Shift, Chapter 12

NB: I hated writing this chapter. It sucks. But it only gets better from here on kids!

***

THE LAWS

1. Refusal to acknowledge The Laws will be punished severely.

2. New Laws can only be created by the agreement of the entire Court.

…

14. A Leader may only take rule if he takes it according to the established laws of that Kingdom.

Extract from “The Laws: in translation.”

***

“I can’t see them any more,” Rhydyn said in a tone of great disappointment.

“They’ve probably moved on,” Tanon replied resignedly.

“They were getting closer,” he said, still infused with some optimism.

“Who knows where they’ve got to,” Tanon shrugged.

Suddenly, two forms materialised in the centre of the room, stretching and unfolding into two women. One was slightly taller than the other, with piercing silver-blue eyes, but they were otherwise very similar in appearance. Rhydyn and his parents jumped back in shock.

“Who are you?” Rhydyn asked warily, his eyes moving between the two.

“I am Riarna Ruanthi and this is my sister, Srynia Ruanthi. We are horse farmers from Ystia.”

“Ystians? Well, citizen of Callania, I suppose I had better introduce myself in return,“ he replied with a touch of ironic grandeur. “I am Prince Rhydyn and these are my parents King Tanon and Queen Elerina,”

“Your highness,” Riarna and Srynia murmured in unison, inclining their heads in a royal salute.

“Less of that,” Rhydyn replied, waving his hand in a slightly admonishing gesture. “Twins are you? Non-identical though.”

The sisters nodded acknowledgement of the fact.

“What brought you here? It isn’t safe, you know,” Elerina asked, a slightly worried frown creasing her face.

“I just knew we had to come,” Riarna replied, slightly embarrassed. “We want to know what we can do to help.”

“We’ve lost both our parents to this war already,” Srynia added, with a shake of her head. “We want to put things right.”

“There’s nothing we can do from here,” Rhydyn replied and began pacing the room, rubbing one hand against his neatly trimmed beard. “How did you get in here anyway?”

“Flea-form,” Srynia replied proudly. “They are very poor at recognising Invertebrate-shifters.”

“It is very rare to find invertebrate-shifters,” Elerina replied in some surprise, looking at the two sisters with increased respect.

“We just want to know what we can do to help,” Riarna said, looking at each of them individually.

“Our country is in dire need of military assistance,” Tanon replied, meeting her gaze. “Even with the help of Aetyorthiri, there is little we could do against the combined strength of Silvetera and Arrozale.”

“Could we not turn them against themselves? Like in the old days?” Rhydyn asked, a slightly hopeful expression crossing his face.

“Not as such,” Elerina replied, looking thoughtful. “Penry is too clever for that.”

“We could try to prove that his control of Arrozale is illegal,” Tanon continued thoughtfully.

“Illegal? He’s the King; he makes the laws,” Rhydyn exclaimed, slightly bewildered.

“But if it is illegal, then there is some hope for us yet,” Tanon replied, leaning against the window frame.

“We could incite the assistance of the Law Makers,” Elerina continued serenely, folding her hands delicately across her lap.

“Of course!” Rhydyn exclaimed excitedly, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Srynia said in her most polite mannerisms, “but who are the Law Makers?”

“The Tygeriqans,” Rhydyn replied with a broad smile. “The pinnacle of power in the East. They influence every Kingdom from Gentrare eastwards. They make certain incontrovertible Laws. And they enforce them. They are singularly the most powerful military nation in the world!”

“But why would they help us? We’re not an Eastern Kingdom,” Riarna asked curiously.

“Money,” Tanon stated blandly. “They were constantly fighting a tax-war with Silvetera over trading rights and such. If we could prove this war was both illegal and financially detrimental, they’d be bound to act.”

“That’s no small ask,” Riarna replied dubiously. “How do we even begin to do that?”

“First, we’ll need to speak to Aetyorthiri. We need to be sure they are on our side,” Tanon replied, with a nod of his head.

“They may be able to help us put together our case for the Tygeriqans,” Elerina continued.

“From there, we will probably then have to travel East. Meet the Leaders directly,” Tanon added, with a slightly wry smile.

“But first, we’ll have to bust our way out of here!” Rhydyn exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together.

“You will have to,” Tanon corrected. “Elerina and I will remain here.”

“But you’re not safe here! Penry is probably counting down the days until he has you executed!” Rhydyn replied in some distress.

“No, your father is right,” Elerina answered him firmly, putting her hand on his arm. “We are the elected monarchs of this country. If we escaped, Penry would tear the country apart looking for us. He will not spare the same expense over you. I’m sorry to be so blunt. But it’s true.”

“I don’t know whether to be pleased about that or not,” Rhydyn replied ruefully.

“You can still act as our Royal Emissary. Speak on our behalf in the Councils,” Tanon added, his tone reassuring.

“First we need to think of a way of getting you out of here,” Riarna said thoughtfully. “Can you manage any small-scale shifts?”

“Some,” Rhydyn replied, shuffling his feet slightly uncomfortably. “How small-scale are you
talking?”

“Well, Srynia and I got in as fleas. Something of that sort?”

“Well, ah, there’s the thing…” Rhydyn looked to his parents for help. With none forthcoming, he soon continued. “I can only do mammalian shifts. I can‘t do any others. Of any description.”

“Not even temporarily?” Srynia replied in some surprise.

“No, sorry. Never been able to. Sorry.” He looked slightly ashamed. Srynia gave him a sympathetic look, just restraining herself from giving him a hug.

“There are some small mammals,” Riarna said, tilting her head as if sizing him up. “What’s your strongest species?”

“Dog.” Rhydyn shook his head, blushing slightly at their raised eyebrows. “I know. Not very regal, huh?”

“Dog could work,” Srynia affirmed optimistically.

“You know, it actually could,” Riarna added, striding over to the door and running her hands down the panels.

“How exactly?” Rhydyn asked, slight doubt tingeing his tone.

“You keep dogs here, right?” Riarna asked, turning away from the door.

“Some. But they’ll know the difference between a Shifter and a dog. Otherwise I’d have tried to escape days ago.” Rhydyn gave her a slightly patronising look.

“Do you keep a hunt?” She met his gaze evenly, although slightly affronted.

“We do,” he replied cautiously.

“Good distraction, don’t you think?” she replied, returning his patronising tone measure for measure.

“High risk strategy,” Tanon interrupted the two.

“But it might just work,” Elerina added with a smile.

“We haven’t even thought of a way of escaping from this room yet!” Rhydyn exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Mice,” was all Riarna said, raising an eyebrow, a slight smile curling round her lips.

“Mice? This plan just gets more and more crazy!” Rhydyn shook his head. “Fine! Anything to get me out of this room.”

“You’ll have to show us the way,” Riarna replied with a nod.

“Ok. But mouse is not a strong shift of mine. I might get a bit disorientated.”

“You’ll have to try, son,” Tanon reassured him, “You’re our best hope.”

“Don’t lay so much responsibility on the boy,” Elerina lightly rebuked her husband.

“It’s alright, I know what’s at stake. I won’t let you down.” Rhydyn set his expression, putting his hands on his hips. Srynia smiled encouragingly at him.

“Let’s go then,” she said and with a flourish and shifted down into a delicate brown house mouse.
Riarna immediately joined her, whilst Rhydyn closed his eyes, focused and slowly shifted down, emerging as a slightly patchy field mouse.

“Close enough,” Srynia squeaked with a wink.

“This way,” Rhydyn squeaked back. “At least, I think…”

***

Dear Dylanon,

I read your last letter with a great deal of interest. As I am sure you are aware, I have the best interest of the country at heart. I need not remind you, I am sure, that you do not have the power to act against me. So do not even try.

Your devoted Uncle,

Penry, King of Silvetera and Emperor of the Realms.

Extract from: Inter-regal Letters: a compendium.

***

With a resounding clang the metal doors of the Council Chamber swung open. The gathered crowd gradually grew quiet, waiting patiently for the announcement that was soon to come. A man and a woman emerged from the room, arm-in-arm, sweeping toward the podium, trailing their extravagant burgundy furs in their wakes.

“We come before you today to make a most serious announcement,” the man began. “It is our duty to deliver the final verdict of today’s Council meeting. It is a decision that I, King Lahaldi, fully sanction.”

With which he gestured to the woman standing to his right. She straightened slightly, lifting her head high.

“It is likewise a decision that I, Queen Reya, fully sanction,” she announced in a clear, smooth voice.

“It has been decided that Aetyorthiri will not go to war,” Lahaldi proclaimed loudly. “That is all.”

The crowd erupted in a cacophony of mixed responses. Some were cheering, others were heckling abuse. The royal couple merely turned and re-entered the Chamber, muting the noise from outside.

“It is as we expected then,” a soft voice whispered somewhere to the couple’s left.

“Yes, Leiron,” Reya replied resignedly, “the crowd are as undecided as the Council.”

“It’s not a good day when even the mob can’t find a single voice,” Lahaldi added with a bitter smile.

“We’ve made the right decision,” Leiron Reikiseryndrani replied in a smoothly reassuring tone. “We cannot act on the behalf of Callania in the current climate.”

“I know. I just wish we could do more,” Reya replied with a sigh.

“We are doing more than the crowd will ever realise,” Leiron said with a sly smile. “That does not mean we are not doing enough.”

“I suppose you have another update for us from Daiiroda?” Lahaldi asked with cautious optimism.

“I have certain news that it would be best we discussed in private,” Leiron replied with a small, sharp smile. “Perhaps your majesties would be so kind as to consider making an invitation.”

“Of course we would,” Reya replied mirroring his smile, “We would be most pleased to extended you an invitation to take visit with us.”

“I would be obliged,” Leiron swept into an elaborate bow. “If an hour’s time from now is convenient, then I will be able to prepare myself more adequately.”

Lahaldi and Reya nodded agreement and watched as Leiron did a quick bow and slip backwards amongst the myriad of corridors. Then together they ascended the sweeping staircase, leading up to the vaulted platform that connected the Chamber to the Castle.

Shift. Chapter 11

(Once again, cut short because of internet issues- I suppose its really Chapter 10, part two.)

One of the more interesting political structures in our modern world is that of the Kingdom of Callania. Whilst they maintain the overall hierarchical structure of many other Western nations, their royalty is selected by election, rather than by birth. The children of incumbent Kings or Queens are often put forward for election, but they are not always the favourite choice. The longest the throne has stayed with one direct family is three generations, culminating in the current leaders, King Tanon and Queen Elerina. Should one of their children win the next election, their family would be the most successful in history.

Excerpt from “Politics of Our time”

***

There was the faintest movement, a slight sway of the curtains and a flicker of the firelight. Penry looked up from his desk, his expression frozen, hesitant.

“Here already?” he queried into the darkness.

“I am,” she replied materialising suddenly just on the edge of his peripheral vision. He turned to face her, a smile creeping across his features.

“I call. You come. I could get used to this,” he said, in a slightly mocking tone. The figure blurred out of sight. Penry frantically glanced all round himself, his eyes finally alighting on her face, two inches from his left shoulder.

“Don’t,” was all she said, venom dripping from her tone.

“What a clever little pixie you are!” he exclaimed, trying to hide his consternation.

“Nice. But I am not a pixie.” She moved away from him, crossing to stand near the firelight.

“Can’t blame me for trying,” he replied with more composure. “So you’re not a pixie, an elf, a fairy or a hob. I’m getting quite a list here.” He pulled a sheet of paper towards himself and made a note.

“No. Those creatures are fictional.” She pushed the hood from her face, revealing a swathe of thick red hair, twisted up and tied in loops about her head. Her features had a slightly blurred appearance, although her eyes were clear and bright, brilliant white disks.

“No? Even hobs?” He replied, in mock seriousness.

“Especially hobs. So what do you want?” she asked, pacing in front of the fire, her image blurring and contorting slightly in unison with the waves of heat.

“Not so fast. Small talk first,” he replied evenly, folding his hands across his lap. “So, where have you been recently?”

“Working,” she replied tersely. “As I’m sure you know already. If you insist on asking me anything, ask me something you don’t know.”

“Working? I hope they paid you well,” he replied somewhat loftily.

“Of course.” She stopped her pacing, examining the objects lining the fireplace.

“I sometimes wonder, what does an evil, soulless creature like yourself actually spend money on?” Penry leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk playing about his lips.

“I often wonder the same of you,” she replied bluntly, picking up a strange little statue adorning the edge of the fireplace.

“Kings have numerous expenses,” Penry replied smoothly, totally unfazed by her reply. “I find that my Kingdom drinks gold like water. But you. You I just do not understand.”

“And that is why you will never have my powers,” she replied, glancing up from her examination of the ornament. “Why do you have this?” she continued, brandishing the ugly little thing, “Some sort of imp is it?”

“I was given that by an emissary from Wahalanang. It has some sort of importance there.” Penry shrugged. “Their ways are strange. I take it then, that I can cross “imp“ off my list as well then?”

“Wahalanang?” she replied, ignoring his latter comment, but with a slight inflection of curiosity entering her tone. “There are interesting stories about that part of the world.” She put the idol back in its place and turned to face him. “So? What did you want?”

“On to business already? How boringly efficient of you,” Penry replied with mock-hurt.

“I suppose you have more pointless and personal questions to put to me,” she answered in a dull and slightly scathing tone.

“Well, now that you mention it…” he began and then broke off with a laugh. “Ok, ok. I promise to waste no more of your precious time. To business then.” He held out an envelope, sealed in black wax. She reached across to take it and as she did so, he brushed his fingers lightly across hers. She hissed and snatched her hand back.

“Never touch me,” she spat at him, her eyes flaming white with anger. “You know that.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he laughed back, putting his hand over his heart.

“Idiot,” she hissed, breaking the seal on the letter.

Penry leant forward, slamming one hand on the table in front of him. “Do not try my generosity,” he growled threateningly.

There was a sudden, complete stillness. She fixed her eyes on him, her features otherwise blurred in darkness.

“Then do not try mine,” she replied, her voice seeming to come from far away, as if down a long, echoing tunnel.

Penry shrugged and leant back in his chair. “So can you manage the job?” he asked, somewhat sulkily.

“Of course,” she replied, folding the letter up. “But next time you want to speak to me, do not send your servant. You know how to contact me.”

Penry shifted slightly uncomfortably in his seat. “Why? Embarrassed that my simple General can track the famous Assassin?”

There was a silence.

“I will not tolerate his presence again. I spared him in recognition of our long-standing contract. My patience is wearing very thin.”

“You are not as strong as you think,” Penry replied, turning away from her momentarily. When he looked back, she was gone.

***

SILVETERA CLAIMS CALLANIA

In a shock move, the Kingdom of Silvetera, lately swollen by the gain of the Kingdom of Arrozale, has moved against Callania, claiming this Kingdom as its own. What should our country do about such tyranny? That is the question being hotly debated in today’s Council Chamber…

Excerpt from “AETYORTHIRI TIMES”

***

With a flutter of wings, the two sisters settled on the ground, hidden deep amongst a cluster of close-growing trees. Srynia shifted back to human form first, collapsing to the floor. Riarna shifted shortly after, reaching down to assist her sister.

“Are you alright?” she asked anxiously.

“It’s the shift,” Srynia replied weakly, “It’s just taken it out of me a bit.”

Riarna shook her head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve let us stop sooner. I just wanted to put enough distance between us and those creatures.”

“I know, it’s not your fault,” Srynia immediately began to comfort her. “I wanted to keep going.”

“What’s wrong with your neck?” Riarna asked suddenly, looking at the deep gauges the Werserk had left.

“Nothing. Just that one that got me earlier,” Srynia looked sad, suddenly remembering what she had been trying to forget.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You need to heal that before we go any further!” Riarna stood over her sister, her posture slightly threatening.

“I don’t think I have the strength,” Srynia replied weakly.

“Let me,” Riarna said in a gentler tone. Crouching down again, she put her hands over the wounds and closed her eyes. Slowly, the flesh began to knit and colour, smoothing back to the texture of pure skin.

“Thank you,” Srynia said, flexing the muscles on her back and rubbing her shoulder. She touched the necklace that was still hanging around her neck.

“Look, I’ve got blood on it.” She began to rub at the flakes of dried blood encrusting the gold.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll clean it up next time we stop for water.”

“It was our mothers,” Srynia continued dully, looking into her sister’s eyes. “What are we going to do without them?”

“We will go on,” Riarna replied firmly, swallowing the lump beginning to form in her throat. “We don’t have time to grieve now. We have to keep going. To do whatever we can to push back these scum, these invaders.” She clenched her fists, a furious expression crossing her face.

“We’d do better to leave. To take refuge in another country,” Srynia replied fatalistically.

“No. We must do what we can. You know that’s the right thing to do.”

Srynia bowed her head in silent acknowledgement of that fact.

“Fine. But where should we start?”

“The palace. That would be a primary target of the Silveterans, but we’re likely to be able to make contact with someone who can set us on the right course.”

“You hope,” Srynia replied tartly.

“I know,” Riarna asserted firmly. “I don’t know how I know. I can just feel it deep down inside me.”

“If you say so,” Srynia sighed. “How are we going to set about getting there?”

Riarna looked off into the distance, a slight frown creasing her features. “Horse-form. I’ll change occasionally to check our bearings, take bird-form to scout around. But we’ll mainly use horse-form.”

“That’ll be easy for me, but won’t it make us quite loud and slow?” Srynia asked, doubt tingeing her tone.

“No. It’ll be fine. You’ll need to save your strength in case we encounter any resistance.”

Riarna shifted into horse-form, bringing any further discussion to a close. Srynia shook her head and then joined her sister in horse-form. The two turned and setting out at the trot, soon disappeared amongst the overgrown forest.

***

C. H(aroni): By the time we decide to help them, it will be too late!
Disturbance. Quiet called.
C. K(aissen): But the question at stake is whether we should help them or not. A decision we should not make in haste!
C. H. And if we don’t help them, what next? You think that Kingdom’s greed will stop at our borders?
Disturbance. Quiet called.
C. K.: More reason to keep our forces here, where they can protect our land!
General uproar.

Minutes of the Meeting of the National Council, Aetyorthiri.

***

“They can’t keep us here! What right have they?” Prince Rhydyn repeated again to general mutters from his family.

“You can keep saying that, but it isn’t going to change anything,” King Tanon replied wryly, shaking his head at his son’s impatience.

“We haven’t done anything to them,” Rhydyn continued, reluctant to give up on his theme. “We’ve always been a very peaceful country.”

“But they haven’t,” Queen Elerina interjected with a sigh. “We share a world with warmongering nations. We were just not sufficiently prepared for this. To be honest I never expected Aleyn to allow it to go this far.”

“Aleyn is firmly under Penry’s thum,” Tanon replied with a snort of derision. “She is half the woman she used to be.”

“It is a shame.” Elerina shook her head and sighed again.

“A shame?” Rhydyn repeated, slightly incredulously. “I can’t believe how calmly you’re taking this!”

“Well, how else can we take it? It does no good to get worked up,” his mother replied gently. “We’re lucky to only be under house-arrest.”

“Long may it last,” Tanon added grimly. “I don’t trust Penry. I don’t think he’ll keep us alive unless he has some need of us.”

“If I could just get out of here,” Rhydyn said with a slightly exasperated sigh. “You know I can’t stand being stuck indoors.”

“I know, I know,” Elerina replied.

Rhydyn crossed to the window and stared out glumly over the fields surrounding the palace. He took a sudden step forward, leaning against the window frame, staring out into the distance.

“Who’s that?” he asked to the room in general. “Do they want to get themselves killed?”

“What is it?” Tanon asked curiously, getting to his feet and crossing to the window.

“Two horse-shifters. In the forest. They mustn’t realise that the Werserks are patrolling this area. But why come here in the first place?”

“I can’t see them, where are they?” Tanon asked, squinting at the trees.

“There. In amongst the trees. Two bays.”

“I can’t see them.”

“They’re there. Look!” Rhydyn pointed, his tone increasingly frustrated.

“They’re very well disguised. I can’t see them.”

Elerina alighted from her chair and swept across to the window.

“Can you see them mother?” Rhydyn asked, hope tingeing his voice.

“I think so,” Elerina replied cautiously. “They are standing very still.”

“But what are they doing here? Everyone else has fled,” Rhydyn continued, allowing himself to become just slightly excited.

“I don’t know,” Tanon replied gloomily, “But they’re going to get themselves killed.”

“I’m going to keep my eye on them,” Rhydyn stated firmly. “At least it’ll give me something to do whilst I’m stuck here.”

Shift, Chapter 10

(This chapter is shorter than I was planning because I want to post this before I lose the internet. It's also a bit rusty because it's taking me a while to get back into writing this. Excuses over.)
***

TOP SECRET

Message for His Majesty, King Penry of Silvetera.

We have successfully crossed the border and troops are in position to move on Gaveny. There is some localised resistance, but nothing in significant strength to halt our progress.

Admiral Tern

Kylan, Ruth. The Red Run: secret messages unlocked.

***

The man closed up his shop and started the long walk home. His back was bowed against the world, his mind bent around his many troubles. It was a very still night, in a run-down district of the city. However, even then, he felt that there was something wrong. There was a terrible feeling of absence and something else, some indescribable and overwhelming sense of threat. With a terrible chill, he realised what this must mean. He began to run, his heart hammering in his chest, his mind racing faster than his legs.

With a sickening crack, he fell hard against the ground and rolled onto his back. His breath gasping in his throat, he searched frantically around himself, as the silence gradually grew and swelled. With one final sigh, he fell still, his eyes rolling up in their sockets. A single red tear welled up and fell, streaking a crimson line against his cheek. There was a moments silence and then a figure stepped forwards from the darkness, hovering over the man’s slumped form.

“I thought I might find you here,“ A man’s voice rumbled deeply from a nearby archway. “Your presence is required.”

The figure turned, fixing him with pure-white, disc-like eyes. It took a long-drawn, hissing breath, flexing the individual fingers on each hand.

“It will be worth your while,” he added, a slightly coaxing tone entering his voice. He took a half step back and swept his arm backwards in an inviting gesture.

“Very well,” it replied, the voice soft and feminine, but clear. She stepped away from the slumped form on the floor and slid into the protection of the shadows.

“What did this one do?” Klint asked, seized by a rare moment of curiosity.

“He made some very wealthy enemies,” she replied, the sound of her voice receding rapidly.

Klint half-smiled and allowed a brief growl of what would approximate laughter. He quickly shifted into the darkness and moved away into the still and silent night.

***

TOP SECRET

URGENT

Message for their Majesties, King Lahaldi and Queen Reya.

Greetings, honourable allies and leaders of our neighbouring nation, the highly esteemed Aetyorthiri.

Urgent news compels us to speak briefly. We are under attack by King Penry and Queen Aleyn of Silvetera, lately the acquisitors of the Kingdom of Arrozale. We have been friends and allies for many centuries and we now beg you to assist us in this war.

Send us your reply as soon as you can, we do not know how long we can hold them back by ourselves.

King Tanon and Queen Elerina, Elect of Callania.

***

“Do you hear that?” Srynia panted to her sister, pacing at the long loping stride of the wolf.

“Werserks,” Riarna growled back, her hackles slightly raising.

In unison, the sisters picked up the pace, lengthening out their strides, tracking the sounds ahead of them.

“Look there! Straight ahead!” Srynia barked.

In front of them, a pack of Werserks was circling around a figure lying on the floor. As the sisters closed in on them, the sound of the snarls and howls grew to near-deafening proportions. They were nearly on top of them when the first of the pack noticed, but too late to raise the alarm.

“Get dad, I’ll hold them,” Riarna half-snarled, half-roared as she launched into a pounce, shifting from wolf to lioness as she flew. Srynia branched off from her sister, making the figure on the floor her target.

“Dad! Can you hear me?” She asked, crouching low to his face. His eyes fluttered open, but his breath was low and raspy.

“Can you shift to something I can carry? Dad? Can you understand?” she continued, her voice more urgent.

Willan shook his head very slightly.

“No,” he replied, his voice very faint and whispery. “Too weak. Go, daughter. Go now while you still can.”

With a sudden punch, a Werserk landed on Srynia’s back, snarling and biting at her neck. She shook furiously to dislodge him, managing to make him slide onto the ground, teeth still wrapped around her throat. Struggling and shaking, she snapped and bit at whatever part of him that she could reach. With a sudden sense of release, she felt the Werserk lift from her back. She turned to see her father, still in human form, lifting the wolf, his hands buried in its thick, scruffy neck. Srynia scrambled to her feet, blood running in rivulets from the wounds in her neck.

With a sickening snap, the Werserk twisted and closed its teeth around Willan’s bare throat. The man collapsed backwards, his body crumpling as he fell.

“No!” Srynia howled, launching at the Werserk. He turned, a sneering contempt stretching across his wolf-features. Leaping agilely to the side, he put in a parting snap before bounding off to rejoin the fight, still raging furiously between Riarna and the rest of the pack.

Srynia rushed to her father’s side, shifting to human form, putting her hand over the strange contortion in his neck. She carefully shut his blankly staring eyes, tears falling silently and steadily from her face to his. Wiping her face hastily, she turned away, shifting back to wolf form.

“Riarna!” she called, seeing her sister was still holding off the pack. Twisting and biting, shifting and sliding between them, keeping up that incredible strength of energy she always seemed to possess. Riarna met her sister’s eyes across the distance, making a slight nod of acknowledgement that she could hear.

“He’s dead!” she wailed, turning to glance once again on Willan’s body. Riarna hesitated momentarily, before shifting out of the path of snapping teeth, letting them close on the air with a resounding clack. With a leap and a roll she cleared the group of Werserks, launching into the air and shifting into a hawk. Flying straight up, out of their reach, she kee-eed, calling her sister to join her. Focusing all her strength, Srynia mustered up one of the few bird-from shifts she could do, taking to the air as a sparrow.

“Hold the shift!” Riarna kee-eed to her sister, knowing very well how much difficulty she had with this one.

“Will do!” Srynia sang back, “Better not to talk. Keep the focus.”

“We’ll head north, far out of their range. Then we can change form to something easier. I’ll stay as a hawk, protect you and keep an eye on where we’re going.”

Srynia replied with a single chirrup of acknowledgement.

The two flew high and far away from the Werserks beneath them, still prowling and circling. They set a course straight north, the misty shapes of the distant mountain range before them.

Shift, Chapter 9

“TRIUMPH!

For the glory of our great nation, our most wise and magnificent King has forged anew the alliance with our sister nation Arrozale. United once again with our Kingdom, this will bring wealth, power and the true glorification of all Peoples! We enter this fellowship afresh, lead by the banners of our King, stepping bravely forth into an Age of our own making!”

Ketch, Lai. “Triumph,” Silveteran National Press. 1

***

The wind howled through the city, lashing at the walls of the castle and setting the candles flickering wildly in their holders. A crowd had gathered in the round room, delicately avoiding looking directly at the tableau set out on the massive central stone table. With a resounding clang the metal door sealed firmly behind them, causing the group to fall silent.

“Good evening. Please take your seats.”

Penry strode through the middle of the gathered people, stopping at the largest chair, set directly opposite the entranceway.

“Sit. It wasn’t a request,” he repeated, in a more acerbic tone. The people hurriedly scrambled to their places, whilst their King stared morosely at the scene depicted on the table.

“The way I see it, we have three choices,” he began, tapping one finger on the map set before him. “Callania, Daiiroda or Gentrare.”

There was a soft generalised murmuring from around the room.

“Ideas.”

The King sat down, steepling his fingers, but not taking his eyes from the moulded map spread across the table.

“Callania is the easiest approach. It is weak to the South,” Klint growled from the King’s right, running a finger across that gently undulating section of the map.

“But Daiiroda is less technologically advanced,” a woman interjected from across the table. “They’re also our grain basket. Silvetera wouldn’t survive two winters together without it.”

“True enough Lady Helma,” Penry replied evenly, “But that was before we acquired the plentiful options offered to us by Arrozale.”

“Fish!” Helma spat, wrinkling her nose, “I suppose sacrifices are part of the nature of what we are undertaking.”

“Sacrifice?” the King replied, with slight amusement colouring his tone. “There will be no need of that. We need not offer Daiiroda any reason to stop its profitable trade with us. Indeed, we may offer them some very good reasons why it would be wise to not upset us.” He smiled at this thought and the room briefly hummed with low-key appreciation.

“Gentrare ought not to be attempted,” a man interjected from the left of the King. “It has a mountainous approach to our north, plus some very tight defence systems.”

“Geirus, we wouldn’t need to take the southern entrance if we can open a more northern route,” Helma replied hurriedly, standing up and leaning across the table to tap the easternmost edge of Daiiroda.

“You suggest a dual assault of Daiiroda and Gentrare?” Geirus replied cynically, crossing his arms defensively.

“With control of both those nations, Callania and even Aetyorthiri would not dare defy us!” she replied, retaking her seat with a slightly triumphant air.

“Have you ever entered Daiiroda from the south?” a quiet voice interjected into the silence that had followed Helma’s statement.

“As you well know, Kunil, I have never seen the need to leave my own city,” she replied savagely, glaring at the small man. “This has always been my home and the home of my ancestors before me.”

“Bloodties aside, I believe you were going to make a point?” Penry cut across Helma, looking directly at the slightly flustered Kunil.

“Well yes, sire,” Kunil continued, swallowing nervously. “It’s all swamp to the south. There’s not even a trading route that way. Well, not a trading route as such. Although some traders…”

“So what you’re saying,” the King interrupted quickly, sensing this was the extent of the man’s point, “it’s not the geographically sensible choice. Which leaves us back with General Klint’s original suggestion; Callania.”

There was a pause as the room considered their response.

“Then it is settled,” the King said in a finalistic tone, tapping the border between Arrozale and Callania. A small smile flickered across his features.

“To war.”

***

23/2/4376

No sightings. Moon waning. Cloud cover.

24/2/4376

No sightings. Moon waning. Clear skies.

25/2/4376

No sightings. Moon waning. Cloud and rain.

26/2/4376

Movement sighted south east. Unexplained. Messenger dispatched. Top alert. Moon New. Cloud.

Volan Fort Watch Tower Log for 4376, no. 53-56.

***

“They’re coming for us!” Urlof bellowed above the uproar in the town square as the crowd screamed their questions at him. “Don’t ask me how or why! You can stay and fight. Or you can run and make sure you run fast! They’re coming! And they’re coming much faster than most of you can run!”

The crowd heaved as one chaotic mass and then began to spread as various shapes began breaking away and running in human and shifted forms.

“Run then!” Urlof called above the pandemonium, “But I fight!” A roar greeted this statement as a fierce-looking section of the masses congregated around the man, bellowing their support.

“What do we do?” Srynia shouted to Riarna, struggling to stay together amid the moving chaos.

“Find our parents!” Riarna called back. “I don’t know what else we can do,” she added with slight despair.

Grabbing hold of her sister’s arm, Riarna pushed and squeezed her way through the throng, desperately searching for those familiar faces.

“Maybe they’ve gone back to the farm,” Srynia shouted, pulling her sister to a stop. “We said we’d meet back there after the meeting. We’ll never find them in all this!”

“We’ll check. If they aren’t at home, we’ll come back here again,” Riarna replied, looking around them anxiously.

Still holding on to each other, the sisters broke free from the crush of people, dashing down the street and leaping the fence into the commons.

“Shift,” Srynia stated, whilst the two paused momentarily to draw breath. Riarna nodded and quickly merged form into a cheetah.

“Not fair!” Srynia laughed, to her own surprise. “Something I can keep up with please!” she added more seriously.

With a slight shake Riarna shifted larger until she took on the form of a horse. Srynia quickly joined her in shifting and the two set off at a fast canter.

“Sorry!” Riarna snorted to her sister in horse, “Got carried away.”

“We’re not all multi-totemed shifters,” Srynia nickered back in remonstrance.
Riarna shook her mane and broke into gallop, racing her sister across the closely-cropped commons.

***

For the Attention of Her Royal Highness, Queen Aleyn of Silvetera.

Dear Aleyn,

I am sending this message with an urgent appeal for you to reconsider the hostile actions you are taking against my country and my people. I can not believe that you would sanction this violation of our borders without the manipulation of your husband. However, unless you intercede on our behalf you will forever hold equal blame in my eyes and in the eyes of the world. You alone have the political sanctions, however unwilling you may be to use them. You alone have the power to call an end to this violence.

If not for the sake our Kingdoms, then I must also appeal to our friendship, which I had believed would endure to the end. The years that have kept us apart, I did not believe would erase the bonds of kinship that we have held dear since children.

I will keep this message brief to speed its journey to you.

My love and sincerest hope, as always,

Elerina

Queen Elect of Callania.

***

With a clatter of hooves, Riarna and Srynia came to a halt in the courtyard and quickly shifted back into human form.

“What’s happened here?” Srynia asked in a dull tone, taking in the devastated scene before them.

“Lets just find our parents,” Riarna replied firmly, striding towards the house. She paused when she reached the kitchen door, partially ripped from its hinges and hanging at a tilt across the entrance. The broken glass of the windows crunched under her feet as she carefully propped the door open and stepped into the desolation within. Srynia suddenly pushed past her sister, clambering over the broken furniture to a far corner of the room.

“Mum?” she cried, pulling back some of the wreckage to reveal Deleha crumpled on the floor.

“Sry?” she croaked in reply, gasping and struggling with every breath.

“What is it? Where are you hurt?” Riarna asked, rushing over to join Srynia at her mother’s side.
“Chest,” Deleha gargled, clutching at her front. “Crushed. Too much… damage. Can‘t… shift.”

“No! We’ll get you a medic. You’ll be fine!” Srynia replied urgently, clasping Deleha’s shoulder.

“Where’s Dad?” Riarna asked suddenly, looking about the room.

“Not here,” Deleha replied painfully. “He went after… them.” She coughed and then moaned quietly, deep in her throat.

“Where did they go?” Riarna asked, looking out across the fields, their usual herds panicked and scattered. “Mum?”

“Mum?” Srynia repeated, shaking her very lightly.

Deleha lay rigid, her mouth wide, drawing in deeper and deeper breaths, unable to exhale out again. With a sickening pop sound, her body flinched suddenly and then went still, her eyes looking distant and unfocused.

“Mum?” Srynia repeated, more desperately, shaking her increasingly harder.

“We have to find Dad,” Riarna said calmly, with only the slightest tremor in her voice. “He might need our help.”

“But we have to help Mum! We have to get her to the medic! I think she’s stopped breathing…”

“There’s nothing more we can do. She’s already gone!” Riarna replied almost angrily, turning away from having to look at the scene.

“Gone? She can’t be gone! She’s not gone!” Srynia insisted stubbornly, clinging to her mother’s body.

“Dad’s out there! Alone! Fighting who knows how many of whatever they are. We have to find him!” Riarna replied, grabbing Srynia’s shoulder.

“But we can’t leave her!” Srynia wailed, her voice becoming thick as tears began cascading down her face.

“Come on! We have to go!” Riarna stated firmly, dragging at her arm.

“But…”

“Now!”

“Not without her necklace!” Srynia wrenched her arm away from her sister and leapt to her feet,
backing away as she did so. “I will not leave it to be taken by thieves!”

Riarna gazed steadily at her sister for a long moment and then nodded. Srynia ran out the room and returned some minutes later, clutching a gold necklace with an unusual pendant attached to it. Riarna was crouching by Deleha, whose eyes were now closed and her body laid neat and flat.

“Do you want to wear it?” Srynia asked her sister, holding the pendant out to her. “She always said it was an heirloom for the eldest daughter.”

“Living a few more minutes on this world hardly makes me the eldest,” Riarna replied with a wry smile. “You wear it.”

Srynia fastened the chain around her neck, the pendant dull against her skin, indicating its extreme age and wear.

“We’re going to have to track,” Riarna said with a glint of resolution in her eye. “Wolves I think.”

“I’ll try,” Srynia replied doubtfully, “I’ve never inherited as much of that from Dad as you have. I was always more…”

“If you get tired, shift totemic, I’ll keep up the tracking,” Riarna replied quickly, cutting off her sister’s line of thought, seeing her eyes drifting towards the body laid out to their side.

“I’ll do what I can.” Srynia walked quickly to the door, her voice heavy, her eyes streaming with tears again.

With a final glance at their mother, Riarna followed her sister from the room, shifting quickly upon reaching the outside. Her wolf senses were instantly overloaded with the strength of the smells assaulting her nose, but the trail was soon made easy and clear to her. With a snarl, she set off in the ground-covering lope of the wolf, her sister bounding to keep up to her side.

Shift, Chapter 8

It's been nearly a year since I last wrote some of this- it'll probably have some inconsistencies. Enjoy!

-------------------------

SILVETERA MOURNS ROYAL TRAGEDY.

The Kingdom of Silvetera has initiated a state of mourning today in the wake of the tragic death of Princess Elile, 20. As yet there has been no official statement as to the cause of death, although security around the Palace has been tightened, leading to fears that an outside party might have been involved…
… in an unusual move, all trade has been suspended and movement in or out of the country forcibly forbidden until further notice…

***

“I don’t like it,” Riarna muttered, her voice barely audible over the low-key hum of the busy tavern. Her eyes flickered anxiously around the room before returning to contemplate the crackling fire.
“It’s not right. Things aren’t right. They haven’t felt right for weeks,” her sister replied, swirling the dregs of her drink in agitated little circles.
The buzz in the room dropped suddenly quieter and the two girls looked up, following the focus of the room to the doorway. An enormous figure stood framing the opening, his dark bulk outlined by curls of insinuating mist, creeping in from the frosty night outside. With a slight shiver, the bear-like creature completed his shift and stepped forward into the room, his heavy footsteps reverberating slightly in the increasingly silent tavern.
“It is good to see so many of you here on such a bleak night,” the man began in his deep, carrying growl. “I have learnt little more than what we knew at our last meeting.” He broke off and began to pace the room, rubbing his bearded face pensively.
“It doesn’t look good,” Srynia whispered, leaning close to her sister’s ear. Riarna nodded her assent, watching the perturbed reactions of those townspeople who’d been able to gather that night.
“Arrozale continues to insist that it harbours no hostile intentions towards its neighbours. The latest news is that King Falos and his Queen will be entering the city of Silvetera within the next couple of days. If I hear of any changes before then, I will post news of another meeting on the town’s message board.”
“And what of Silvetera? Will she trade?” an aggrieved voice called from a crowded but shadowy recess of the pub.
“No more news on that front, Perephus,” the man answered resignedly, but placing a rather pointed emphasis on the name.
“But my good Lord Urlof,” the same aggrieved voice replied, as Perephus himself stepped forwards from the crowd, “how can we sustain ourselves? Why bother with anything if our products will find no market?”
The background noise of the tavern rose slightly, with more raised voices throwing out opinions. Lord Urlof held up his arms in a gesture for quiet and the people quickly subsided.
“There are other markets, although less lucrative than Silvetera, that will sustain free-moving trade.” The noise level began rising again and Urlof quickly cut across it. “But give it time! A few more days and we will have news about the success of the diplomatic visit of King Falos to Silvetera and then we will know if any of this worrying was necessary in the first place!” He paused to draw breath, looking sternly around the room, waiting for the next challenge. None would dare to reply and even Perephus looked slightly cowed.
“Until the next meeting then!” Urlof raised his arm in farewell and strode across to the room, wrenching back the door and leaping through in bear-form once again. There was a moments stunned silence before the pub resumed the low-key hum that it had had before his arrival.

***

Captain’s Journal; entry 325.
12th Auldary 4376

Storm predicted 14th Auldary. Likelihood severe gales. Journey needs delay but passengers insist urgency. Plan test emergency drill procedure tomorrow. Hope this enough. I have doubts.

From: Famous Last Words: a Compendium.

***

“Abandon Ship!” the Captain called again and again, his voice hoarse from shouting, his body rent by the rips and burns his ship had put him through in the past few hours he’d tried to save her. He clung on to one of the few remaining pieces of upright timber on the creaking wreck of the hull. He could not see beyond the driving rain, but he knew that his crew should be fine; he only employed aquatic shifters for a reason. It was the passengers that worried him.
Suddenly, he caught sight of a figure stumbling across the remainder of the deck. “Who goes there?” he called to it, squinting in the gloom. A flash of lightning dazzled him briefly, but lit up the person well enough for him to realise who it was.
“Your Highness! We must abandon ship! She’ll not withstand much more of this storm,” the Captain called across, praying that the wind was not snatching away his words.
“I have never been a strong swimmer, Captain,” the Queen replied, her shout barely audible.
“You must shift!” he yelled back, just as a particularly violent wave ripped up through the leaking hull, causing the timbers to shriek with strain. The Queen stumbled and the water pushed her from her feet, slamming her against the raised border between the ship and the churning ocean.
“Shift!” the Captain called again, but her body remained propped limply against the boards. He mustered up what remained of his strength and threw himself across the deck, scrambling over to her side.
“Your Highness!” he shook her shoulder, but got no response. “Vinthia!” he tried her informal name in a desperate bid to wake her.
“Can’t…” she muttered, her voice sounding painfully cracked.
“You must! There is no other way now. The ship is lost,” he swallowed that painful thought and tried again to shake her.
“No!” she replied, looking up at him with savagery in her eyes. “We have been betrayed! I can’t shift. We have been poisoned!” With a desperate gargling, the Queen’s face contorted violently, as if in a silent scream. A dark shadow moved across her prone body, just in time for the Captain to turn and witness the curve of the enormous wave engulf the ship. Instinctively the Captain shifted into a sea lion, gliding effortlessly through the crashing water.
He knew he must find shore, he must tell someone, if only he knew who he could tell. His ship sunk; his Queen gone; no sign of the King. He was lost in his thoughts, so lost that he did not notice his sea lion instincts niggling at the corner of his mind.
With a crude thump he collided with a solid mass in the water and paused to regard it with slightly dazed senses.
“Dayvi?” he chirped in sea-lion.
“Cap’n,” the creature replied in whale, rolling over slightly in the water, revealing where massive chunks of flesh had been torn from it.
“What’s happened?” the Captain barked, the nauseating taste of blood in the water grating on his senses.
“One of Them is here,” Dayvi gurgled in response, his voice low and weak. “In the water. I saw it take the others, but I could not swim fast enough. It left me for last…” he broke off, his pitiful groaning echoing through the ocean.
“Them? Here?” he barked back, his mind in turmoil, quickly scanning the water around him.
“Too late… too late,” Dayvi moaned and choked, struggling in the turbulent storm waters. “Go now and there might still be a chance for you.”
The Captain paused, torn by indecision, a cold tingling creeping up his spine. Turning too late, the flash of jaws screaming across his vision, before nothingness and the dark crushing oblivion of the waves enveloping him. Its face fixed in a permanent grimace, the shark turned back to the whale, fixing his blank black discs of eyes on his victim.
LAST ONE

***

“… but out of the darkness of this tragedy might come the light of change…”

Excerpt from “King Penry’s Seminal Speeches.”

***

“I don’t want it and I never have done,” Dyl spat at his uncle, pacing the room in agitation.
“Well, you do realise, spoilt princeling or not, that you are the only direct heir to the throne?” Penry replied with amused condescension. “What would you have me do? Run your Kingdom for you?” He smiled darkly at this, looking away from his nephew briefly.
“I’d rather that!” Dyl replied vehemently, swiping irritably at the air around him.
“Do be serious, boy,” Penry replied, taking a firmer tone, “Your Kingdom is not just a pretty palace with lots of treasures and fine clothes for you to wear. It is a powerful nation, not to be idly toyed with. Its military strength alone is only matched by one other Kingdom in this world!”
Dyl looked shrewdly across at his uncle.
“A strength I‘m sure you‘d put to much better use than I would,” he replied pointedly.
“It is true that with the combined strength of our two Kingdoms, there would be no power in this world that could equal us!” Penry stood up, grasping his nephew’s shoulder and fixing his eye in his.
Dyl edged out from under his uncle’s hand.
“Silvetera would never bow under Arrozalan rule again,” he replied in agitation.
“No and why should it?” Penry replied fervently, “It has long been the most powerful Kingdom; its influences reach to every corner of this world! Our wealth could buy the Arrozalan army twice over and why shouldn’t it?”
Dyl backed away, getting increasingly alarmed.
“But how? How could you even begin…”
“Do not worry about the hows! All I need from you is one thing,” Penry replied, striding across the room and pulling a scroll of parchment from his desk.
“What’s this?” Dyl asked, whilst desperately trying to scan the densely packed legal jargon.
“It is a peace treaty between our Kingdoms. All I need is for you to sign,” Penry held up a pen and Dyl took it without thinking.
“But we’re not at war! We haven’t been at war for decades!” Dyl looked from the pen in his hand to his uncle’s contorted face.
“A minor war at best, of no real concern. That is, as long as you’re willing to sign the peace treaty,” Penry’s voice dropped and his eyes narrowed, fixing his nephew in a long, calculating look.
Dyl looked again at the parchment and at the pen and at his uncle.
“I’ll need some ink.”

Shift, Chapter 7

FeSTiVaL!

COmE ONe! coMe aLL!

CeLebRaTe PRiNcE DYLANON’s 18Th BiRthDAy

SEE the AMAZING SIGHTS!

SpEcTaCLeS from ALL OVeR the WORLD!

24th - 26th IOJENRY. PALACE SQUARE.

***

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to get to watch the Maoniong Circus at last!” Elile burst out with a laugh.

“You're so excited anyone would have thought it was your birthday.” Dyl smiled back wryly, shaking his head.

“Well at least you got to see them last time. I was still in Arrozale if you remember?” she replied tartly, with a slight pout.

She turned to look at Dyl when he didn’t reply and noticed that he was pulling at his shirt sleeve, a habit she’d noticed he did when he was nervous.

“Everything alright?” she asked, slightly concerned. He flinched a little bit at the question and mumbled.

“Sorry what was that?” she asked again.

“Well, nothing, it’s just… I wish I didn’t have to leave!” he finished in a rush.

Elile nodded in sympathy, putting down the drink she was holding. She had been expecting this, but she had been waiting for him to say something first.

“But won’t it be nice to be back amongst your family? To see Dirdarn again?” she asked gently, lightly touching him on the shoulder.

“As far as I’m concerned I have no family in Dirdarn,” he spat vehemently, jumping to his feet.

Elile was a little taken aback. She had known that Dyl was not happy with his parents, but she had never seen him this angry before.

“I hate them! I wish I never had to return. I just want to stay here!” he shouted, smashing his glass against the wall.

Elile shrank away from him slightly, made nervous by the violence of his temper. Dyl threw himself down into a chair, his brows knitted in a dark and brooding expression. Elile shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying desperately to think of a way to break the atmosphere.

Eventually, Dyl sighed and ran one hand through his hair.

“Sorry about that,” he said, turning guiltily towards her, “I’ve been trying to get that off my chest for a long time. I didn’t mean to be so aggressive.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied with a gentle smile. “We all need to vent our emotions at some point.”

Dyl propelled himself to his feet and started to pace in an agitated fashion, his body tense, muscles sliding powerfully together with lithe, effortless grace. Elile watched him silently, noticing he was beginning to loose physical definition, as his body began to lapse into his Primary Shift. Suddenly, he snapped back into focus and turned to stride over to her chair, gripping the arms of it in his hands and leaning down over her. She glanced up at his face and at his eyes, which were blazing with emotion, seeming greener than usual from his recent Shift.

“There’s another reason,” he began, his voice rippling with a slight growl. “I think you know what I’m going to say, but I have to say it anyway.” He paused, not breaking his fixed stare, from which she dared not flinch.

“I know,” she replied softly, her voice purring in reply. She had been so focused on him that she had not noticed her own form, glancing down at her hands that were slightly curled and tapering into sharpened claw tips. With a slight laugh she refocused and Shifted back into her full human form. Looking back up at him she smiled and drew her face closer to his, until her lips brushed delicately against the edge of his.

“And can I just say,” she murmured lightly. “Me too.”

***

“Will you have your fortune read, my dear?” the harsh voice cackled in her ear. Elile turned to see a short, brightly-spangled woman, clutching at her elbow.

“I’m sorry but I’m in a bit of a hurry,” Elile replied, edging away.

The woman froze, her yellowing eyes wide and staring and she began to chant, her mouth wide and distorted,

“Beware, my dear, I see a cloud rise dark,
And thick around your eyes. You see the mark!
It passes close, so close, but none shall hear,
But She, the one whom all that lives must fear"

“Sorry, but I really have to be going,” Elile insisted, pulling her elbow out of the woman’s grasp.

“Take this, my dear. Take it!” she screamed, her hair flying out wildly, her clawed hand offering a card. Elile reluctantly took the slick, shiney thing and started to walk away.

“Beware! And mark that card!” the woman screamed after her, as Elile disappeared amongst the crowd.

***

Fortune Teller’s Tags: Truth or Fiction? Item 3.14.1

***

“Enter.”

Elile slid through the heavy wooden door into her father’s study and padded softly across the carpet.

“Ah! My dear Elile, what can I do for you?” Penry exclaimed exuberantly, carefully placing his pen beside a piece of parchment, still glistening with ink.

“I have something I want to talk to you about. It perhaps would be better if Mother was here as well,” she replied, regarding her father slightly nervously.

“Ah! In that case I think I know what this is about.” Penry leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers and regarding her with a contemplative look. “It is about that young man of yours?”

“Yes, Father,” she replied, blushing and not quite meeting his eye.

“Well, what is there to say? I am certain that your mother and I would both agree that it would make a most fitting match.”

Elile’s eyes widened in surprise, not quite believing what she was hearing.

“So you don’t object?” she replied, her tone betraying her astonishment.

“No, of couse not, my child. I feel almost hurt that you would suspect otherwise of me.” He inclined his head and winked, making her feel even more uncomfortable than before.

“What about my Aunt and Uncle? Do you think they will feel the same?” she asked hastily, to fill the awkward silence.

“Ah! Here I feel we hit upon a little snag. I find it highly unlikely, need I say extremely improbable, that they would allow any such union. But don’t you worry about those details! I’ll send word to Vinthia myself. I’m sure it will all work out for the best.” He smiled at his daughter, who was still giving him a slightly disbelieving look.

“Thank you!” she eventually stammered. “I’ll tell Dyl what you said. Maybe if he spoke to his parents…”

“No,” he interrupted her curtly, with a sharp gesture. “It is in my hands now. You must promise you’ll leave it to me.”

Slightly taken aback by this change in tone, Elile just nodded mutely, scared of provoking another change in her father.

“Good. Then we are agreed,” he said pleasantly and picked his pen back up. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No. No, that’s all,” she replied hastily and with a quick curtsy, turned and slid quickly from the room.

The smile fading from his face, Penry clicked his fingers. Klint materialised from the shadows.

"Have this delivered to my sister,” he said, folding up the now-dry parchment and handing it across to the man.

With a bow, the man silently slid back into the shadows and was gone.

***

Dearest Vinthia,

I require your presence here in Silvetera as a matter of utmost urgency. I expect to see you before dawn.

Penry.

***

“I have other children- and who am I to stand in the way of such a touching example of young love?”

Vinthia raised her eyebrows in astonishment and for a moment was totally nonplussed. Of all the reactions she might have predicted from her brother, this one was the least probable.

“But you do realise that whoever marries our son will have to be the Queen of Arrozale? We have no other children and Dylanon is our only heir.”

“Yes, I do. I most clearly realise that, sister. But think- I have half a dozen children, including some very reliable ones, who will make most excellent Kings or Queens.” Penry was sitting back in his chair, with an air of relaxed ease.

Vinthia shifted uncomfortably, giving her brother a very narrow look. She didn’t know what he was thinking and this worried her more than anything else.

“But consider, brother,” she began after a pause, “They are close cousins- it is highly unusual for such marriages to occur in these days. What will the public think of it?”

“Oh, I don’t think we need to worry about the public, do you?” Penry replied in an indifferent tone, waving his hand dismissively. “They love this kind of romantic thing. They also look very aesthetically pleasing together, don’t you think?”

“But what about their children? If their totems are too close, doesn’t it risk a chance of, well, you know…” Vinthia trailed off, not wanting to finish the statement.

“I assume, dear Vinthia, that you are alluding to Werserkism?” Penry queried softly, his face an impassive mask.

“Well it is a risk,” she replied hastily, her voice sounding a little bit hysterical, even to her own ears. “You know there’s evidence that marriages between close totems risks genetic difficulties in Shifting capabilities.”

“Well, well. I’d never thought you’d be one of the Anti-Serkist movement,” he whispered, with a small tight smile. “Klint. Would you be so good as to step forward please.”

Out of the darkness of the back of the room, a shadow moved and solidified until a tall, muscular man stepped up to the King’s side.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied in rumbling voice, that resonated around the room.

“Have you met Klint, sister?” Penry asked lightly, gesturing to the man bristling by his side.

Vinthia froze where she was, eyeing the Guard warily. She had heard that Penry employed some in his army, but that didn’t make her feel any less uncomfortable.

“No? Well, let me introduce you,” Penry continued when it became clear Vinthia wasn’t going to reply. “Klint, this is my favourite sister, Queen Vinthia of Arrozale.” He paused, noticing her flinch at his choice of words. “Dear Vinthia, this is Klint, Leader of the Shadow Guard of Silvetera and as you so delicately put it, a, what was it? A ‘genetic difficulty’ I believe, although maybe a ‘risk’ is more appropriate.”

Vinthia sat completely still, not at all reassured by having her fears confirmed. Her eyes were fixed on those of the Shadow Guard, whose face was blank and masklike.

“It is a great honour to be introduced to you, Your Highness,” Klint boomed in his deep, husky voice, drawing one of his massive arms across his chest and bowing down before her. Vinthia barely managed to suppress her flinch backwards.

“It is a pleasure for me to meet any person worthy of an introduction from my brother,” Vinthia blurted out the standard reply.

“Excellent! Excellent!” Penry replied, sitting up and clasping his hands together in a show of delight. “Well, if you have any further objections you’d like to raise, now would be the time, sister. I am sure that Klint would be more than happy to oblige you with an answer to any questions you may have on the subject of, shall we say, his condition.”

“No, no. It’s alright,” Vinthia added abruptly, cautiously eyeing the Guard still. “It would be a great honour to both Kingdoms to reaffirm the close bond between our nations. I can see no genuine objection to the marriage.”

“I’m sure our children will be most delighted by the news. Your son, in particular, I know would be most disappointed to hear of your disapproval. I earnestly hope that he does not get to hear of it.”

Vinthia paused and looked directly at Penry, uncomfortably aware of the fact that she was probably not fully understanding the implication of this statement.

“No, maybe not. But perhaps it would be wise to make sure they are both certain that this is what they want? They are both still young and if this proved to be a passing fancy, then it could prove most disastrous. Remember when Falos became heir to the throne of Arrozale? All the trouble that that caused, especially…”

“If you really so wish, sister,“ said Penry, cutting her off. “I will speak to both of them. But I doubt this will change their minds. To me, they seemed to be the most determined young people I ever saw.”

***

The Merchant Rebellion of 4245: A Study of Sibling Bonds.

It has often been observed that the importance of Kinship bonds was of paramount importance during the Merchant Rebellion. However, what is very often left unsaid, is that this trend still shows true in Silveteran social culture to this day. One of the most striking examples of this comes from the original Monarchal Charter, the exact wording of which is still maintained to this day. It varies greatly from the original Charter that was upheld during the Arrozalan occupation and even now Silvetera operates under a notably different system to that of Arrozale. The most key difference to the topic of this essay is the favouring of the sibling bond relationship above that of the parent to the child. In this way, the siblings of the Monarchal Duo take precedence as an heir over that of their children. Indeed, when the Charter was originally written it was assumed that Silvetera would not be ruled by a Monarchal Duo united by marriage, but rather a sibling blood-bond pair. This has caused some difficulties in the interpretation of the inheritance laws, with a small adendum to the Charter that discounts the siblings of a King or Queen who has taken their throne through marriage, rather than blood relation...

From: The Merchant Rebellion: A Critical Reader.

***

“I’m sorry boy,” Penry said to Dyl, his voice modulating to accommodate a rare touch of sympathy.

“But why? I don’t understand why they are so opposed!”

“Well, you see, they seem to think it morally wrong,” Penry paused as he observed a slightly guilty expression cross Dyl’s face. “But I think they are more concerned for the future of their Kingdom. They have to think about these things you know.”

Dyl didn’t miss the patronising touch in the statement, but remained quiet.

“They are not entirely unreasonable. They offer you two choices: Remain their son, and the future King. Or Marry the girl and renounce your place.”

Dyl gave him a sideways look, unsure whether the irony was intentional.

“I take the second option,” Dyl replied quietly, pulling himself to his feet, so that his frame loomed over the King.

“Well I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but I can’t let you do that,” the King interjected smoothly. “You see, there is the fact of my own consent. And while I am more than happy for my daughter to marry a Prince, I’m afraid I would have to prevent any union between an untitled, unemployed drifter and a child of mine.”

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked, sitting back down heavily, his tone resigned.

“Not with things the way that they are I'm afraid. But I could help by breaking the news to my daughter, if you would you prefer?”

“No, I would rather tell her in my own way, if you don’t mind,” Dyl replied, slowly rising to his feet.

***

Dearest Lile,

By the time you will have read this, I will already have returned my parent’s verdict to you.

I will not dwell on this anymore than to say that I love you and to ask you to meet me tonight at midnight. Today is my last official day as a guest of your parents and at the turn of the clock I am officially free.

I will be by the exposed passageway in the North Quad Cellar, our last and most recent Secret Room.

All my love,

Dyl

***

“That passage must run parallel with the outer strut of the Palace Wall,” Elile called back to Dyl, who was lagging slightly behind, investigating a drainage grate.

“I think you’re right. But you’d never know it was there unless you were looking for it,” he replied, straightening up from where he’d stooped over the grill.

“Do you know where this alley is?” she asked, looking apprehensively up at the towering black walls.

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think we’re out in the main city yet. It looks like part of a disused barbican.”

“It does look like that,” she replied musingly, running her hand across the roughened stone. “I’m glad we’ve found such an exciting old piece of the Palace. It’s much more fitting for our final adventure than that time we found ourselves in part of the laundry shute.”

“Don’t say that,” he replied sharply, turning away from her.

“Say what?” she asked, genuinely surprised at his response.

“Say that it’s our last adventure. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again.” As he said this, he kicked a chip of loose stone, which cracked into several pieces as it hit the wall.

“I think it has to be, don’t you?” she replied in a sad, but resigned tone.

“No. No it doesn’t!” he snapped back. “Come away with me! We can go anywhere- leave all this behind us.”

Elile blinked and looked away, her head down. Glancing back again she saw the disappointment emanating from his expression, washing over her with guilt.

“I just can‘t…” she began, before trailing off into silence. Total silence.

“You don’t…” Dyl began, but she cut him off with a gesture. She quickly scoped the grounds, Shifting her ears to try and pick up a trace.

“Do you feel that?” she whispered softly to him, still looking around them. Dyl looked confused for a moment, his mind still focused on their conversation, until gradually he felt it begin to seep into his mind.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Elile continued, her voice even more hushed than before. “It’s so quiet. Too quiet.”

He didn’t like to admit it, but she was right. He knew they would have to return to the safety of the Palace, but he had so much he so desperately still wanted to say to her.

“Come on, quick, we’d better head back,” he said eventually, his tone resigned.

“You don’t think its her do you?” Elile replied, a tremble entering her voice.

“She is a fairy-tale told to scare children at festivals. But still…” Dyl glanced up the blackened walls that leaned imposingly over the alley, “I think it’s time to leave.”

“I think it’s already too late,” she replied softly.

Dyl turned sharply to look more closely at her, where she stood, fixed immovably as before. Something was making his senses tingle, something he desperately did not want to consciously admit. In the corner of his eye he caught sight of a pipe, from which water was oozing down its length and sliding onto the stone floor with a repetitive slapping noise. With each drop the sound hit his senses, driving his attention forcibly to only one conclusion.

He could hear it.

“Lile!” he called out as he leapt forward to catch her crumpling form.

“Dyl?” she whispered, her eyes meeting his. Her knees buckled and Dyl was forcibly dragged down by her weight as she collapsed fully.

“Lile, what is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice desperate.

“I…” she began, her voice barely audible. Still looking at him, she smiled, sinking backwards with a sigh as her eyelids fluttered closed.

“Lile?” he shook her gently, her body rolling loosely in his arms.

“Lile?” he cried, his voice breaking, pulling her closer to him, rocking her in his arms.

Collapsing suddenly backwards, he lay beside her tangled form, covered his eyes with his hands and screamed. Drawing his hands down over his scalp, he froze where he was, his eyes staring straight up, refusing to see, refusing to think.

And as he lay there, a small red jewel glistened, welling from one corner of Elile’s eye, and streaked down her cheek, tracing a red track against the whitening skin.

Shift, Chapter 6

25th Hepti 4375

Dear Dyl,

I am so excited I can barely write! Tonight is my last night in Arrozale and tomorrow I’ll be coming home! It has been so long- so long I can barely remember my old life in Silvetera. And to see you again! I doubt we’ll even recognise each other.

That’s not to say there aren’t many things that I will miss in Dirdarn. I have some good friends here and I don’t think I will ever know a place as well as I know this old Castle. Our Secret Rooms List is now more like the size of a novel! I sometimes worry about that someday someone will take advantage of our work. I’ve been tempted on many occasions to throw it into the fire, but something has held me back. Perhaps it’s because I don’t feel like it’s really my decision alone. It’s ours and that what we do with it should be a decision between the two of us.

Ah! But, to be back in the excitement of the big city! And to be back with my real family! I haven’t stopped dreaming of this day for eleven years. Eleven years! I’ve lived more than half my life here in Dirdarn- my memories of Silvetera- what if I’m wrong? What if its not what I’ve been dreaming of? Sometimes I’m so worried about what it will be like to be back. To actualise a dream that I’ve had for so long.

This is the last letter I will be writing to you- and in many ways I regret this more than anything else. Letters have been so much a part of my life.

But for once in this life, I won’t ask you to send a reply, but rather to wait and tell me to my face in ten days time!

All my love,

Lile.

Princess Elile: Epistles.

***

“You’ve got a letter, Dyl,” Flo said, handing the envelope across the table to him.

“Really?” he replied eagerly, jumping up to take it from her. “I thought she’d be too busy with the Leaving Ceremony to have time to write.” Flo rolled her eyes, smiling archly across at her cousin.

“Too busy to write? Maybe. After all, I’ve not had a letter. Too busy to write to you? Hardly.” Smiling at his obvious discomfort, Flo continued to flick through the envelopes on the table.

“Well, maybe there’s something in here for both of us,” Dyl added diplomatically, looking at the letter with a slightly guilty expression.

“I really don’t mind. Look, sorry for teasing you, it’s just been a tough week,” she sighed and dropped the pile of letters back onto the table. She was right. There wasn’t a letter for her.

“She’ll be here soon and we’ll all be able to catch up properly then,” Dyl added awkwardly, patting her shoulder. Shaking him off irritably, Flo cast him a withering glare.

“I already told you, I’m not bothered ok? Why can’t you listen?”

“Sorry, I’ll umm… well,” he trailed off, slightly nonplussed by his cousin’s unusually acerbic reply. “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

Dyl walked out of the Breakfast Lounge cautiously, not wanting to provoke her even more. Flo sat still, a stubbornly fixed expression on her face, until she was certain her cousin was out of hearing. Then folding forwards gently onto her outstretched arms, she began silently to cry.

***

28th Hepti 4375

Dear Arkan,

I do not know why you have stopped writing and I wish I did. I will risk myself no more than to say I hope that you are well and that this letter reaches your own hands.

All the best,

Flo.

The Letters of Princess Flora of Silvetera, Age 16.

***

“Princess Elile!” King Penry exclaimed loudly, his arms wide and inviting. “Welcome home!”

The crowds cheered and threw confetti on the Princess as she gracefully alighted from her carriage. Looking across the expanse of blue fabric that lead up the steps to the foot of her father, the woman broke into a broad smile. Resisting the temptation to call back, Elile curtsied elegantly, before sweeping along the path that had been laid for her. The crowd roared its appreciation with a renewed shower of flower petals sprinkling down upon her from all sides.

Marvelling at the colour and beauty of the spectacle, Dyl looked down on the scene from his place amongst the siblings, who were lined up behind the King and Queen. He had never seen so many people of the city in the Palace Square before, nor so many people decked out in such an array of colour and finery. The whole crowd rippled like a multi-coloured wave, the noise emitting from them like the breathing of an ocean in a storm. He squinted down at Elile, trying to draw a line of recognition between his young, blurry memories and the face of the woman approaching him. Eventually he sighed to himself and realised that it was just too long ago. He didn’t recognise her and he was certain she wouldn’t recognise him.

“Your Majesties,” Elile murmured gently to her parents, curtsying for the second time.

“Welcome home, daughter,” Queen Aleyn replied emotionally, her hand outstretched to Elile. Taking her mother’s hand, she smiled, tears threatening the corners of her eyes.

“Come and greet your siblings,” King Penry added, gesturing his daughter towards him.

Dyl watched Elile as she first approached her two sisters and gave them a restrained, but joyful hug. He couldn’t help but feel irritated. He knew Lile and Flo were close and that Tusani looked up to her eldest sister, but he felt overshadowed somehow. The outsider, in this scene of family reunion. He edged slightly away from the brothers and looked down at his scuffed shoes. He glanced up again as he saw her approaching Rhonen, leaving only one brother standing between them.

“Lian! I’m so glad to finally meet you!”

The voice cut through him like ice and he looked away, scuffling his feet even more. He felt the shadow of a presence passing close to him and he dragged his eyes around to face her. For a second they both stood, eyes locked on each other. Then in a flash of movement she engulfed him in a tight embrace, squeezing the breath out of him. He snaked his arms around her back in a return of her hug, when she leaned down to whisper in his ear, her lips lightly brushing against his cheek.

“I have looked forward to seeing you the most.”

With the faintest twitch of a wink she withdrew her arms and turned back to face her parents. Dyl struggled to keep his expression neutral, his breath tight in his throat.

“Come, we have made up a room for you to take some rest. You must surely be tired after the long journey?” Queen Aleyn asked her daughter gently, taking her hand and leading her towards the Palace entrance.

“Yes I am a bit,” Elile replied gratefully.

Dyl stood where he was, watching her weave her way into the Palace. He subconsciously moved his hand to touch his cheek, when suddenly he sensed the prickle of eyes staring at him from behind. He turned around sharply to see the King giving him a appraising look.

“Your Majesty?” he asked, trying to keep his voice, deep, level and neutral.

“As you were, my boy,” the King replied, with a sardonic smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Dyl edged cautiously away from the King, a nervous smile playing about his features. Noticing Rhonen and Lian had started walking into the building, he took his cue and hurried after them, not daring to glance back.

Penry watched until the boy had passed out of sight, the smile dissolving from his features to be replaced by a hard, tight look.

“We shall see,” he muttered to himself, clenching and stretching his fists, before turning and entering the Palace himself.

***

Flo. Sorry not written sooner. Communication broken. Find new way. Still with parents. Going to Kyro soon. Love you always. Arkan.

The Messenger Pigeons of Daiiroda: A Secret Story. Entry 2.1.18

***

Elile stood looking at herself in the floor-length mirror, attired in all her ceremonial finery. She was exhausted and could trace the lines of it in her face. She stepped closer to the mirror, her slate-blue eyes an inch away from the glass. Her breath clouded the image and she drew back irritably. She felt hot and confined in the aquamarine construction she had been siphoned into and began to feverishly pull at the strings, bows and clasps that were holding the thing together.

When she had finished the ruined fabric crumpled uselessly to the floor and she kicked it away from her. Noticing her feet, she tore the silken slippers from them, so that her toes could sink deeply into the matt of the rug beneath her. She glanced up again at the mirror and saw herself barefoot, left only in the remnants of her simple green undergown. At that sight she immediately felt so much more free and clear. With a deep sigh she began to pull at the pins and ties that were keeping her hair up in those stylish twists and coils, until that was likewise hanging around her face like a chestnut-brown curtain.

She jumped at the sound of a gentle knock at the door. Glancing guiltily at the ruin of her outfit that lay scattered on the floor, she momentarily hesitated over what to do. With a sudden rush of irreverent confidence she strode over to the door and pulled it open. Leaning against the doorframe was Dyl, who seemed to jump even more than she had when she’d first heard him knock.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude…” Dyl trailed off, looking away from her guiltily and stepping away.

“What are you talking about? You’re not intruding! Come on in!” she replied with a laugh, stretching one of her hands out to him.

“Umm… No, I think best not. Well, I would, but you know… you know, your father...” he stammered in reply, glancing slightly nervously over his shoulder.

“I see,” Elile replied, still amused, glancing down at her disordered appearance. “But if you won’t come in, is there anything else you want?” Dyl blushed slightly, but managed to look up directly into her face.

“Well, I was going to say that I’ve been meaning to investigate a door, to which I’ve finally found the key and well… I was wondering if you wanted to come too. You know, for old time’s sake.”

“Of course!” Elile whispered back excitedly. “But you’ll have to wait here while I get dressed.” With which she swiftly pulled the door shut with a muffled click.

“Nothing ever changes,” Dyl muttered to himself with a smile.

Map 2

My second attempt at a classy map. This time showing roughly what I've so far decided in terms of geography. Unfortunately I may have to change things when I write my way into a section that uses a particular country and the geography doesn't fit with what I want...

Key:
Red dots with a yellow centre: capital cities
Red Dots: Towns/ cities
Tiny yellow dots: sand/ desert
Tiny pale blue dots: Snow/ tundra
Tiny dark blue dots: Ice- no land beneath- eg. Arctic.
Green dashes: plains
Green bumps: dales
Green squiggles: swamp
Green tree-shapes: Jungle
Green lollipop stick: Trees (there's only two of these on the map. There are obviously more trees around I just haven't decided where- definately in the green zones though.)
Brown triangles: mountains
Blue lines: rivers

Big blue dots (not to be confused with lakes- which are blue patches attached to rivers): thermal springs.

Other useful info:


Months of the Year in the Standard World Calendar:
Iojenry
Auldary
Nuinch
Eylth
Naeon
Detu
Ruli
Outenst
Hepti
Tocrea
Vembreni
Sedentin
Yewdri

Rough information on the Kingdoms:

You've got to love stories which give locations uniform climates... and this is roughly where I started when mapping out what each country is. When coming up with the geography of the world I did have various real Earth countries in mind, which I afterwards realised was sadly affecting my choice of names for places- and in one occasion occured after noicing the shape of the country I'd just drawn (sigh). I'll bracket which Earth location I had in mind for general interest purposes. If there is a country you think should have its name tweaked in retrospect- mention it in the comments and I'll see what I can do.

Callania (Britain- yes I am that sad and obvious as basing my main characters in a country similar to my own.). A temperate downs kingdom. Capital city is Geveny. Minor town is Ystia.

Aetyorthiri (Scotland/ Norway/ Denmark). A bordering kingdom that slopes up into the mountains and down to wet plains.

Tygeriq (Sahara/ Egypt) A desert kingdom.

Setzenein (Himalayas) A mountain Kingdom.

Arrozale (Cornwall) A Coastal Kingdom. Capital is Dirdarn.

Koutuamaa (Finland/ Alaska/ Arctic) An arctic Kingdom.

Silvetera (London/ Rome) A central, urban Kingdom specialises in trade, biggest market, richest province. Capital city is Silvetera.

Gentrare (Greece/ Italy) A rich, hot valley Kingdom.

Daiiroda (China) A wet, fertile plains region with a damper, hotter south and salt marshes to the south west.

Maoniong (India/ Australia) A small, hot, rocky Kingdom.

Wahalanang (Brazil/ Indonesia) A jungle Kingdom.

This is the main continent in the world- although it is not the only landmass. The people who live on the continent are not interested in what lies beyond the Unchartered Oceans and it doesn't feature in the plot that I am writing.

Shift, Chapter 5

1st Iojenry 4367

Dear Diary,

Dyl is leaving today to go and live with mum and dad in Silvetera. I wish I was going instead, its so boring here in Dirdarn. It’ll be even more boring without Dyl’s jokes, especially if they don’t let me out of this court more often.

In her last letter Flo told me that there is a circus coming to Silvetera, all the way from Maoniong! That’s the other side of the world from here. I wish I could go visit there, but Aunt Vinthia says that it’s a very long sea journey and I get sea sick. I could Shift and swim there, but I’m not very good at water Shifts. I’d probably get stuck in the middle of the ocean and drown. Perhaps I could fly. I can do a good owl shift, but I don’t think I could fly that far without a break.

I suppose I’ll just have to stay here, as usual.

Excerpts from the Diary of Princess Elile of Silvetera, Age 9.

***

“Have you heard?” Srynia eagerly asked her sister as she rushed into the stables.

“Hmm?” Riarna replied dozily from where she was carefully brushing her horse’s tail.

“Apparently there’s a circus in Silvetera and its all the way from Maoniong!”

“Really? How interesting.” Riarna replied apathetically, earning herself a disapproving huff from her sister.

“Aren’t you at all excited? This means we’re going to get to see them when we go with Dad to the Silveteran Horse Market next month!” Seeing her sister shrug indifferently, Srynia pulled a face behind her back.

“I saw that,” Riarna remarked reprovingly.

“Well, then. Stop being so boring! Come on, lets walk into town- that way we might get a chance to meet up with Mina and that lot.”

“I don’t know,” Riarna replied unenthusiastically. “Mina’s really quite annoying. She doesn’t stop talking. And its not like she ever says anything remotely interesting.” Srynia giggled and gently pushed her sister on the shoulder.

“You’re so mean sometimes. But come on, lets do something. It’s not good being stuck in this place all day.” Riarna stopped brushing her horse and turned to smile at her sister.

“You’re right. How about we go out for a ride- like we always used to when we were little? A proper adventure with a picnic and a camp fire and everything?” Srynia paused contemplatively for a moment.

“Yeah, why not? We can make a proper day of it. Mum and Dad won’t mind- they’ll probably be glad to see us out riding like we used to before…” she drifted off briefly, “well, just before in general,” she finished quickly. Noticing her sister was upset, Riarna quickly intervened.

“It’ll be great! Come on, lets go to the kitchen and see what we can pillage from the larder.”

“Sure!” Srynia replied laughing, as the two girls dashed off towards the house.

***

Wer·serk [wâir-sûrk] noun, adjective.

1. Noun, a human that loses social, moral and emotional control when assuming a Shifted form. Usually characterised by extreme rage and violence.
“The Werserk slaughtered the livestock.”

2. Adjective, used to describe a Shifted human in an uncontrollable emotional state, usually characterised by irrational rage and frenzied violence.
“The shark was werserk when he bit through the boat.”

***

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Srynia asked her sister, slightly alarmed by the fright in her voice.

“Howling. It’s like wolves howling. But why would they howl at this time of day?” Riarna replied nervously.

“I can’t hear it,” Srynia replied, glancing around the clearing cautiously.

“I’m going to try Shifting to see if I can hear it more clearly,” Riarna replied as she stood up and began to focus on the Shift. Stretching downwards and out, she gradually assumed the shape of a wolf. Sitting down she tilted her head and focused on the distant sound.

“What can you hear?” Srynia asked her sister, still looking nervously around herself.

Faint. Distant.

“So there is something?” Srynia added, looking directly at her sister, her voice edged with panic.

Coming Closer.

“We’d better head back. Pack up the stuff, get on the horses and go,” Srynia poured the rest of a can of water over the fire and started kicking up some loose soil to spread and stamp on the sizzling ashes.

No time. Go now.

“We can’t leave our stuff here- we’ve got to put this fire out properly.”

No time. They are coming. Go now.

“What about you? You are coming aren’t you? Quickly, you’ll have to Shift back and help me.” Riarna focused on her sister through her wolf’s eyes and tried to concentrate. Her instincts seemed to be rebelling against converting back into her defenceless human form. With a great effort of will, she gradually managed to stretch back out into her human shape.

“Come on! Let’s go!” Srynia called to her, leading the two skittish ponies into the clearing. Shaking her head to regain her focus, Riarna grabbed her reins and quickly jumped astride her jittery pony. The howling was clear enough to distinguish in her human form now and the undertones in the sound were unmistakable.

“Werserks,” Srynia stated. “Come on. We might still make it back if we hurry.”

The ponies broke into a fierce gallop without much need for encouragement and disappeared between the trees.

***

Dear Lile,

Arrived in Silvetera today. It really is as big as you told me! And so busy! I can see why you thought Dirdarn was so boring.

I got to meet my other cousins today. Flo says to send her love and to say that she’ll send you a souvenir from the Maoniong Circus. Your family is being really nice to me, but I do miss the beaches and rivers of Arrozale. There are so many people and buildings here. It feels so crowded.

Uncle Penry was very nice to me. He gave me a bow and said I could go practice on the target range whenever I liked. I’m really excited- I always wanted to learn archery but my Mum said I was too young.

I think everything is going to be fine here- although it would be better if you could come too. It’s strange being in a place where you don’t know anyone.

Write back soon and let me know how things are going. And don’t forget to try that locked passage in the back of the Armoured Gallery- I think it might be another secret way down to the cellars.

Dyl

Assorted Letters by King Dylanon of Arrozale.

***

“Alarm! Alarm! Raise the alarm! Weserks approaching from the north!” the crier ran through the town banging a drum and shouting at the top of his voice.

“Weserks?” Willan exclaimed with a groan. “That’s the last thing we need. Come on, Del, we’d better get back quick and bring in the horses.” They hurried back to their farm, accompanied by the sound of slamming doors and locking bolts. Sprinting back into the yard, Willan ran directly to the stable block and started to grab head collars. Deleha rushed into the house but stopped dead at the sight of a note pinned to the wall.

Gone picnic riding in the wood.
Back for dinner.
Love Sryn and Ri.

“Willan!” she shouted, ripping the letter down and dashing back into the yard.

“What is it?” he called in reply.

“The girls! They’re out riding in the woods! What’ll we do?” she replied in a panic, running over to her husband. Willan frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

“We’ll have to go after them,” he replied, “Never mind the horses. We’ll have to get out there and track them down.”

With that the pair both quickly Shifted into their strongest form, Deleha as a horse and Willan as a wolf. Willan quickly picked up his daughters’ trail and started loping off in that direction, Deleha trotting after him. They had just reached the border of their land when they both heard a sound that chilled them to their hearts.

Weserks. Close.

***

WESERK WOLVES ATTACK YSTIA

Weserks attacked the town of Ystia today and reawakened fears about the growing threat of Weserk Wolves in the region.

Weserk Syndrome is a relatively uncommon affliction, which seems to predominantly affect people who have a totemic predisposition. There is generally believed to be a strong link between Weserks and people who are born to parents whose Primary Shift is a strong carnivore. However, others dismiss this theory and believe the condition arises following certain virulent diseases, that may inhibit the genetic Shifting that occurs to allow the human to control the mental and emotional capacities of their body.

However, there is no answer as to why the most common Weserk Shift is the wolf, nor why the Weserk Wolves never attack each other. Weserks in other forms have never been seen to distinguish between other Weserks and unaffected humans or animals. There is some speculation that it is possible that the strong pack bond of the wolf overrides the insane rage of the Weserk, which in more antisocial species will turn against everything around it and eventually upon itself.

***

FURY. HUNGER. ITCH.

“Come on Ri, we’re nearly back now,” Srynia called over her shoulder to her sister, who was lagging behind.

“I can feel them. They’re so close now,” Riarna replied faintly, wobbling slightly on her galloping pony.

RAGE. THIRST. ITCH.

“We’re nearly there. I can see the border of our land. And look! There’s Mum and Dad! They’ll save us! Come on!” Srynia yelled in reply, digging her heels hard into her ponies side, darting forward with a sudden spurt of extra speed.

TRACK. SCENT. HUNT.

“Mum! Dad!” Srynia called out desperately, turning to see her sister lagging back even more.

Coming. Nearly there.

“Ri! Kick on! Just a little bit more!” Srynia shouted back at her sister.

COMING. NEARLY THERE.

Charging at full speed, Willan shot past his daughter’s galloping ponies and leapt straight into the path of the leading Weserk Wolf. Deleha turned and flanked her daughters, nipping their ponies to drive them on. Struggling with the Weserk, Willan was locked jaw-to-jaw, each tearing and snapping at the other. The Weserks stopped and circled around Willan, each one trying to leap in and snatch a bite. He looked desperately around himself and realised he chances of escape were now minimal unless he changed Shift. Thinking quickly he realised there was only one form that might work against them. Concentrating through the pain and blood, he Shifted and leapt onto the back of the lead Werserk, disguised in the form of a flea.

PAIN. HUNGER. ITCH.

***

5th Nuinch 4367

Dear Dyl,

Thanks for your letter. It cheered me up in a really dull day. I’m so jealous you’re learning archery! I wish I was doing something that fun. Today I learned how to add up the accounts book for a plot of entailed land. It was less than fun.

I tried the passage you suggested. It came to a dead end where the tunnel had collapsed. I think it may lead directly to outside the Castle! If I can dig my way through, we might have another secret exit for our list. Although I don’t know what use it’ll be without you. It’s not as much fun exploring on my own. I wish you had some brothers and sisters I could take with me. Or at least any other kids. Its so unbelievably dull with just grown-ups.

Keep in touch to let me know how things are going in Silvertera.

Love from,

Elile.

Letters of Princess Elile of Silvetera.