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roadnottaken
Scribe
Joined: 22 Jan 2009
Posts: 333
Karma: 0
19.00 Experience
Location: Cleveland, OH
Mon Jan 26, 2009 9:07 pm
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Trial by Fire
Six months after undergoing the first change, Matthew Green received the most most vivid prophetic dream since his first change.
He sits accross a chess table from an unusually large, heavily scarred wolf. A few of the scars give off a disturbing blood-red aura. His king is well-protected behind a row of pawns, but the wolf has launched a vicious offense, threatening one of his pieces with every move. It is all he can do to keep moving pieces out of the line of fire. Suddenly, the wolf moves a rook to Matthew's home row, capturing his queen. The wolf growls "Checkmate" as the chess board and pieces dissolve into a pool of blood.
Matthew woke with a start. Somehow, he instinctively _knew_ that the dream had to be refering to his parents. He immediately ran out of his pack's house and, throwing caution to the winds, changed to Urshal form. As he ran, he could only think about his parents, and what might happen to them. He finally arrived at his parents' house around midnight, not changing to Hishu until he had reached the front door. He raced to his parents' bedroom to find a dire wolf look up from the bed, its jaws dripping with gore.
Matthew felt the rage growing inside him. He didn't even try to fight it. Slipping easily into the Guaru form, he pounced the intruder before it had the chance to react. It only took a few seconds before the wolf melted into the limp form of a human bearing numerous scars, but Matthew kept attacking. By the time his rage was spent, the corpse was barely recognizable as human, and the entire room was ripped to shreds. As his rage subsided, the magnitude of his loss sank in and Matthew let loose a long, deep howl of sorrow.
Never since since his first change had Matthew's emotions swirled so violently. He needed some anchor to latch onto, some memory of his parents that he could take with him. Then he remembered the halberd hanging over the hearth. His great-great-great-grandfather had wielded it back in Europe. Matthew vowed that once he learned to use the halberd effectively, it would bite the flesh of many Pure. This was the only reminder of his family that he had left.
The mayhem in the bedroom had left enough evidence that any human visitor could guess far too much about the existence of the People. This could not be allowed. He left his mark around the perimeter of the house, charging it with the force of his will so that any human to enter would be held back by fear. It wouldn't last forever, but it bought him more than enough time to do what he must be done.
Returning to the bedroom, Matthew paid his respects for the dead and called forth the elements. A red-orange flame engulfed his hand, pleasently warm, but not burning. At least not yet. He held his hand to the blanket long enough for it to catch fire, and then quickly smothered his hand before he could lose control of the fire and allow it to burn his flesh. Taking the halberd with him, he walked outside and called his pack on his cell phone. As the car drove up, he saw flames beginning to flicker out of the bedroom windows. Now was the time for mourning.
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