Info wrote:Word count: 3,003
Character(s): Nocturne the Shadow King
Story appearance(s): Soon to be introduced in the novel The She-Wolf Warrior.
Deep within a forest, there was a cottage. Within this cottage, there lived an old hag. But she wasn’t any old hag, she was a witch, and proud of it. Just as with every user of Dark Magic, her thoughts were corrupted, and thus she was very evil. However, some humanity still resided in her. This was evident when she adopted a baby boy.
It was night and she was sleeping peacefully. When suddenly, there was a knock on her door, which woke her up. Who was disturbing her at this hour? Who dared disturb her? With a groan she got out of bed and walked to the door, swinging it open. She wasn’t expecting what was on the other side.
There on her doorstep was none other than a baby boy. Wrapped only in a tattered cloth, which was definitely not warm enough for a child. Especially in the fall. He was a newborn, as well. She knew this immediately. She looked up at the sky through the thick trees and saw that it was a blue moon.
She picked the child up, who started to cry. She rocked him as she walked inside her warm cottage. Lifting a gnarled hand, she unwrapped the child, and smiled at what she saw. On his chest was a blue wolf’s pawprint. This child was a lycanthrope. She now knew why his parents left him. But why on her doorstep? Who would give a baby to an old witch?
Maybe they thought she’d eat him. People loved starting rumors like that. They always made monsters out of those things which they didn’t understand. She threw the tattered cloth in the fire and wrapped the naked babe in a spare blanket.
She rocked him some more and sang him a wordless lullaby. The baby finally stopped crying and fell back to sleep. She lifted the sleeping child up and thought of what to name him. Finally a name popped up in her head. She pulled the child close to her chest and whispered the name in his ear.
“Little Fang,” she whispered. “My Little Fang.”
Years passed and the child grew. Even though lycans didn’t shift until they were eight, this boy still looked like a wolf. His teeth were sharper than normal, and his arms and legs were long and lanky. He also liked to go barefoot and walk on the balls of his feet. His hair was also a silver grey, and his eyes were a bright silver.
The witch told him to call her Grandmother, and she didn’t tell him that he was abandoned. She just told him that his parents left him with her. She didn’t find a need to tell him what he was, or that he was abandoned.
Whenever he asked about the marking on his chest, she just told him it was a birthmark. Which was true. He was also a little
off in his behavior. At the age of four he hurt his first animal, a bird which he shot with a slingshot. Of course, this didn’t instantly kill it. So he watched as the bird helplessly hobbled around with its broken wing, and laughed joyously
When Grandmother saw this, she did what any parent would do and scolded him and ended the bird’s suffering. She then cooked the bird for dinner and forced him to eat it.
“Never hurt anything without the intention of eating it. You know better, Little Fang.” she said during dinner as she watched him eat the bird.
“Yes, Grandmother.” he said simply. Birds didn’t taste too good, nor did they give much meat. He went to bed hungry that night.
But this one single event didn’t teach him. He still mistreated animals. Just without letting his grandmother know. He also learned how to lie at the age of five. And everybody believed his lies.
One day the witch and him went to the kingdom, when he was at the age of six. She needed some things that she couldn’t produce on her own. Even though she hated going to the kingdom and buying things at the market, she had to. She didn’t have any money, though, so she simply traded or sold the items she knitted for her items.
While at a trader, she took her eyes off Fang for just a moment, and he dashed into the crowd. He heard some children playing and wanted to see if he could join, or just to see why they were making the noises. As he had never played with others before.
Five boys between the ages of five and seven happily kicked a ball around. This looked like fun, so he walked up to them to join. The moment the boys noticed him, they froze and stared at him before running off, screaming.
“Hey, come back!” he called to them, running after him. He found himself to be a very fast runner.
The children stopped when they came up to a man dressed in shiny armor. The man raised his spear and pointed it at Fang.
“What is a lycanthrope doing here?” he asked the boy.
“A what?” Fang asked back.
“You!” the man yelled, poking him with the spear. “A lycanthrope is what you are!”
“Leave the boy alone, you stupid knight!” the familiar voice of Grandmother called from behind Fang. He turned and ran up to her, giving her a hug before hiding behind her.
“That demon child is yours?” the knight asked her.
“Yes. What about it?”
“Lycanthropes are not to be tolerated in this kingdom! Leave at once, or be sent to the dungeon.” he commanded.
Grandmother stood strong and laughed. She raised a hand and black smoke began to form in it. The knight backed away and the few spectators that had gathered ran. “Hollow commands. You know I could turn you into dust right where you stand. I shall continue my stay here until my shopping is over. Then I shall go back to the forest and take my demon child with me.” she told him and closed her hand, snuffing out the smoke.
The knight regained his posture before walking away rather quickly. Grandmother laughed and walked back into the trading crowd. Which parted to make way for her. Little Fang stayed behind her, not liking the glares people were giving him.
Later that day, once they got home and were eating dinner, he began to ask her questions.
“What’s a lycanthrope?” he asked her.
“Just a type of creature people are often afraid of.” she answered.
“Is that what I am? A creature?”
She looked up from her soup and stared at him from across their short table. “No, my son, you are not a creature. You are very special.”
“Then why do they hate me?”
“Because people fear that which they don’t understand. They don’t understand what ‘special’ is. So they fear it.”
He frowned. “But I don’t want to be feared.”
“That is not your decision to make. It was made the night you were born. It was made the moment people saw your birthmark.”
He paused and the place fell into silence once more as the two continued to eat their soup. When another question popped in his head;
“What was that stuff coming out of your hand that everybody was so afraid of?”
She smiled. “Magic,” she whispered, making it appear in her hand once again. “It is what makes me special, and what makes people fear me.” she told him and snuffed it out. “Do not hate what makes you special.”
He watched her magic show and listened to what she said, smiling afterwards. “Thank you, Grandmother.” he said, finishing his soup.
“You are very welcome, Little Fang.”
Later that night, as he lay in bed, he still thought about the visit to the kingdom. He couldn’t sleep. The glare from the knight, which he felt even though he couldn’t technically see the knight’s eyes. And the way the children ran from him hurt him. They looked at him in terror, and he didn’t understand why.
He looked down at his birthmark, which seemed to glow as it reflected the moon’s light shining in from his window. He placed a hand on it before sighing and throwing back his head. Grandmother always told him that he was something special. Guess that meant being feared.
Sleep still didn’t come to him, so he sat up and looked through the window. He felt something calling to him from the forest. He didn’t hear any voices, but it felt like something wanted him to be out in the forest. He got out of bed and crept to the door, slowly opening it and stepping out into the moonlight.
He stood out there for a moment, breathing in the cool night air. But then he felt the forest call to him again, so he walked towards it. Once he was in the forest he continued to walk. Until he heard a howl, which made him freeze in his steps.
Out from the forest came a large pack of wolves. They stared at him with yellow eyes as they slowly approached him. Fang wanted to run, that was what his first instinct taught him. But his second instinct soon made itself clear. These wolves didn’t want to harm him.
He got down to their level and let them fully approach him until they were nose to nose. The wolf sniffed him before giving him a lick right on his mark. He made eye contact with the wolf, and felt as if it was speaking to him. He was accepted by them. Suddenly, the wolves darted back into the forest, and he followed after them.
For the rest of that night he ran with the wolves. It wasn’t until sunrise that they led him home. But he wasn’t tired at all. No, he was energized. He now knew what he truly was. He wasn’t like the humans that hated him, he was like the wolves who accepted him. He was special.
He snuck back inside the house and laid back down into his bed, hoping that grandmother wouldn’t suspect anything. He made a mental note to continue this nightly running with wolves. Well, maybe not every night, as Grandmother may start to suspect. But every full moon, at least.
A few years passed, and he continued this without Grandmother suspecting anything. He was growing with the wolves, and it felt so good. These wolves didn’t care if he killed creatures just for fun and tortured them. These wolves wouldn’t run if he wanted to play games with them.
He was now seven years old, and his specialness would became all the more clear on his eighth birthday. However, until then, there were things that still needed to happen. Like, one night, his wolf pack getting slaughtered.
It was another full moon and he was running with them, wild and free. His feet now thickly calloused, and his lanky arms and legs muscular. He even grew his hair a little longer, refusing Grandmother to cut it up to a certain point.
He was having the time of his life, but it all got cut short when one of the wolves got shot. The six of the remaining pack members froze, as did Fang, and they all looked around for what shot their friend.
Suddenly, another arrow shot another wolf, then another. Two more wolves down. Fang spotted the hunters in the woods and ran at them with the remaining wolves. But these four hunters were skilled, and soon all four wolves were also shot down. Fang was left remaining, frozen in terror as the hunters pointed their bows at him, unsure of what to do.
“Should I shoot him?” a hunter asked another.
“I don’t know. The witch may put a curse on us if we do.”
“I wouldn’t risk it.” a third hunter said.
“Alright, so we’ll only attack if he attacks us. Because then we have an excuse.” the fourth hunter said, looking up from the group to look for the boy. But he was gone. The hunters shrugged and went to the wolf carcasses. Skinning all of them before walking away with the hides.
Little Fang was stunned. They just took the wolves hides? Sure, he killed many a creature without taking anything. But for some reason, this was different. These wolves were family. They killed family.
Tears welled up in his eyes and he ran back for home, sobbing. Once he got home, Grandmother, who was awoken by his cries, asked him what was wrong. He told her everything.
He thought he’d get scolded for spending so much time with the wolves without telling her. But instead, all she did, was comfort him.
“We’ll get our revenge. Don’t worry. Those hunters will pay for what they did.” she told him.
This comforted him and he calmed down. She tucked him in bed before going back to bed herself. As Little Fang lay in bed, his anger for humans worsened. He now despised them to the point of wishing that he didn’t look like them. He wished he looked like a wolf. He didn’t want to be associated with those cruel and ugly humans.
His wish came true a few months later on his eighth birthday. He got the same urge to sneak outside in the middle of the night, but this one felt stronger. The moment he was out and in the light of the full moon, which was actually blue, he felt something awaken inside of him.
He closed his eyes and imagined running with the beautiful wolves in the light of the full moon. When he opened his eyes, he looked at his body, stunned. It had changed shape.
He was now much taller, his legs looked like elongated wolf legs, and his hands had sharp claws on them. Even his feet were now wolf paws. His muscles were even larger, as well. He felt his face with his hands and felt a long muzzle and pointed ears. His head was now a wolf’s head. He also had a black bushy lion’s mane around his neck, contrasting with his silvery grey fur.
He smiled and let out with a laugh of joy. He was a wolf, but had the bipedal posture and hands of a human. The best of both worlds. He looked to the moon and let out with a loud howl. He really was something special. He was a lycan, king of the wolves.
His joy was interrupted by the voice of Grandmother.
“I see you have discovered your gift.” she said.
He turned around to look at her, a joyous grin plastered on his face. “Yes, yes I have! And it feels wonderful.” he exclaimed, jumping.
“Good, enjoy this feeling, because soon you won’t be able to feel at all.” she said and raised her hands, black smoke appearing in each of them.
He stared at her in terror, his smile vanishing. “W-what are you doing, Grandmother?”
“Taking advantage of a power I have been waiting years for.” she said sinisterly.
“But you said I was something special.”
“You are, I didn’t lie about that.”
“But I thought you loved me.”
“
Loved you? Did you really think that? Oh you naive child, I was merely just waiting my time for you to shift. Now that it’s here, I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to do.” she said and shot the smoke balls at him.
But Little Fang dodged her attack. Spending so much time with the wolves helped increase his agility. “But my parents entrusted me in your care!”
“Your parents hated your mark and abandoned you on my doorstep. They probably expected me to eat you. They hated you. They do not care what happens to you.” she said bitterly, forming two more smoke balls in her hands. “I am not your grandmother. I am just a wicked old witch who lives in the woods.”
Little Fang couldn’t take any more of this. He snarled, baring his teeth. Even with her magic, he knew he could defeat her. The wolves taught him many things. The hatred that had built up inside him for so many years finally burst free. Letting it all out on the witch.
After dodging two more smoke balls he attacked her and leapt upon her before she was even able to shoot any more smoke balls at him. He didn’t hesitate in breaking her neck, killing her instantly. If he was thinking clearly, he probably would’ve made her suffer, but he was filled with nothing but anger, currently.
Victorious over his kill, he stood and let out with a loud howl. He wished he could enjoy this victory with the other wolves, but he got over it quickly. Because he planned on going for the hunters next.
But he wasn’t done yet. He wanted to make sure every last bit of his childhood was erased. He grabbed one of the lanterns and lit it, after dousing the entire house in the lantern oil. He then tossed the lantern at the house, the place catching fire instantly. Burning away not only the little cabin he spent eight years of his life in, but also the witch who raised him.
He didn’t need these things anymore. These were all remnants of when he was human. Which no longer existed. For all he knew, this new form was the one he was born in. It was his true appearance, and he’d never leave it.
The last thing he changed was his name. Little Fang sounded too innocent, too young. No, now he was Nocturne, the King of the Shadows. The King of the Wolves. He let out with one last howl before running off, never to visit the little cabin in the woods again. Which was now just a pile of ash.
He was something special, he was a Little Fang. But now he’s something wonderful. He is Nocturne.
Just don't post it here until I say so, I prefer a clean thread.
