Darkness Consumes

Where am I? Darkness has enveloped the world, but I can see my own pale skin with ease. I’m naked and standing on shadows as even darker images drift around in the distance. Last I remember… Images of a bloody, mutilated mess that was once my body flashed in my head. I gagged at the thought then realized. Oh. I’m dead. What am I going to tell mother?

Is my soul stuck? Do I need someone’s blood to awaken me? Then I hear a faint laughing. From hundreds of voices. It echoes throughout the darkness as it grows louder and louder until I see the source. “Ah, thy spiritual sense has awakened at last.”

Four pure red eyes, save for tiny yellow pupils, glow in the darkness as their body approaches me. The eyes were attached to a massive wolf-like beast whose fur is seemingly made of shadows. Bone-coloured horns poke of its chin and erupt out of its spine. Despite the darkness of the world, I can still see an even darker mist slowly dance around it. Then its jowls lift to reveal teeth. It’s smiling?

“Ahh, at long last, the pup’s eyes open to greet the world. I greet thee, mortal.” Its voice is a collection of a hundred separate and smooth voices that rage into a single sound and echo lightly throughout the realm. His mouth still hasn't opened.

I ask the first thing on my mind. “What are you?”

“I presume thou art asking for a name, yes? I have gone by many names, the most recent of which, is one thou art quite familiar with. A name thee haven’t used to address, but rather to identify.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Thou art not versed in riddles? Yet thou associates thyself with a witch? Very well. I’ll speak more directly from this moment forth. Currently, I call myself by thine own name. Kar’Desh.”
As he speaks, he walks around me in circles.

“I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

“Tell me, young elf. Doth thou know of legends? Tales and stories, of days long past?”

“I asked, what’s going on.”

His voices raise to a shout. “Patience runt! I am answering thy question. Now tell me. Doth thou know of legends.”

I don’t know what’s going on and I certainly don’t want to anger this thing further. I should play along until I know more. “I’ve been told various stories, but I never payed them much mind.”

“Ahh, a folly most foolish. Ignorance is blindness runt. Then tell me. Ulfskard of the North. The name of a human most famous. Doth thou know of him?”

“I don’t.”

“Then have thou heard of those whose bodies morph under the influence of the Moon? To a form befitting of their primal ancestors.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Art thou just ignorant, or have I truly become that obsolete? The situation is regrettable, no matter how one views it. Then let me regale you, young pup, in the story of Ulfskard.”

The dark world shifts and alters itself. Is it displaying the story in images? It looks like a painting. The wolf continues.
“In an age long past, elves worshiped the many Lords of the world from atop their grand arch trees, where they witnessed the world passing by. I was one such lord.”
He’s one of the ancient lords?
“The first to be revered as such. The Lord of the Moon. And I; the first to be abandoned. Ulfskard came down from a land of ice and snow. A harsh land to be sure. He arrived before the elves with a mission, although they did not yet know what. He began turning my followers against me, convincing them that I! The first Lord; was an evil one!”
The world around us begins to rumble as he shouts.
“That my method of worship was unnatural! The heresy! Through the gifts! I had wrought and bestowed upon him; he turned my followers against me! But of course, a mere cur could never stand against a Lord. No. He enlisted the assistance of the other Lords. Together they had imprisoned me within that cursed vase; the very one, thou shattered.”

What I had unleashed was an ancient lord. Countless years of built-up rage and hatred was standing before me. His four eyes stare right though me as he says “Thou art beginning to understand, yes? The power thou released unto the world?”

“If you’re one of the lords, where are we? Am I dead?”

“Nay. Thy spirit is yet bound to thy flesh. Thou art standing somewhere within the forest. Currently, our consciousness is within thee. Within thy core, where mages call upon their mana.”
The floating image dissipates and alters itself to supposedly display what I’m seeing. He’s right. I’m standing in the forest, but my hands... They’ve turned into large claws.
“Thy flesh is resisting my gifts. Mortals always do the first time. Thou will likely resist for the next few transformations. All in vain for there are none who can refuse my gifts for long.”

“What am I becoming?”

“They were once called werewolves; the mortals who shift under the moon. Thou have seen the power this form brings. Thy previous battle awakened the beast within, and thou tapped into it hence thine exemplary performance.”

That’s right. After I… I tore a mage’s head off? With my bare hands? I heave at the thought. “What happened after that fight? Why am I in the forest?”

“I have been observing the world through thine own sensory organs. All that thou know, I know. I awakened shortly before I brought thy body here. I assumed temporary control over thy flesh and ran.”

“Why did you run into Lunatic’s Spires? What if something attacks me while I’m trapped in here?”

His myriad of voices chuckle. “Fret not young mortal. The creatures of this woods have strayed clear of my temple for ages. Now? They shan’t approach thee out of primal fear.”

At least I know my body is safe. But… “Why are you here? If I’m not dead, then why are we meeting?”

He sits and closes his eyes. “Hmm… A question I’ve pondered since my arrival. Thy soul is rather unique. ‘Tis most rare to find one with a soul large enough for two, let alone the other being a spirit of great power. During my encasement, I felt a great source of mana released nearby. Therefore, at the peak of my dulled power, I lured thee to me.”

"So, the Aroura I saw was just an illusion from your lure?”

He thinks for a moment before answering. "Aroura is the witch, yes? The illusion I cast merely delved into thy mind and lured thee with the object or person thee wished to see most."
Hmm? His spell must be warped then because I doubt Aroura is the one I wanted to see most. He continued. "I had meant for thy reward for freeing me to be far greater than thy mortal mind could've imagined. I had meant to thank thee, however my appreciation went awry."

Thank me? I grasp my chest, remembering the indescribable amount of pain from our first meeting. “Some gratitude.”

His many voices adopted an aggravated tone. “I was granting thee my gift, whelp. But as I did so, thy soul absorbed me on its own. I, of course, attempted to escape the grip of yet another vessel, however, my power has been severely dulled. Now, we are bound as one.”

I’m bound to a Lord? No wonder I was able to.
Images from my fight with the wizards passed through my head.
I gag again as I remember crushing someone’s head under my grip. As I recover, I ask The Lord of the Moon, “Is there any way to separate our souls?”

“It is unheard of, that a mortal could carry a Lord within his soul. A method likely does not yet exist. It would stand to reason that a forced separation would result in catastrophic damage to all involved.”
He grumbles. “Therefore, I must remain within thy mortal flesh until our natural separation. To be stuck in such an unruly form. ‘Tis most shameful.”

If he’s truly trapped here… “Are you able to take control of my body?”
The thought of someone else controlling my body was almost as terrifying as dying. It would be like I’m dead, but I could still watch as my body carried on. Thinking about it makes me shutter.

“Much to my dismay, no. Thus far, I’ve only assumed command whilst thy conscious was truly asleep. I may influence thine actions, such as thy fight, but ultimately, thou remain in control.”
A wave of relief washed over me.
His eyes narrow and he growls a bit with his next words. “Don’t appear so relieved runt. There were once many who grovel for days just to glance upon my form. I have blessed thee with my words, my presence, my own mana and spells , as well as my gift! I find thine arrogance to be most unsettling.”

"What do you mean mana and spells?"

"Is it not obvious?"
My images pass through my head from my fight. A wall of swords blasted back with my voice, a person torn apart by crescent blades. The end of the world befalling upon Solaris. That was all him?
"It would appear I need not explain further."

While I’m not particularly excited about being a werewolf, I can’t deny that he’s saved me and the entire city. I should thank him in a manner pleasing to a Lord. Just this once. I get on my knees and bow. “Thank you. Words cannot express my gratitude for my life and the lives of those you saved.”
He stands and arches his back with his tail wagging slightly. He looks both surprised and pleased beyond compare.
I stand and finish my thought. “Don’t expect that a lot. I’m not one for groveling.”

“A pity. I was just beginning to enjoy thee. Mayhap I can teach the pup manners while I’m here.”

I laugh at that. “Unlikely. My mother’s tried for almost 30 years and I haven’t learned a thing.”
He just grumbles to himself.
If I’m going to be trapped here until I regain my body, I should learn everything I can. “What else can you tell me?”

He looks at me quizzically. “Curious. Why doth thou wonder?”

“If you’re going to be a part of me, I need to know everything I can.”

“Excellent pup. Knowledge is the most powerful tool, if thou know to wield it. I will share with thou what I know.”
He continues to tell me the start of the world. He tells me that he once was nothing more than a spirit wondering a desolate world when he was approached by Luna, the Goddess of the Moon.

“Wait, I thought the Lords were Gods?”

“To the elves, perhaps. The Lords are nothing more than god-like spirits, chosen by the Gods, meant to watch over the God’s creations and protect them should the need arise. A thankless task, noticed by the elves who began to worship us. I certainly had no objections.”

“So, what happens to our souls when we die? What of the elven tradition of sending the dead off?”

He tilts his head at me. “Ahh, that ceremony. ‘Tis true, that living blood excites the spirits of the deceased. When the spirit awakens, it is set to wander the world until it finds its place. Often, the souls were offered to us, whereupon we consumed them and they became a part of us.”
That’s horrific! He explained further after he saw my face.
“The soul is not destroyed. Each offering still resides within me, offering their services. Not unlike our bound. Although, a stronger soul has never rested within a weaker spirit.”

That… I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t think I could let my afterlife be in direct service to a Lord. Which has me thinking… “What if the spirit is not offered to a Lord? What then?”

“Then they wander. Aimless. There are those whose spirits turn a dark path. Cursed. Spirits such as wraiths and banshees. An existence spent preying on mortals in a desperate hope to regain their own life. Others happen upon more benevolent forces.”

My stomach churns with worry. What about all those spirits I released earlier? What would happen to them? “Is there a way to cure a curse?”

“Death. Either from the end of countless beating hearts or their own demise.”

I swallow a lump in my throat. “What happens to a spirit when it dies?”

“Speculation and conjecture. Thee ask the question only the Gods might know. I suspect that the nature of spirits is not unlike the spirit of nature. Though spiritual life is eternal, I speculate that if thy spirit were to fade from this realm, thou would only dissipate and feed the circle of unlife. Therefore, thou may be reborn into a new form.”

I’m not sure why, but that set my mind to ease. At least a little. What he just described is not at all how I imagined the afterlife, but the idea of getting a new life was somewhat reassuring. Even if it was different than what I imagined.

He changes the subject and continues to tell the weaknesses and strengths of a werewolf. I should avoid silver and wolfsbane flowers at any cost, as they are apparently the weakness of a werewolf. He tells me that werewolves transform under the influence of a full moon then boasts of the werewolf's power, claiming it's one of the most powerful beings in terms of pure strength in addition to the ability to regenerate damage within a short span of time. That regeneration is the only reason I’m still alive. Apparently, to truly kill a werewolf you have to use silver or wolfsbane to nullify the regeneration or remove the head or heart.
He also tells me that I have an uncanny aptitude for magic which is why I was able to cast those spells without channeling or training and ‘minimal’ damage. I thought losing my palms was fairly substantial but apparently I’m just a cry baby.
He starts telling more stories about the elven society before his imprisonment.

My head feels itchy like it’s covered in grass. As I lift it, I notice that the world has regained colour and The Lord of The Moon is gone. I’m awake.