Chapter 21

The WereCats

Inside the tavern was loud. There was the sound of clinking glasses, but one could ignore that. Sometimes a group when break into a drunken song. That was also bearable, no matter obnoxious, how out of tune, how obscene it was. Every now and then a fight would break out and then end as suddenly as it had begun. Strangely, nobody ever bothered to discover the reasons for these fights. They just happened.

Evan found a seat in one of the darker corners of the tavern to try and escape from the overpowering noise. What Evan couldn't stand was the shouting. It seemed as though if by some unwritten rule, if a person had something to say, they had better shout it. Evan felt that a shout was a harsh, angry, unfeeling sound. It was unnecessary. There was already enough hate in the world, why did people have to create more with their shouting, he thought.

Every now and then, the wooden door would swing open with a creak and a blast of cold air and snow would whirl in with a frostbitten person or two. For this reason, the tavern never fully heated up.

Every chair, every bench, ever stool, every surface to sit on was occupied by a person, some glasses, or something else that you would rather not sit on.

Evan looked down at his glass. It was about two thirds of the way filled with beer. It smelled sour, like a concentrated source of the overall smell of the tavern. Evan didn't actually like beer. He just needed something to ease his mind. Sitting in this tavern wasn't helping much. But it was better than sitting out in the freezing cold. He wanted to stay inside where it was warm. Although, he had to admit to himself, it wasn't much warmer inside the tavern than it was outside in the freezing cold.

"At least you aren't out on the front getting your guts blown up," Evan thought. That was true. But how long would that last? Any moment, a sergeant, or maybe a general, would whirl his way into the tavern and bark orders at the man to take their places on the front, because the attack was starting. It was a cycle. Drink, fight, get killed or live, then drink to forget what you saw fighting. Evan didn't like it, but it was the only way to live for a man like him.

He heard an especially loud burst of laughter. He turned his head, not in interest, but because he was bored of staring at his glass of beer or the wooden tabletop. It was John laughing. Not only John, but it seemed that John was the one who started the laughter. John was loud, obnoxious, arrogant, a good fighter, and bound to get himself killed. He could destroy three dragons in a single explosion, and however many fairies that were riding them, but in order to do that, he constantly put himself in death's hands. Evan wondered if the man simply didn't have anything to live for, or if he was an authentic showoff. Probably the latter, he thought.

The wooden door swished open with a swirl of white. A figure wearing a green coat immerged. The room went completely silent. The figure took off his hat, and looked around him, with an air of authority. He was a General of Greenland. He spoke.

"Boys, you are needed." The instant he had finished this sentence, the whole room moved towards the door.

"Stop!" He yelled. "This is not just an ordinary battle." Everyone froze. " Our elves tell us that there is something out there in the storm. They cannot decipher what it is. All they know is that it is dangerous and that it is not on our side. My men, we need you to fight it, whatever it is." The men looked at each other disbelief.

"We are supposed to fight something and we don't even know what it is?" called a voice from the crowd. "If the elves can't tell, then how are we supposed to?" There was a thunder of agreement.

"If we do nothing, the- whatever it is- will destroy our camps and our men. We cannot let it come through without a fight," said the general.

"But, do we even know how dangerous it is?" spoke another.

"Well, we can't be sure, you see-" the general stuttered. Evan interrupted.

"Tell us, General, how many of your elves were sent to investigate and how many came back alive?" There was silence.

"We sent out twenty elves and their sprites. One elf returned" he said grimly. The room errupted in protest.

"Do you mean to tell us that we are walking into certain death?" someone called.

"Not quite," said John, being the only one who had not protested in anyway. "We just have a one in twenty chance of surviving."

"Be reasonable," bellowed the General over the mutterings of protests. "You are doing this for your people, for your country. If you do not at least try to stop this, this thing then who knows what it might do and where it might go. It could go to the homes of your families for all you know, and kill them, after killing you, while you were sitting here arguing over fractions. The chances may be small, but I am commanding each and every one of you to go out there and fight your best, in the hopes that maybe we can stop these things."

"There are more than one of them?" John joked.

"GO!" the General bellowed again. Each and every man leapt from his seat and made his way into the freezing, swirling cold, to the trenches.

The cold hit Evan so hard he nearly stumbled. He hoped that his running would keep him from freezing. They jumped into the trenches, prepared their weapons, and waited for their command.

"Certain death, that's what this is. We are running into a snow storm, in which we can hardly see to the end of our noses, and we are expected to destroy a creature that mangled twenty elves. We have no choice. It is death in battle or death in waiting. Here goes nothing." The command was sounded.

Nearly a hundred of them bolted into the swirling whiteness, each and every one of them expecting to trip on death at any moment. Then ran and ran until their lungs smarted sharply from the cold air. Though they could not see each other, nearly every single one of them stopped running at the same time. The ones who did not had already met their fate.

Evan did not know why he had stopped. He saw no point in going on. He could easily have run straight into a tree. His sword was out, held in front of him. He walked in a circle, looking sharply to the left and right, trying in vain to see something through the whiteness. But nothing could be seen. Every other soldier did the same thing.

Though the soldiers did not know it, they were all inside a ring of trees. And in each and every one of the trees were three or more Red fairies, sitting, waiting, and watching. They looked through the snow as a cat looks through a window, and chuckled to each other over the panicked humans.

Anna was there, though not in a tree. She and some other friends were on the ground, waiting for the right moment. She thought to her friends, instructing them on what to do. If she had been in human form, she would've laughed.

Sometimes the men would bump into each other, frightening each other nearly to death. Though the snow was thick and everywhere, the wind was completely silent. They could sometimes hear each others crunching footsteps on the snow. Every identical boot sounded exactly the same as it packed down the snow beneath it. Crunching snow and heavy breathing was all that could be heard.

They continued to simply walk in circles, listening to each others footsteps. Then, slowly, so subtly many did not notice it, the sound of another foot stepping could be heard. It was much larger than the boots and made a louder sound. It started out quiet and became louder and louder, until a group of ten or fifteen soldiers could hear it all around them. They could see nothing, but could only hear the footsteps.

Suddenly, every other soldier froze in fear as they heard the horrible sound of a scream unlike any woman's scream, and the ripping and tearing of human flesh.

Eighty of the hundred original soldiers were alive.

Evan was still alive and he had heard the terrible growling and crunching. He could not bear to imagine what sort of creatures were surrounding them.

Soon another group of soldiers heard the crunching of foreign footsteps. The other soldiers again heard the blood chilling sound of bodies being torn to shreds by what must be gigantic mouths.

Fifty of the original hundred soldiers were still alive.

Their numbers dwindles faster the longer they waited. Never was a soldier given a chance to slash even once at the deadly beasts. The men simply circled stupidly until they were destroyed.

Evan was frightened. He was horrified. He was terrified. He was petrified. And soon he could walk in circles no longer. He just stood frozen, almost literally, with his sword in front of him. He waited. He heard other soldiers nearing him. He heard large footsteps coming closer. He tried to concentrate on his own breathing, but it didn't seem to be there anymore.

And all at once he saw the creature. As big as an elephant, it was a wild cat with eyes the size of windows and claws the size of swords. It batted at Evan with its gigantic paw, and pawed at him several times when he fell on the ground. Then it, along with the three or four other creatures like it, proceeded to destroy the last of the soldiers.

News on the War: WereCats Strike Again

An attack of Katdka yesterday marks the seventh attack of the WereCats that has been reported. (Previous attacks have been focused in the areas of Nelton and Mortizan.) Always under a vale of fog, The WereCats revealed themselves in Katdka in the evening of Midsummer's Day. Two thousand soldiers were taken prisoner, and are heading towards the El Zanjo border. More news to follow.

Anna lay on a cot and braced herself against the pain. She had to concentrate on something else.

She was making progress. Rachton, Aben, Rute, Penstak, and Farwau were cooperating nicely. Having these kingdoms in her control would allow her to invade Canilton, severing their original pact. The fewer countries she worked with, the more she could conquer.

And besides all this headway, two thousand Greenland soldiers were now in her possession. She would have to move them out of here fast, but how could she if she was unable to reveal herself for at least a day or two.

Maybe I could go out for just today. Maybe there won't be as much fog as yesterday. Maybe nobody will notice. Maybe I can just stay hidden. Maybe I could ask that extremely handsome general to help me hide-

"No! No. Stop it, no."

This is crazy. You can't keep this a secret forever. Eventually people find out.

And then they'll burn you at the stake.

Hah! Burn meat the stake. I'd like to see them try. No. When they find out, they'll respect me all the more. In fact, maybe I should stop hiding and just tell them. Maybe I should- Augh!-

Anna's face twisted in pain as steal claws sprouted out of her hands that were swiftly turning into fur covered paws, as large as boulders.

Think of something else. Think of something else.

She would put the soldiers to work fighting in her battles with Rute and Farwau, and in Rachton, Aben, and Penstak if necessary. This would give her the boost she would need to win this war and rule this world.

Yes. Rule the world. You can rule the world.

"AAAACH!"

Special fairy servants rushed into her tent, strapping her limbs to the ground so that she would not destroy them all.

A female fairy immerged from the red and black striped tent. She wiped her forehead with her hand and sighed.

Her head jerked up as she noticed someone staring curiously at her and the tent behind her. It was the commander in charge of the Greenland prisoners.

"What do you want?" the fairy barked at him.

"I want to know when we will be moving those prisoners. Greenland is on to us. They'll be here soon. If we don't move those prisoners before the day is out they'll be taken back from us."

"Is that all?" The commander looked outraged.

"No, as a matter of fact, that is not all. I wish to see the Queen as it seems you have no idea whatsoever of implications of what I have just told you. I demand to see her."

The fairy smirked.

"You do, do you? Well I'm sorry but the Queen is incapacitated at the moment and she will be for the next few days. She is incapable of going anywhere. It's the kind of thing that happens only once a month if you get my drift. Now, stop shouting, and leave the Queen in peace." And with that, the fairy walked swiftly away.

The commander rolled his eyes.

"Females."

War Update: Prisoners Rescued!

A majority of the two thousand Greenland soldiers previously taken prisoner were rescued by a fleet of Griffins and were flown across Canilton back to their home base. One thousand and six hundred soldiers alive, the rest missing, presumed dead.