My white fur stood out against the night as I prowled through the trees as a wolven in the shadows. I kept crouched, just in case there were cultists nearby. The wind whistled through the leaves, creating an almost flute-like sound, and the snow crunched underneath my paws. The air felt crisp and brisk as the snowflakes trickled down. Hopefully the heavy snowfall would mask any paw prints I left behind on my journey.
I was a mile outside of town, searching the woods. There were monsters lurking out here in the darkness, but I had no time for them. If one crossed my path, I’d do what I could to avoid it and move on, unless I had no other choice but to fight.
The trees parted slightly up ahead. I slunk to the ground and kept my ears up. My shifter sight helped me to see in the dark. Against the ridge of a mountain was the opening of a cave. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not, but the cave’s mouth looked like a skull, gaping teeth wide to swallow fae whole. Two eyes in the cave’s ceiling looked on vacantly toward the world.
I kept myself hidden in the snow as I waited. It wasn’t long before I saw two cloaked figures wandering forward from the blizzard’s rage. I couldn’t tell who they were, only that their cloaks were black. They remained close together as the wind raged on.
They could be cultists. I wasn’t sure who else would be out here, up to no good in the middle of the night.
The two figures paused at the entrance of the cave. One raised a hand— the air shimmered and weaved, and the two figures stepped on through. I noticed as they passed
There was a particular shine to the spot they’d traveled through, a sort of glamour.
With the sight of the illusion being performed, I was certain. So this was the Black Claw’s hideout. A cavern. Interesting choice.
I crept forward. When I got to the cave’s entrance, I pressed a paw against the shield I’d seen the fae dissolve. My paw met a block, and I could go no farther.
The entrance to the cave was blocked by an enchantment. You needed a password spell to get through. I could try to break it, but then I’d be out here all night, and who knew if another cultist would discover me in the process.
I returned to the safety of the trees and lay down to think. I could wait for them to come out. But that was a futile effort. I’d need an army to take on the cultists, and as prince regent I didn’t have one at my disposal. It would be an act of war, and only a king could declare that.
I had other options. I could cause an explosion and cave in the entrance. That would take care of the problem.
A twist in my gut made me feel ill to consider the possibility. I’d never taken the life of a fae before, let alone the lives of hundreds. I’d only ever killed monsters— animals. I’d considered murdering the cultist I’d tortured weeks ago, but that was in a moment of rage. To slaughter so many people in such a gruesome way... trap them inside, with no light or food or way of escape, waiting for the inevitable end... it was monstrous in itself.
I would not have the thought of thousands of cultists wasting away on my conscience, even if they were horrible people.
I thought of starting a fire, but illusion magic couldn’t conjure it, and I had no matches or gasoline to create one large enough to chase the cultists out of the cave— not to mention I had no way of getting in, or knowing if they had anything flammable inside.
As I was contemplating, I caught the smell of heavy perfume... roses. A scent I’d never experienced before, but that I liked. There was a woman nearby.
A cultist, most likely. I shot to my feet in a start, heart beating rapidly. I’d been found. Someone was hunting me.
My gaze immediately went upward. There she was, perching in the trees. A woman wearing leather armor and a white cloak hung in the branches, the hood cast over her head. She wore a mask, like me.
“You shouldn’t be here. You need to leave.” The woman’s voice came out in a low, sultry tone. I didn’t recognize it. I didn’t know her.
I bared my teeth. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to scare you off,” the woman warned. “Last chance.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I crouched down and leapt. I soared through the air, jaws extended as I prepared to take her down from the trees. She moved quickly— she jumped to another tree branch just as my paws skimmed her cloak. I fell to the ground, spinning in place to face her again.
The woman gritted her teeth. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
“Enough talking,” I said. “You want to get rid of me, you’ll have to do it by force.”
The woman didn’t need any more convincing. She fell from the trees, her cloak billowing around her. She landed in a crouch and stood tall, flinging her arm outward.
I attempted to charge, but I smashed against a painful illusion spell. The surrounding air crackled like glass, blue veins spreading around my form like I’d hit some kind of shield.
I shook my head, dazed. No illusion had ever stopped me before. This was an exceptional sorceress.
“I know who you are!” the woman threatened. “You’re Prince Ethan of the Arcanea! You need to go back!”
I reeled in shock. Bile rose in my throat, and horror spread from my paws upward. How did she know my name?
My missing leg. I’d never acted as the Phantom in my shifter form before. She must’ve guessed.
