"Vampire...."
"Shadow-Kin..."
"Blood-Fiend .."
"Druid-Slayer!"
The words bounced around Murciel's skull as he ran in the shape of a dark-brown furred wolf. In his jaws, he held Titus as a small bull-horned fox.
It had begun to rain, causing shadows to shift and jump behind the blurry shower as he ran through forests and valleys.
Twice he turned around before Titus turned into a massive falcon and carried him home from the skies.
It was there he waited. There he paced and howled to a moonless sky until exhaustion took him.
He woke up to clearer skies and sunlight beaming through the open window of his room. He was on his feet immediately, flipping out of his window and climbing down the side of his house like a wild ape.
Eyes were glued to him the moment he was outside, as if they were awaiting his arrival.
He landed in the grass of his yard in a low crouch, still looking with his nose. Still feeling the urge to itch behind his ear and chew a bone in spite of his anxiety. Maybe it was because of it actually.
Thena stood with the fence border at her back. The farmhouse hounds sat at her sides, finally deciding to be loyal guardians instead of mouthy maniacs.
"Sometimes the mind takes a while to catch up with the body after your first shape shift, the urge to chew bones and chase squirrels will fade." Thena explained.
"I doubt it will with him." Mrs. Augustus commented.
Thena playfully punched her arm and smiled faintly. "Easy. Mercy had a long night."
Murciel looked between them both in disbelief at their calm-- humorous, demeanors. "Why?"
"Why what?" Thena asked.
"Why are we so relaxed? What about the Druids? They attacked their own..... We need to report them to Stonehenge." Murciel explained.
"What if they were sent by Stonehenge?" Thena asked.
"But that doesn't make sense..... That would only happen if..... right. It would only happen if we are breaking natural law.... And we are."
"How so?" Thena asked.
"Me."
Thena nodded in understanding of his reply-- even if it was grammatically incorrect in a way.
Afterwards she led him back to his room in silence. Mrs. Augustus followed like an old ghost and leaned against the doorway as Murciel and Thena sat on his platform bed of wood and cotton.
Art of old Druidic Warriors hung from the polished walls, framed by rare flowers dipped in amber and crystalized oils that glimmered at night. Now it remided Murciel of Glow-Petal Forest and the Druids in panther-shape.
He shivered, then caught everyone staring, "I am not afraid, mother."
Thena nodded.
"I am confused."
Mrs. Augustus snorted.
"You are the daughter of a king.... You said I'm a prince in some far away city. One you left. One we'd return to one day."
"You are a prince, Mercy." Thena replied.
"No....I'm Shadow-Kin. It's why I have these abilities no one else has. It's why I look different.... It's why I beat the Firespeaker. I'm their natural weakness. I'm a Vampire, and that's why the Druids were after us. You're protecting a monster, mother."
"Wrong." Thena casually replied.
"But—"
"I'm protecting my son— the bringer of the next world. As any mother would. As any Druid would."
Murciel shook his head, not understanding his mothers logic in the slightest. "I drink blood, mother. It makes me…. strong."
Thena nodded, "Flesh does the same for me— speaking of…." She pulled a bag of jerky out of her pocket and began eating, "I have to hit my macros."
Mrs. Augustus sighed from the doorway, "You are your sons mother."
"Naturally." Thena said.
"Thena! Can you be serious for even a moment? Mercy is having a crisis!" Mrs. Augustus snapped. Her eyes turned avian and her old nose darkened as it began to shift into a razor sharp beak.
Murciel stiffened defensively, "I'm not having a crisis, I'm having a confusion."
"That's not…"
Thena held up a hand to silence Mrs. Augustus. She then turned to face Murciel— as if she could see him through her blindfold, "What is born, Mercy?"
"...Life?"
Thena smiled, "You know… ten years ago the Low-Queen of a Dark-Tech City in Low-Earth asked me the same question….. right before she gave you to me."
"That's what you meant by prince…" Murciel realized.
"You are prince of two earths."
Murciel looked to his mother, "What else did she say?"
"She asked me what is life. Mrs. Augustus…"
"Life is."
"It's to be determined. To be grown, naturally and as it needs. Me and your birth parents agreed that your life deserved to be determined. Because that's what life is. That's what their life should've been."
"Why wasn't there's? I thought Low-Earth beings were all materializations of rot and evil."
"I don't believe that to be the case anymore."
"But the Laws of Mother Nature…."
"Were written by man. They're an interpretation. An incorrect one." Thena explained, "Look at yourself."
Murciel did. "What am I looking for?"
"What are the shadow-kin known for having?"
"Brands." Murciel realized. They always had glowing burns on their skin. It told stories and worked in ways they didn't understand.
"What are they known for lacking?"
Thena pressed his wrist.
"Mother, they have hands." Murciel was confused again.
"Murciel….."
"Ohhh… a pulse. Shadow-Kin are undead." Murciel said.
They sat in silence until he caught it.
"The Laws of Mother Nature are wrong….. are you saying Shadow-Kin are naturally supposed to be like me?"
Thena nodded, "I beleive so. They're put through tests and experiments that make them as we see them. It's not their natural state. It's a condition, given to them."
"By who? Who would do that?" Murciel asked.
Mrs. Augustus looked out the windows suddenly. Seemingly checking for any unwanted ears.
"Core-Dwellers."
"I've never heard of this."
"Few have, child." Thena started, "We know of earth being split into threes, but I believe there's a fourth. The Core-Dwellers inhabit the fourth-world. High, Center, Low, Core. And I've been trying to find it. If I bring back word of this, we become exonerated to the rest of Noble-Druidry. The strongest cultivators will join us, we can erase Low-Earth through liberation. We can live as one."
Murciel itched his curly black hair in thought, "It's just like Professor Switch…"
"Hm?"
"You need me…. So they don't think you're lying. So they don't make you run. Let's head to Stonehenge know. We can show them I'm different, I can….. Mother?"
Thena dropped her head. Her jaw flexed against her pale skin. "I'm sorry, Mercy. I wish I could let you think this way a while longer….. away from mans fear…. bigotry…. paranoia and its offspring. But I can't. We're on a time limit. We can't risk the arduous process of forcing the status quo to adjust to its end. We have to bring it all at once. From the core."
"What do you mean? Why are we on a time limit?" Murciel questioned.
"Do you remember what the Druids said last night?"
Murciel had been trying all morning not to. He let his mind roam. Past the snarling visage of panther in the trees and deeper to the vocal memories of distant dialogue.
"Caspien will wake soon."
"Do you remember reading about the Shadow-Flower war?"
Murciel nodded.
"It's where I found you. Caspien and I were the only survivors. He was Pillar-Oak at the time. I was barely beyond my child years. He— like the rest of them, considers my actions a betrayal. A cult has formed around him. Joined by other Druids who once hated my father. It now carry it all, as will you. Which is why I need to find these Core-Dweelers within a year."
"Another year?" Murciel tried to ignore the lump growing in his throat.
"The world is changing. Druidry is branching outward, diversifying. To the east, Druids abandon the norms we've established for a practice called Shamanism. They commune with the dead and pilot Shadow-Kin. Further east they become iron boned warriors who don't speak called Monks. I have a vision. The world is no longer split three ways. It's fractured. In millions. If it gets to that point, you won't be able to bring the next world."
"Mother….. I haven't understood any of what you said for the last five minutes."
Thena chuckled, "I haven't slept much. But I think you'll understand in the future. I love you Murciel."
"I love you too, Mother."
Thena stood up and pulled something out of her belt.
A scroll.
Not just any scroll.
"A Cultivator's Scribe…." Murciel took it.
Thena watched as he opened it and his smile faded.
"It's empty." Murciel mumbled. All it read off were his current stats.
[Name: Murciel Mori]
[Race: Vampire]
[Bloodline: Royal]
[Height: 6FT 0IN]
[Weight: 120LBS]
[Blood Reserves: Empty]
[Cultivation Stage: (Mortal) Low-Seed (70%)]
[Cultivation Techniques: N/A]
"What am I supposed to do with this, mother?"
"Develop it." Thena said. "You're the first of your kind. Bronzehenge won't help develop your most powerful abilities and the techniques you could use best. You have to figure that out on your own. Your journey of cultivation will be lonely, but neccesary. Your success is the worlds success. When I return I'd love to see what you can do. Until then."
Murciel rose with his mother and hugged her.
"Why can't I go with you?"
"You aren't ready, Mercy. That's why I gave you the scribe. Get ready. Prepare to change the world."
Murciel was left alone in his room.
With a thousand things to consider.
The Next World….
Core-Dwellers….
Shamans….
Monks…
Creating his own Cultivation Techniques.
And an enemy Pillar-Oak awakening.
Murciel stiffened, "I am not afraid…."
His battle with anxiety returned in excess.