as she entered the cottage, where Celeste and Ethan eagerly awaited her return.
"Welcome mom, what did you get?" Celeste asked, her eyes bright with curiosity.
Isabella began unpacking the provisions, and soon, the three of them were engaged in the task of sorting through the groceries. Laughter and banter filled the kitchen, creating an atmosphere of familial warmth, beneath the laughter Isabella realized she can't seem to see Ethan the same way she saw him before her meeting with Gabriel.
Later, as the savory aroma of dinner wafted through the air, Isabella noticed Viktor and Marcus were conspicuously absent. Concern furrowed her brow as she turned to Celeste and Ethan. "Do either of you know where your father and brother are?"
Celeste, engrossed in the task at hand, shrugged. "How should I know?"
Isabella felt a twinge of unease; missing a family dinner was unusual in their household. A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and Marcus stumbled in, the pungent scent of alcohol preceding him. The room fell silent as the weight of his drunken state settled over the family.
Moments later, Viktor arrived, his stern expression signaling unmistakable disapproval. "Marcus, consider this your first and last warning. I won't tolerate any drunkenness under my roof," he admonished.
"You consistently validate my concerns. Is this the conduct of a responsible, disciplined man? More crucially, is this how a Duval should behave?" Viktor continued, his words carrying the weight of familial expectations. However, Isabella interjected, urging, "Can we please just eat now and address this later?" Viktor, respecting her plea, withheld any further comments regarding Marcus' inebriation.
Before the family could resume their dinner, Viktor proclaimed, "Tomorrow, Marcus and Ethan, you'll be accompanying me on a hunt."
Marcus remained reticent about the announcement, while Ethan's mind churned with thoughts, contemplating whether his father's directive was a subtle ploy to have them hunt down wolves.
Celeste piped up, insisting she would go too, despite not being fully healed from her recent injury. As the conversation continued, Isabella's mind raced. She recalled Ethan's recent nightmares and Gabriel's revelation about his impending transformation into a werewolf, likely happening the next couple of days.
A knot tightened in Isabella's stomach, a gut feeling that something was amiss.