Blood Moon Chronicles: Book 1: Beneath the Blood Moon

by James Howlette

Copyright© 2012 by James Howlette

A Blood Moon Story (1)

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Description: Davik is a young man, with a past filled with tragedy and pain. He returns to his village to pick up the pieces, and to find the creature that killed his family. Will he find it, before it finds him? Is he ready to find out the secrets finding the creature would reveal?

Tags: Some Sex, Fiction, non-anthro, First, Oral Sex, Petting, Size, Big Breasts, Slow, Violent

Published: 2012-05-23

Updated: 2018-12-29

Size: 55,790 Words

Chapter 1

Looking back I wonder what my life could have been like. How things could have been different, but I know that there is nothing that I can change about the past. My past has made me the man that I am, with all the good and bad that has come with it. But I digress. I should explain how things began, so that you can understand how I wound up here. I spent the early years of my life in the small village of Cartha. It was a quiet place, found within the Tranik Forests of Bardack Province. The village was not bothered much by the Dran that governs the province, with the taxes low and manageable based on what my father would say. The village was filled with little homes making the outer ring of the village, while the shops and stores made up the interior.

The northern area of the village was set aside as the home of the Patron, with a multi-level house, a stable, out buildings, and a lot of land surrounding it. To the south of the Patrons estate was the village square.This area of the village was home to the marketplace, where the village would buy and sell goods each day. Within the very center of the market place was a large fountain, built by my ancestors, which gave the village water. To the south of the village square was the school and church. There were around five hundred people living in the village and it was a happy place. Everyone knew everyone, and everyone seemed happy to be living there. You would think our home was perfect, and for the most part, you would be right. It was a great place to live until the day after my eighth birthday, and the night of the blood moon.

My birthday seemed to start like any other day. School had just finished, and all the other kids had gone off to have fun. I on the other hand had gone out to the woods to play with my best friend Violet and some of the other kids. Violet had been my best friend since I could remember, since our parents seemed to be close friends. We had spent every class together, played together and even had dinner together on occasion. We had spent the afternoon running through the woods, playing tag in the forest with our friends. While we were playing, Violet and I found the best spot for a tree fort for us to play in. The tree was taller than most around it, standing at least twenty meters tall. Now where most trees went straight up, this one stopped, branched out a little in each direction, before reaching for the sky. This left a flat area that would be perfect to build the tree house on. Violet agreed with my idea, and we both agreed that our dads would be perfect to help us build it. First we would have to ask them, and both of them were rather busy with their jobs.

When we entered the city gates, which were on the west side of the village, we said our goodbyes and parted ways. I headed to my home to talk to my father, and she headed home to do the same. Her fathers house was on the western side of the ring of stores that made up the inner ring of the village. My house was on the south eastern side of that ring of buildings. There were around twenty or thirty of them at this point of the village’s life. I made my way through the market area and after a few moments arrived at our house. I took off my boots at the entrance and greeted my mother as I always did. I kissed her cheek, and gave her a big hug causing her to laugh. She was in the kitchen working on our evening meal, which looked to be my favorite stew. My mother looked young for her age and always seemed to radiate joy. She was tall for a woman, standing to father’s shoulders, who was rather tall himself. She had golden blonde hair, which curled down to her shoulders, and the warmest smile you have ever seen. To my father, and to me, she was the most beautiful woman in the whole village. She had always been warm and caring all my life, and I tried not to frustrate her too much with my antics.

“How was your day, Davik?” She asked while she cleaned off her hands with her apron. “Did you, and Violet, have a good day at school? What did you and your little friends do today?

She always asked the same thing every day with a smile on her face. Seeing that smile always seemed to make things better, no matter if it was a good day or bad. I filled her in on the things we did in school, and afterwards, telling her about the tree we had found a hundred paces north of the village.

I scratched the back of my head and asked, “Mother, do you know where father is? I would like to ask him to help us with making a tree fort.”

She shook her head and replied, “You know your father is in the shop working. The Patron asked him to make a special item for his son’s sixteenth birthday.”

I thanked her as I always did, and made my way across the room to the back door of the house. We were not rich by any means, but we had enough to live rather comfortably. Our house was one level tall, but had plenty of space inside. We had a kitchen, eating area and two bedrooms. Most of the items my mother used to cook with were made by my father. They had all been trial items, and father had always planned to start selling the perfected product. Mother never seemed to mind if they were imperfect, but always loved that his first finished product was always gifted to her. The table, chairs and other wooden objects of the house were one of a kind, made by the carpenter of the village for us. Ruben was not only the carpenter for our village, but als Violet’s father. Each piece he made were accented with unique designs that you would never find anywhere else, as a signature and gift from him. We never paid for any of them and in most cases we never had asked for it. Ruben just dropped off the piece when it was completed, taking the older or worn item to be disposed of or repurposed. In return, Father kept him supplied with all the tools and supplies he would need for his shop. They had a perfect partnership, and both families did a lot for each other.

Ruben had built the house for my parents as a wedding gift two years before I had been born. Father had made his shop as a part of the house so that he could always be close to mother and me. The shop was larger than the house, but that was because of the forge and press that father needed to smith with. Our family had been smiths since the founding of the village, and soon, father would teach me all he knew. The original shop had grown too small for my father’s needs and so it had been decided to make a new one. They took everything they needed from the old shop and tore down the remains before planning and building the new one. Once we got through our next winter, I would be old enough to become father’s apprentice. When I opened the door, I began hearing the distinctive sound of a hammer striking metal. The resounding hum filled the air with each strike. They had made sure to insulate the walls as much as they could to limit the noise that would come through the walls. Stepping through the doorway, I closed the door behind me, and made my way towards the origin of the sound.

I found my father hammering away at a thin piece of metal. Sparks were flying from the point of impact on the glowing orange object in his hands. The low light emanating from the forge made him look somewhat menacing. My father had to be the tallest person in the village. He always had to bend down to enter the door of any building in the village, save for when he was in our home. He and Ruben had made sure that they were large enough for father to move with ease. Father was also very strong, sometimes working on his various jobs without a shirt on. He was covered in muscles, no doubt from the physical labor he had done all his life as a smith. Despite his size and height, father was the kindest person you could meet. Mother always called him her gentle giant. He always helped the people of our village when he could, sometimes doing things for free if they had trouble paying for it. I only saw him get mad once, and it scared me to death.

When I got closer, I recognized the shape of the metal to be that of a sword. It was two thumbs wide at the base, and half a thumb wide at the tip. My father would put the blade in the furnace until it was red, and then hammer the metal, sending sparks flying in all directions. He would then lift the blade and look along the surface of it. He would continue until the color in the metal had faded. The next step would put the metal back into the forge and heat it up again. This process was repeated a few times. Heat, hammer, inspect, reheat - until a smile came across his face. Father only made this smile when he had gotten his work to the perfect shape. When he no longer needed to shape the metal, the next step was to temper it. He placed the blade in the water basin, cooling the metal quickly. My father would spend the morning tomorrow making the blade ready to be used. He had a unique way of tempering the steel that he would not tell me, yet. It had been something he had found out by accident, and refused to tell anyone. Only when I was his apprentice would he allow me to learn his new technique.

He turned to see me and smiled, waving me over to give him a hug. Mom hated it when he did that, because it made my clothes get covered in soot, and it took forever to wash it out. Once we stopped hugging, dad showed me what he was working on. He had the forge at maximum heat: getting close to it always made me woozy. I could see a partially finished blade, resting on my father’s anvil, the metal still dull, as it had not been tempered or sharpened. He told me how the Patron’s son was turning sixteen and his father planned for him to join the Imperial Guard. New guardsmen were required to bring a sword with them, unique to their village, and be of good standing within the village. As such, the Patron commissioned the sword to be quite extravagant, while at the same time refined, and not too gaudy.

Father expected it to be done by tomorrow afternoon - so long as he had no distractions - just in time for the evening festivities. He hoped to spend as much of the evening’s festivities with mother and me in celebration for my birthday. Father then asked why I was in the shop, since he did not want me around things that could hurt me.

“Violet and I found a really cool tree, with our friends, a hundred paces north of the village,” I told him, “we were hoping you would be able to help us make it into a tree fort.”

My father got a kind of scowl on his face as he processed what I had said. Only mother, family friends, and I knew it to be the face dad had when deep in thought. Anyone else would assume he was angry and stay out of his way. I knew this to be a sign he would probably help. We just needed Violet’s father’s help, as well since he would be our source for wood.

“So long as Ruben is up for it, I don’t see a problem,” my father replied, “we will need him to make the wood.”

I lit up and jumped at my father, hugging him as hard as I possibly could. He just laughed and hugged me back, though not nearly as hard.

Breaking the hug, Father said, “If Ruben says yes to helping us, we will begin work on it in two days, since everyone has the next two days off, due to the celebrations.”

I nodded, and ran out of the shop to head over to Violet’s house, in the market, at the other side of the village. As I made my way towards the town square, I looked up into the night sky. I was always marveled at the blood moon as it began its path through the sky. It happened once a month, whenever the moon was full. I was so entranced at the view, that I almost did not hear the scream that pierced through the busy sounds of the village

I stopped in my tracks, fear filling me, I had never heard anything like that before. People began to come running out of their homes, trying to find out what the commotion was about. As I heard another scream, I recognized the voice of the person and I realized that it was my mother screaming. The sounds that had stopped the town cold had come from my house. Despite the obvious danger, I turned quickly and ran home as fast as I could, thoughts of why she was screaming filling my head. More people were leaving their houses and running to find out what the screaming was about. As I got close to my house, I once again heard the scream, but it was garbled, and faded as soon as it came.

Ignoring the fear that was continuing to grow, I opened my house door and was shocked by what I saw. The house was torn to shreds, all the furniture was broken. Objects were strewn all over the place, but the most shocking thing was the blood. It was everywhere, the walls, the furniture, even the ceiling. The largest amount of it was around what was left of my mother. Her clothing was tattered and ripped and her body had been torn apart. Her left arm was missing from just above the elbow, and glancing around the room, I could not see it anywhere. Her belly had been torn open and looked like the contents had been partially eaten. Both of her breasts had been eaten as well and her legs had been torn off. One was over near the remains of our table and the other was near the entrance to our shop. A look of total fear was frozen on her face, her eyes empty of everything. I just stood there in total shock, numb to everything and not noticing anything around me. A loud primal roar from my father’s shop shook me out of it, as I ran to the slightly opened door.

Someone grabbed me from behind as I neared the door and I struggled to break free of their grasp. Whatever had attacked my mother was in there with my father and he too could be in danger. I kicked and screamed, fighting to break loose as I was pulled out of my house. I glanced up to see that it was Ruben trying to pull me out, and trying to calm me as he did it. Robert and Jonas, friends of my father, entered the house, paling at the sight of my mother. Both bent over and began to vomit on the floor. They shook it off and made their way into my father’s shop: the sounds of growls, yells and the banging of metal filled the air. Ruben loosened his grip, and it was enough for me to break free and make it to the open door to the shop. Robert was lying on the ground near the west wall, one of his legs had been removed just below the knee, and he was bleeding badly. A look of fear was on his face as he babbled uncontrollably. Jonas’s body was lying near the door, his chest had been slashed apart, and it looked as if his heart was missing.

What I saw next has fueled my nightmares since that night, and would probably haunt me until my death. My father was being pressed against his anvil, using a piece of raw iron to hold back the largest wolf I had ever seen. Its large maw snapping at him, the black fur glinting red in the bloody moonlight. Father was holding the iron bar across the torso of the beast, twisting it to keep its front paws from doing any damage. He kept the creature just far enough away, so it could not bite his face, but he couldn’t seem to get it off of him. As he struggled, his eyes fixed on me, and I saw fear in my father’s eyes for the first time. His fear vanished and he smiled at me, which I thought was strange. He then turned to the wolf, and let go of the bar. I screamed in terror as my fear was realized. The beast sank its teeth into his throat, shaking its head from side to side, as my father screamed. With a sharp twist, the beast ended the screaming, my father’s body going limp. It began to feast on his lifeless body, ripping and tearing into his flesh. I screamed, all the pain and sorrow washing over me.

I felt arms once again pulling me from behind as I watched the animal return to all fours, turn its head, and stare at me. My father’s fresh blood was dripping from its large fangs, with pieces of his flesh still hung from its jaws. Its golden eyes, staring into my very soul, almost as if to promise that I would see it again. It then jumped out a nearby window and disappeared into the night. I stopped struggling and fell to the floor in utter defeat. Tears filled my eyes as the realization of what I had lost finally hit me. I was alone, they were gone, I would never see my mother and father again. I would never see her smile when I would get home. Never hear my father’s laugh when I would tell him of the day’s exploits. Never enjoy playing family games or get to be father’s apprentice. I just sat there and cried, not resisting the arms that had pulled me away. When I was released, I curled into a ball, and rocked myself from side to side. My heart was filled with nothing but pain, emptiness and misery.

As I wept, I felt arms wrap around me, holding me close, like my mother had when I was sad. I opened my eyes, and looked up to see the face of my friend Violet staring down at me. Tears filling her eyes, she held me close to her, I could feel her sobs. As she held me close, she tried to tell me it would be alright. That I was not alone, but it brought me no comfort. My mother and father were gone, taken from me. I was alone. Her father appeared, lifted me up, and carried me out of the shop, out of what was once my home. I looked over to see some men of our village holding torches near the window the wolf escaped from. The last of my energy left me, the shock and pain were too much, and everything faded to black.

When I woke up the next morning, the visions of my dream were still swimming in my head. I would have to tell mother and father about it, they always knew what to say to make me feel better. I sat in my bed wondering what had made me have a nightmare like that one. It was so vivid and real, but it had to have been a dream, nothing that horrible happens in real life. As I got up, I finally realized that this was not my bed. I was not in my room, nor was it my house. The images of the dream flashed through my head as the door to the room opened. Violet stepped through with a tray of food - eggs, ham and toasted loaf. Seeing me up and confused, she quickly put the tray down, and ran to hug me.

“I am so sorry, Davik,” she whispered to me. I said nothing. I did not even hug her back, all I felt was numb.

It had been real. A monster had come in the night and killed my parents. They were gone. That beast had taken them from me.

They sent a runner to Fardun - a village to the north - where my mother’s parents lived. I would now have to live with them, until I was of age. I had never met them, as Fardun was a good four days away, and I was not very anxious to meet them. The funeral was held four days after the attack. My elders had arrived that morning, looking weary from both the travel and the reason that they were here. They introduced themselves, and did their best to make me feel comfortable with them. They reminded me of my mother, and though it hurt, it allowed me to have a part of her again. The pyre was to be lit that afternoon, and I would be leaving with them before dusk. There was no school, so Violet and I took the time we had left and went to the tree we had found - our tree.

“I wish you did not have to leave,” Violet cried, “It is not fair what happened, but it is worse that you must go!”

I fought back tears and said, “I know, I wish I could stay, but the memories are just too painful, I will miss you, Violet.”

She took out something from her boot; it was a knife that my father had made her for her birthday that year. She turned and cut her name into the tree, then turned and handed me the knife. I took it and put my name and the word ‘forever’ underneath. I was shocked when she turned and kissed me, softly on the lips. The sensation filled me with butterflies. We went back to the village, hand in hand, even when we watched the pyres catch flame and turn my parents to ash. The Patron himself spoke on behalf of them, as my father had been a friend. When the ceremony was over, I got onto the back of my elders’ wagon, and turned to see Violet near the gate. I had never seen her so sad, tears were streaming down her face. I wish that there had been something I could have done to make her feel better, but there was nothing. My gaze stayed on her until I could no longer see her, and I wondered if I would ever see her again.

Chapter 2

Elder father would tell me about the various regions of the forest that we were currently travelling through. He would explain to me what game was the best to hunt in the area. He then promised to teach me all he knew to hunt and survive in the wilderness. Elder mother would tell me about what flora was poisonous, what was edible. What would have medicinal purposes and how it can be used to help with various ailments.

Elder mother thought it would be nice to tell me about what my mother was like as a child. All the troubles and joys she had raising my mother until she was grown. She would explain about how my mother had made many friends over the years, whom I would meet at the village. While the talk of my mother did make me feel a bit better, it still filled me with the realisation that she would no longer be around. I silently wept, trying not to let them notice the pain I was going through because I knew they were going through. After a while, I could not hold it in and began to weep loudly. Hearing my pain, Elder mother just hugged me close and tried to console me. It felt just as mother had done so many times, had learned it from Elder mother. I started to think that it would not be as bad as I had thought, as they both seemed to be as great as my parents had been.

Without another word, he turned and left, leaving me to sit there and think on what he had said. He was right, letting myself get feeble and die would not honour them. Finding the creature that did this to us and killing it, would bring honour to them. My father had been strong enough to fend off the wolf, until I had entered the shop. I would need to get as strong as my father was, if not stronger. I needed to be ready, so if it ever came for me, or I ever ran into it, I could kill it. I could not get that strong sitting in here and wasting away. I would need to work hard, daily, like he had. Even harder: he couldn’t kill the beast in the end. I would make sure I was strong enough, no one else would die by that beast again.

hurt to lose them, and I do miss them at times. I treasured all that they taught me, and would put the teachings to good use. The Patron of the village allowed me to continue to live in my elders’ home until I was eighteen. I had spent the years contributing many of my kills to the village, which helped many eat better. Since there was only myself to feed, I was able to contribute even more to the village. I continued to work as a forester during the day and provide meat for the village from my hunts during the night and on my days off.

Chapter 3

I looked at the gate rising, and watched as a form was slowly revealed to me. Black boots, covered slightly with mud, which went to just below the knee. A purple skirt starting from mid-thigh, to her waist, adorned with golden stitching along the hemline. To match the boots and provide contrast to the dress, a black belt adorned with golden stitching. As the gate continued to climb, I marveled at the sight before me. She wore a purple top, cut low, revealing remarkable cleavage, the sleeves, and cut were accented again by golden stitching ... However, the most stunning thing was when I saw her face. Her eyes were like emeralds, shining brightly, filled with life. Her hair was down past her shoulder and dark as a raven, which made her cream skin stand out even more. Her lips were full and red, accented by a cute little upturned nose.

As I studied the vision before me, taking in all the beauty in such a small package, it dawned on me. I knew this woman. Something about her was vaguely familiar, and that is when I realized. Her clothing was not purple at all, but rather it was the color of the most beautiful name I had ever heard. The most perfect name, for the most beautiful of creatures, Violet. The one person whom I had missed all the years was before me. I could still feel the sensation of the kiss she had given me the day I had left the village. I jumped off my cart, and slowly approached her as butterflies began to fill my stomach. I had changed so much over the past ten years and I could see that Violet had as well. I had never thought that I would see anything so beautiful in my life. Even though I had given my name, I did not want to scare her, as my size could easily intimidate people.

I stopped a few feet in front of her, keeping my eyes focused on her’s the whole time. She studied my face for a few moments until a glimmer of realization appeared in her eyes and it seemed that she had recognized me. I stood patiently as she walked slowly around me, probably studying how I had changed since we last saw each other. She stopped in front of me, looked deep into my eyes, and crooked her finger at me. I did stand a foot taller than her, at least. Instinctively, I knew what she wanted of me, and I dropped to one knee in front of her. Funny enough, down on one knee brought me to chest level with her, but I did not dare glance at it. My eyes never left hers as she came closer, taking my head in her tiny hands. I searched her eyes and saw the same yearning that I had felt for her. We had both missed one another dearly, and I wrapped my arms around her tiny waist.

Her fragrance filled my senses, filling my heart with joy and my stomach with even more butterflies. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of her against me, the soft beating of her heart in my ears. She smelled the same as she had when we were children, a mix of lavender, violets, and a summer breeze. The scent was much more refined and yet more vivid and it drove my senses wild. Memories of the happy times we had together came flooding back into my mind. Of all the adventures we pretended to have, the games we played. Of us carving our names into our special tree and the kiss that we shared. A smile came across my face, one that had not been there for a very long time. A gasp came from her, I opened my eyes to see her standing there, and my face was now in her hands. Tears came to her eyes, a smile that I had not seen in ten years was there with it.

She jumped at me, wrapping her arms around my neck, hugging me as tightly as she could. Smiling, I wrapped mine back around her waist, and stood up. The feel of her in my arms again made my heart skip a few beats. I could not help the flood of emotions, I laughed and twirled her around. Both of us were laughing at the excitement of it all. After what seemed like an eternity, I stopped spinning us and placed her back down on the ground. We searched each other’s eyes, smiling at the other, and reveling in the joy of being with one another again.

“Welcome back, Davik,” she said, smiling brightly, “I am very happy you chose to come back to us.”

“As am I, Violet,” I said with a smile, causing her to blush, “and I don’t intend to leave you, or this place ever again!”

I took her to the wagon, grabbed the reins, and began leading us into town. Violet held my hand, as she sat on the seat beside me, a smile never leaving her face. Upon entering the town, I could really see how much it had changed, and where it had remained the same after all these years. New buildings had been built among the old ones, yet they had a shabby, worn look to them. Many homes were damaged, with poorly patched holes in walls and roofs, windows broken or covered with pieces of wood. Some of them looked downright abandoned, as if they had not seen use in the years I had been away. Cartha was now a sharp contrast to what I had left in Fardun a few weeks ago. It seemed the fortunes of the two villages had switched over the past ten years. Perhaps I could do my part to change Cartha for the better, bring it back to its previous glory.

The ground was a mess of mud and weeds, any grass that was to be found was dead and brittle. The trees that were once vibrant within the town had become dull and gray, without a single leaf to be found. The town looked like the ones from the dark stories we told around the campfire as children. The sight that really made me uneasy was the look of the people that we passed by. Every one of them had an unfriendly look in their eye, staring at me with suspicion and contempt. I had remembered this town being friendly, and welcoming when I was a child. Strangers had been treated like neighbors, with kindness and friendliness. Now, it seemed to be cold and unsettling to be in. They looked to be disheveled, less vibrant and broken people.

Despite the tension in the air and the negative looks form the people we passed, Violet was tremendously happy. We slowly made our way towards the center of the town square, where the mass of people had been when I had arrived. I saw a man at the far side of the square that I figured was connected to the Patron. No doubt, the guard who had run off had gone to notify him when I heard the commotion. As we made our way through the crowd in the village square, I was surprised at how many people were there. They were all talking amongst themselves until we came into view of the man I had seen, and then there was only silence. They studied me, no doubt noticing that Violet was holding hands with me, her smile radiating happiness.

As we approached him, the crowd began to spread farther, increasing the distance on either side of us. I could feel the hostility coming from all those who had gathered here, they looked on with suspicion. I knew I would have to be careful, as anything I said or did wrong could set them off. The crowd continued to step back until we reached the man who I believed worked for the Patron. He stood just above shoulder height to me, with fierce blue eyes and copper hair. His build was slim, of one who probably had not had to do hard work in his life, and he had a stance of arrogance and superiority. Some of his features reminded me of the Patron, though he had been much more regal and approachable then the person before me.

“Who do we have here?” he announced and I noticed his voice had a nasal sound to it, “We don’t get many outsiders in our village.”

I let out a chuckle as I got down from the wagon and said, “Well, since I am no outsider, that hasn’t changed.”

The look on his face showed that he was not amused by my retort and even seemed angry that I had talked back to him. His hands balled into tight fists and his knuckles began to turn white from the pressure he was putting on them. It seemed he was not accustomed to having anyone talk to him in any other way than with respect and awe.

“You should not speak that way to your superiors,” he growled. “Should it happen again, I will see you whipped, you insolent dog!”

My eyes narrowed, and I approached the man, whom I now realized was Brant. He had been the son of the Patron when I had lived here before and had been a little shit even then. I had seen him only a few times, and every time he was an arrogant ass to everyone because of who his father was. The night of my family’s death, my father was working on a sword for his birthday. Based on how he was acting, arrogant and self important, I guessed that he had not joined the Imperial Service, after all. If he had, that arrogance would have been beaten out of him long ago. I stopped just in front of him, and leaned down so that my face was only a half finger’s length away. I noticed a touch of fear in his eyes, but he held his ground and continued to look at me with indifference.

I sneered and said,”I would mind how you talk to me, Brant, as you would not want to be on my bad side! Now, could you get your father, so I can see about purchasing some property?”

He swallowed hard, I could see the fear in his eyes, but the anger was still there too. I knew telling him to get his father, as if to a common runner, would upset him.

“My father is dead, and has been for six years now!” he spat in retort. “ I am the Patron, and I will decide if I will allow some nobody to live in my village.”

The news that this ass was Patron was unsettling, as the Patron and my father had been close friends. It did explain the withered state of the village, as his self-importance would not allow him to care about the village like his father had. Only what he could take from them to make himself feel superior and keep him in a lavish lifestyle. This would make my return a bit harder, as Brant had always seemed to dislike me. His arrogance was getting on my nerves, but attacking the Patron would only serve to get me killed.

I saw guards approaching, watching me intently for any sign of violence. Reaching for Violet, he said, “Come Violet, I will not have you associating with trash such as him! I will take you home, and then I will deal with the scum when I return.”

Upon hearing what he said Violet turned and slapped him across his face as hard as she could. The impact knocked his head back, and left his face with a bright red handprint on his cheek. This was the first time I had ever seen her angry enough to do something that would in reality be breaking the law. Striking a Patron can result in the loss of a hand or worse, the loss of their life. The only way to stop that from happening is if the town sided with the accused on the matter. Given how he would be running the village, I would not be surprised if no one dared side against him.

“Davik is not trash or scum, Brant! If you ever call him that again, you will regret it! Do you hear me?!” The mention of my name caused the whole group of people in the square to get into an uproar.

Some were claiming I could not be Davik because he had been killed with his family during the first wolf attack. Others accused the Patron of being unjust, to a member of the community who had finally returned. The rest were just surprised at who I was, as many had not seen me in ten years.

Brant was getting angrier by the minute. Violet had disobeyed him publicly, and he looked about ready to do something very stupid. I could see that he was about to get violent, and I could not allow this fool to touch me, no matter what position he had within the village. The arguing was getting worse, shoving had begun to ensue, and Violet ended up getting pushed over. As I went to catch her, I took my eyes off Brant, grabbing her arm before her head struck a stone.This gave Brant an opportunity to attack me, and by the sounds behind me, he took it. I had expected a blow from him, but instead I heard a large gasp, and struggling behind me.

I turned to see Brant with a dagger in his hand, poised to stab me in the back. I had expected him to do something like this, as he seemed the type that never fought fairly. I was surprised to see his arm, however, was currently being grabbed by a tall middle aged man. He had a thick beard, emerald eyes, and clothes covered in small wood shavings.

“Is that any way to treat a man of the village?” the man asked calmly. “You pull a knife and think to stab him when his back is turned? Are you that much of a pathetic coward that you will try to attack an enemy from behind?”

Hearing his voice, I realized that this was Ruben, Violet’s father, and an old friend of my father. The anger and frustration on Brant’s face had started to make his face turn a bright shade of red. Ruben gave his arm a pull, eliciting a scream of pain from Brant and causing him to drop the knife. With the threat gone, I released Violet, and gave Ruben a nod. He released Brant’s arm.

“I plan to buy a home and property here,” I said to him calmly, as if nothing had happened, “and I would like to see the state of my family’s home?”

“No, that house and shop belong to me, and I will not sell them! There is no land for sale! None at all, so just leave,” he replied quickly.

I could tell he was lying, and by telling me there was no place to live, he hoped it would get me to leave. Ruben gave Brant a cold stare and Brant’s anger and frustration dissipated, replaced with what looked like fear.

“All land in the village, not occupied, is owned by me and I do not plan to sell to you,” he clarified. with an irritated sigh. “However, there is a place I do not want. It is the house on the northeastern side of town. You either take the house, or leave the village, forever.”

That was one of the areas of town I noticed had been expanded on while I was gone. I began to become interested in the possibilities of what I would be buying.

“My parent’s house was placed in a trust by your father, to be controlled by Ruben, before I left. So, it is not yours to keep, but I don’t plan to live there just yet,” I looked at him blankly and asked, “How much will the land cost me? Also, how soon will I be able to move into it?”

Anger at my contradiction of his decree flashed across his face and I could see that his anger was boiling up again.

A smug smile then appeared on Brant’s face, “It will cost four hundred Drectars for the land. You can move in as soon as I have the money. Though I doubt someone as pathetic as you could have that much money on his person.”

He laughed at his last statement. It was high, nasally and irritating. He probably assumed that, due to how I was dressed, and how I arrived, that I would not have that much money. Four hundred Drectars would see a man live comfortably in a town like this for quite some time. Thankfully, I had more than three times that amount, and looked forward to the smug look disappearing when I gave it to him. Especially in front of all these people, it would no doubt tear him down a peg.

“Ok,” I replied in a sullen tone, turning and going to get the satchel that elder mother had given me. He smiled, as he no doubt believed I was going to my cart to leave the village. Violet looked at me quizzically as I picked up the bag, I simply winked at her. I opened the interior pocket of my satchel, and began to collect the money that was asked for. I made a show of it, making it seem as if I was counting to see if I had enough, making sure that I did not show the higher value Drectars. Violet smiled at the display, realizing that I was messing with him, but not sure how I was doing it.

After a few moments, I closed the satchel, placed it back on the wagon, and approached Brant. I sighed, and placed four 100-Drectar coins in the Patron’s hand, saying, “This is all I have”.

He smugly looked at what I had given him. No doubt, he assumed they would be green or blue, but I don’t think he was prepared for the color that was sitting in his open palm. His eyes widened and the smug look was replaced with one of shock. In his hand were four red Drectars. Only the most prosperous villages had them in the treasury. I doubt even Brant had ever seen one before today. He looked at me with a look of total shock and once again began to fume. No doubt he had hoped I did not have the money, now that I showed that I had, and used rare Drectars, he was livid.

“My dear Violet, would you kindly show me to my new home? I would love the company,” I asked, using a formal expression.

Violet giggled, nodded, and took my arm, as she began leading me to my new home. I grabbed the reins and led the horses behind us. I left Brant to his frustrations and the crowd in the middle of the square. I could hear him muttering under his breath, swearing vengeance against me.

We did not say much to each other, just enjoyed the feeling of one another’s company, after all this time. I had missed her more than I had originally thought, and having her close, calmed me. The feeling became slightly dimmed as we approached what would be my new home. The land was much like the house, mostly dirt and dead grass, with sparse trees to be found. There was a destroyed wooden fence surrounding the land, it would need a lot of time to get it back to something resembling what I left in Fardun.

I could see right away why Brant gave me this one, and it just added to the things I already disliked about him. The house was quite large for a house in the village, as most were only a single level high. It seemed to have two levels and a lot of room inside, given its size. However, it was in serious disrepair; whole walls were missing wood. There were shattered windows, and sections of the roof were rotting due to exposure to the elements. I had not even seen the extent of the damage inside of the house. Depending on how bad the inside was, it would take weeks of constant work before this house would be livable. No doubt, Brant had known that, and was getting a small laugh at my expense.

I pulled the horses and mare around to the back of the house, detaching them from their harnesses. I could see that there had once been a stable there. Though it needed to be repaired, it would serve as a decent home to her for the time being. I made sure the goods on the wagon were secured until I was ready to move them inside. I locked the wagon’s wheels, a trick I developed to ensure that the wagon would not be stolen. Violet suggested that I stay with her family until the house was ready, but I told her, no. I was determined to live in that house, just out of spite to Brant. I thanked her for helping to get the gate opened, and for standing up to Brant. I was rewarded by another hug from her, and enjoyed the warmth of it. We parted ways, and I began inspection of the house, to see what needed work.

The exterior walls showed fatigue and decay of the structure. However, it was not as bad as I had initially thought. The main framework looked to be fine, making my job easier. If I had to replace the framework that had been left exposed, I would have to tear down the whole house. Thankfully, that would not be the case, as a total rebuild would take me nearly half a year. After a complete inspection of the exterior, I went inside to look at the extent of the interior damage. The stairs showed some wear and would need to be worked on; once I got the boards up, I would know if they needed to be replaced. The lower floor had the most exposure, as it had the largest holes in the walls. The upper floor only had one room that had any rot or damage; the rest seemed to have only slight warping to the walls or the floorboards. Overall, I was surprised at the state of the house given its state of disrepair. It was better than I had thought it would be. It had a lot of potential, given the right amount of time and effort.

If Brant had seen what the inside of the house looked like, I do not think he would have given it to me so easily. It was dark when I finished assessing the house, I went out back and began unloading my gear into the undamaged rooms. Since I was not sure whom I could trust, other than Violet and Ruben, I would need to find somewhere to safeguard my money and prized possessions.

As I was bringing in my blanket and other personal items, I tripped on a floorboard going into the room. As I fell, to keep my face from hitting the floor, I braced my arm against the bottom part of the north wall. To my surprise, I felt it slide under my weight, shift, and reveal a hidden portion of the wall. I had not even noticed it, as there had been no seam or noticeable difference. As I tested how to open and close the compartment, I doubted anyone else would find it. I looked closely to see how the compartment worked, intrigued to learn how to use it properly. No one would be able to open it as I had, once my repairs were done.

As soon as everything was taken care of, I headed into town to see just how much it had changed. I aimlessly walked down the streets and walkways of the village, taking in the sights of my childhood home. I took note of what houses remained, which ones were abandoned, changed or torn down. I was surprised at just how much this village had changed in ten years. After a while, I found myself in front of the village schoolhouse. Memories came to me, of times spent with all the kids, my friends, memories of Violet. Of all the memories that had surfaced, most of them had been of Violet, and I could not help the smile that appeared on my face. I turned left, and continued down the street, looking around at the houses and shops along my way. That is when I found myself in front of a memory that I did not want to relive - my family’s house.

Chapter 4

My old home looked well maintained since I had left. No doubt the work of Ruben, he would have found it wrong to let it fall into disrepair. He would have felt that it would not honor my father’s memory. I pulled out the house key that I had used as a kid so many years ago. The lock shifted with a click, and with a deep breath I opened the door. As I stepped inside, I was shocked by what I saw before me. There was no sign of the damage that had occurred that night. Ruben must have spent all these years repairing and replacing everything in the house. I went from room to room to see what had been done. Marveled at the work he had put in to restore my family home.

I made my way to the door of the shop and opened it slowly, the memories of what took place in that room flashing in my memory. The shop was dusty, and untouched. I doubt Ruben would have had the heart to enter this room. The metallic smell of old blood filled the air, and the signs of what had happened that night were still evident in the room. The damage had only been slight, however, only a proper blacksmith would be able to repair this, and neither I nor Ruben had that level of experience. I made note of what would need to be fixed, as well as paid respect to each place where someone lost their life that night. The spot where my father died was the last one, and I was filled with such loss as I did it. As I turned to leave, I noticed red light bleeding through the workshop window.

I knew instantly what that meant, and a nervous fear filled me. I ran back through the shop, through the house, back onto the street. I looked up to the sky to have my fears confirmed. The moon was high in the sky, blood red and full, just like that night. Instinctively, I felt that something awful was going to happen tonight, and I needed to be prepared. I ran back to my house as fast as I could, bumping into people as I went. They, too, were scrambling as I was, only they were heading for the safety of their homes. I, on the other hand, had other plans, I was heading for my weapons. I made it to my house, and ran up the stairs, two at a time. I opened the hidden compartment, collected my bow, arrows and hunting knife. That is when I heard them. The screams, of terror and pain, filling the air. The beast that killed my family and ruined my childhood, the beast of my nightmares, was back!

I hurried to the front of my house, listening to the sounds of terror filling the village. I used the screams to find out where in the village my prey was. The screams seemed to be coming from the western edge of the village. I nocked an arrow, and began to make my way through the village toward the source of the screams. People were still running through the streets, terror on their faces and doubt in their eyes: doubt that they would make it through this night alive. I held the bow to my side, arrow pointing down, so as to not accidentally injure the people rushing by me. Hundreds of thoughts, doubts, and fears passed through my mind. I shook them off. I could not afford to be distracted now, I had spent years preparing for tonight. I walked quickly but carefully, running would risk alerting the beast to my arrival, making it harder to kill. However, taking my time would prove to be dangerous for the villagers, so I broke into a fast run.

I made my way across the town, the screams were getting louder, but I was starting to hear the distinctive sounds of a wolf. Growling and biting, the sound of claws scraping against wood. I had yet to hear the screams lessen or stop altogether. That would mean that no one had been killed yet, but I could easily have been wrong.

As I got closer, I slowed to a brisk jog. Once I was a few feet from the source of the screams, I slowed further to carefully approach. I needed to make sure that they did not hear me, which would give me the best advantage. I knew that I was up-wind, which would keep them from noticing me by scent. As I got near, I heard something that made my heart skip a beat, a distinctive second growl. There was more than one beast attacking the village! I was close enough now, that I could hear the difference in the growls.

Fear began to grow in me. I had not considered that there would be more than one of these beasts. This changed everything. I was not completely sure that I could handle one giant wolf, let alone two or more. I stopped my approach near the edge of a house, taking deep breaths to calm my nerves. If I wanted to survive this encounter, I would need to be extremely careful.

As I steadied my nerves, I leaned towards the edge. I needed to see what I was dealing with, so that I could better my chances of surviving this. I took a quick glance, to see where the wolves were from where I was standing. There were indeed two wolves, not far from where I was standing. I returned to hide back behind the wall and collect myself. I prepared the arrow to fire, setting my aim as I got closer to the edge of the wall. I paused to focus my mind, empty it of everything but the task that was laid out before me.

I turned the corner carefully to ensure that I would attract no unwanted attention and soon I bore witness to my prey. What I saw was worse than I thought: they were larger than a normal wolf, and there were now three of them. I did not see where the third wolf had come from, and I was worried as to how many more there could be. I had not counted on there being more than one wolf. Though I had experience with killing more than one at a time before, these were no ordinary wolves. The wolf on the left was digging at the ground beneath the door, while the wolf at the middle of the group was scratching and bashing the door. The third wolf, on the right, was up on its hind legs, trying to tear off the shutters on the windows. They were frantically trying to get into that house and I could hear a baby crying inside. If left there, I had no doubt they would break through and kill the family in the house in only a few short moments.

I returned to where I was hiding, and thought of how to deal with this. I could not kill all three fast enough to keep them out. Hell, I was not even sure that I could kill one of them, so I had to change my plans. I had been prepared to deal with two, but the third showing up had made that plan useless. I needed to get all three of them away from the house, and keep the family inside from danger. I looked around, and saw the guard just above the back of the house. It looked like the guard wall was situated right next to the house. The guard on the wall walk had his throat ripped out: this must have been where they came in. With a stern resolve, I decided that it would be the way they left the village. However, when they left, they would be chasing a new target. I used the memories of that night to fuel me with rage, and keep me grounded as to what I had to do. I knew what I planned to do would most likely get me killed, and it terrified me.

I aimed the arrow carefully, to ensure it would do the job at hand, and strike where I needed it. I took a deep breath, knowing that this would change everything. The arrow released with a twang, zipping through the air. It struck the door, right where the three wolves were trying to break in. The arrow striking the door startled the beasts. However, unlike regular wolves, they looked at it, and turned to see where it had come from. I was not there, as I had begun to sprint to the wall as soon as the arrow had been released. It took them a few moments to realize where I was. By that time, I had already reached the wall-walk. The largest of the three wolves howled with frustration, and the three of them started after me. I stood there long enough to make sure they were chasing after me - as soon as they began to move, I leaped over the wall, down onto ground below.

I landed with a thump, spreading my legs wide and using my free hand to brace the fall. I did not look back to see if they were coming, I knew they were, and any delay would get me killed. I burst into a full run, heading north into the deep forest, putting as much distance between me and the town as possible. I could hear the wolves behind me. I had a sizable lead, but they would make that up quickly. I did not risk turning to look where they were, I could hear them moving and growling, getting closer and closer to me.

As I ran, I caught sight of the tree Violet and I carved our names into it so many years ago. I was right where I needed to be, and I pushed myself as hard as I could run. I leaped into the air and grabbed one of the high branches of a nearby tree. Climbing as fast as I could, I made my way higher and higher up the tree. I could hear the wolves approaching, I only had a few minutes to put my plan into motion.

I made it fifty feet up the tree, where I could see limbs of an adjacent tree overlap the ones of this tree. I had been hoping for this opportunity and made my way to the overlapping limbs. Quickly, I made my way onto the branches of the adjacent tree, cutting across them to the opposite branch. I repeated the same process to get to another tree, and began to search for an acceptable perch. I noticed one about twenty-five feet above the ground, and two trees over. I made my way there as quickly as I was able, without making too much noise, as I did not want the wolves to hear me. I got to the branch, and planned my line of sight from the tree to where I expected the wolves to stop. I had a clear view, giving me a good vantage point when the wolves arrived. I was barely in position when they reached the end of my scent trail, I did my best not to make any sound that would give my position away.

I took out three arrows, and prepared them across my bow. I had never done more than two arrows at once before, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I could barely hit the targets, and give away my position, but I could not afford to take more time nocking arrows. I felt for the wind, and was glad to find it blowing across my face. This meant they would not catch my scent, but it also meant that I needed to alter my aim to compensate. My heart slowed as I centered myself, taking deep breaths to ensure as little movement as possible. I waited until the three wolves were at the base of the tree where I could see them more clearly. I studied them, trying to identify if one of those beasts below me was the one that brutally killed my family.

The wolf on the left had deep brown fur - the light from the moon made it look even darker. The wolf’s fur was incredibly long for a wolf and it looked to be a tangled mess, with bloodstains in patches in the fur. It was the smallest of the three, slightly smaller than the size of a regular wolf, and seemed to be at the bottom rung of the pack. Again, I noticed the two other wolves, chuffing at it, as if they were telling it what to do. To the right was a wolf with fur that had an orange quality in the light of the blood moon. That must have meant its fur was blond in color. This wolf was much larger than the one on the left, and its fur was shorter. Its fur was extremely short, and even in the moonlight, I could see the muscles ripple and move. It was the most intimidating of the three given the strength the beast showed.

The middle wolf was the largest of the three. From this distance, its fur had almost no shine to it at all. If not for the color of the ground and the brightness of its eyes, I would not even know that it was there. I looked at it, trying to reconcile it to my memories, I was not sure if it was as large as the one that killed my father. Though I could not confirm it, it did not matter. These wolves had to be taken care of immediately. I watched as they sniffed the last place I stepped. I slowly brought up my bow and lined up the arrows. I slowed my breathing, steadied my limbs, and released the arrows to their appointed targets. They barely made a sound, soaring through the air to their destination.

That was a preview of Blood Moon Chronicles : Book 1 : Beneath the Blood Moon. To read the rest purchase the book.

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