Ten nights before meeting the General
In a drowsy state, I knew I was not truly asleep as I dreamt. My dreams replayed the moment I was captured again and again, with different outcomes. The first dream I had started right at the moment the woman at the store ran away, moments before I saw the werewolf.
However, this time, next to me stood a tall figure with no white in her eyes and a demented smile.
Grey skin, paper-thin. Bald, without lashes, and eye sockets filled with the colour of ink.
A shapeshifter. She was magic like me. I saw her for what she was.
And if I saw through her disguise, she saw through mine. I knew I had to run.
I managed to get further than I expected.
I heard her cackling as she followed me.
I was waiting to be caught even as I ran.
There must have been soldiers following me as well.
It was only a matter of time before they caught up to me.
I was surprised to reach the hole in the baker’s fence that stray dogs used for passage to the market.
I was short and slight. I slipped right through the hole, praying that no soldier was small enough to follow me.
I was lucky. But my luck ran out not much later.
If there had been more time, I would have made more salve for the woman with the burns. I would certainly not be planning to escape in a rundown canoe.
There was no time. I could not take my gold, any heirlooms or even another pair of trousers.
I thought of all the remedies I stored in the backroom.
The flasks filled with floral oils and distilled salt water.
Glass jars, rows and rows of them, filled with ingredients.
Some paid for in gold, others paid for in effort.
In another version of the dream, I bought the glass bottle, and simply returned home.
Yet, as I walked home, I knew I was being followed.
When I looked back, nothing was there. In my mind, imperial crests kept popping up.
Somehow, I believed Emperor Victor himself was hiding in the shadows, spying on me.
My living quarters were not much to look at.
Every inch of my home was dedicated to my craft.
Even the hay that I slept on, I turned into fibres that were used to thread wounds.
The people I cared for, and the memories of my mother, were all tied up in the remedies I made.
If the empire got to me, her memory would be gone, and so would I.
The last dream I had was of me escaping.
From my hut, I grabbed a shawl for the long nights.
With that, my satchel was full. I stepped over a box full of honeycombs and a jar of butterfly wings.
I pushed the back door open. The wood screeched and it got stuck somewhere on the seashore.
A heap of sand collected behind it. I could just wiggle my way out through the gap in the door.
I looked down to the coastline of Auriyonne, the drowned town, one last time.
The sloping hill my home was built on. The waves receding.
To my left were the dunes that housed my escape plan.
The dunes I would hide behind as a child, spying on fishermen.
I would steal a fish, or chase a salamander onto one of their boats.
To my right, I hoped to see the fishing boats, but there I saw a man.
His stature unlike any other. His back was facing me.
His hair was black and messy. He was wearing a grey fur cloak.
There was something about him. Something warming.
I tried to get closer to him. When I blinked, he was gone. Suddenly, all I could see was light.
That was when I came to. Blinding lights upon opening my eyes. A warm body below me. A full sheath, pressing into my belly. Braided hair getting into my nostrils. I was being carried by a werewolf.
“You were out for quite a while there.” To my right, another one.
That man spoke to me. “Three days, I believe it was.” A man that was even taller than the woman who captured me.
Brown hair cascading off his shoulders. Two daggers, furs and leather.
Two people of proportions so outlandish, I could scarcely believe they were real.
The scent of the forest confirmed my suspicions.
“Werewolves,” I remembered. I had to catch my breath. Enemies of the empire. I had never seen a werewolf before, and yet I was sure.
“What did you do to me?” I asked.
“We did nothing. It was the imperials that drugged you,” the man answered.
The man held out a hand for me to take. It was a surreal experience.
His hand was rough and large. His neck was decorated by a scar similar to the bite of a vampire.
Fangs had marred the flesh. The mating bite of a werewolf.
With all the confidence I could muster, I grabbed his hand.
He helped me to stand, as I let go of the woman that had carried me away from home.
I stumbled around a bit before finding my footing.
“He is tiny.” The dark-skinned woman spoke.
“I am perfectly normal-sized! You are just gigantic.” My voice was hoarse. And it was not completely true. I was relatively short. But that was to be expected, as I was an omega. And magics were human-sized. To my surprise, the man laughed.
“My name is Alain,” he said. A dimpled smile.
“Can you walk?” I took a cautious step forward.
I was too drowsy and drugged to be terrified.
I was in a forest. The canopy was dense and trees reached far and wide.
I took several steps. I steadied my footing.
I stared at the woman that was walking forward with confident strides.
“That’s Erna,” he introduced the woman with the beautiful dark braids. “Ready to tell us what you are?”
“You took me, and you don’t even know what I am?
” I answered. I could have told them, but I wanted to keep what little leverage I had close to my chest. Werewolves could not scent my designation or see through the veil of my glamour.
The woman, Erna, looked back at me. A warning.
“I’m sorry,” I said. They had shown me mercy so far. Alain sighed.
“We know the empire wants you,” Alain said. “Care to tell us why?” I simply shook my head. I had my ideas, but I was not completely sure either.
Several nights before I was captured, a soldier came to my door. He asked for my name. I told him a lie. He was looking for magical beings among village and town healers.
“Would you care for a drink?” I had asked the soldier. He refused. He said he was on a mission. I told him a story, a story of magic. Of a healer in Cambria, several towns over, who had hair the colour of fire. Eyes like the forest, going by a funny name.
“Do you need a place to stay?” I asked, and again he refused. He took the bait, na?ve as he was, not knowing I was describing what was hiding underneath my glamour.
I knew then I was a wanted man. That I had to leave town.
But there were patients who needed me. A mother ready to give birth. An old man with a fever that had not broken yet. Auriyonne was my home, and I was not running. At least not voluntarily.
“If he refuses to tell us anything, we should kill him,” Erna said. “What if he is a spy or a traitor?” This made me laugh. Not because it was funny, but because it was a bizarre accusation.
“We will not kill him,” Alain said. “There is a reason Emperor Victor wanted him alive.”
“You’ll carry him when he gets tired,” Erna said. “He’s slowing me down.”
“I think Axel will want to meet you. Hear what you have to say,” Alain said.
“Axel? Axel the bloody General?” I asked. Or rather, I squeaked. Embarrassing, but understandable to anyone who has heard the rumours of the General and his flaming sword. The leader of the werewolf rebellion.
“That’s the one,” he said.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked. The General lived in the city of Kanna, all the way up north. Alain only smiled. He had a kind smile, and his dimples were disarming.
Emperor Victor wanted me for my magic. I was sure of it by then. Which was the better outcome: Being taken by the empire, or by the werewolves? What if the General used me as a trade offer, or a pawn in the war against the empire? I could run into the forest, but I would never survive on my own.
Somewhere in my body I was filled with the frightening feeling that I always knew this was going to happen. That I was right where I needed to be.