The winter’s chill began over ten centuries ago, back when humanity was both divided and united. Now, little communities remain as each group fights for territory, food, and peace. Most I’ve seen from afar and plan to visit in the future, although I wouldn’t belong in them no matter how long I stayed. 

But still… 

“Stop treckin’, stranger.” A man at the very top of the watchtower aims his rifle down at me. Despite his missing thumb and pinky, he holds the gun steady and will shoot my head if I make a wrong move The fort I’ve chosen to approach used to be an old prison by it’s design but now its been rebuilt into a large shelter. The watchtowers on all four walls center on me. My red hair must stand out the most against the snow. 

“You look like a woman yet the path you took has hoof prints, not boots.” He checks that the gun is loaded and won’t jam from the cold, “Why are you here, Satyr?” 

“Shelter. I’ve been walking for some time. If you have any injured, I would be glad to offer what I can.” I keep my voice as gentle and calm as I can. Sounding frightening is the last thing I want. If they find out what I am..

“Don’t look like your carrying much..” He can’t see what I hide underneath my dark blue cloak. The color is also important. Blue is less likely to make people angry. A scream pierces the eerie quiet of the wilds. The man turns his head before turning back to me, his voice cracks a little. “You knowledgeable ‘bout uh… werewolves? One of our own got bit by an infected wolf last night.” 

“I’m surprised lycans are still around with the scarce food sources.” He must be desperate to divulge such information. The infection causes aggressive behavior and has a low survival rate but an allied lycan can add much needed strength to a hunting party. 

“Just answer my question!” 

“What will you do if I cannot help? The first stages of infection are extreme aggression and a decrease in critical thinking.” 

“We’ll just kill ‘em.” 

“I see.” I consider my options. If the lycan survives the final stages of the infection, then there’s still a high chance that he’ll kill everyone inside here. The urge to feast and hunt will be too great. I can make his death fast. 

“I can help. Please, let me inside so I can see him.” 

“Fine. But we’ll put a bullet in your head if you try anything.” 

Inside, the fort looks much bigger. People threaten to take up every inch of available space. There are a few stalls open where vendors trade items for other things of equal value. Beyond the market area are the farms. A few feet of vegetables and grazing animals kept in relatively good condition thanks to the heat lamps and hay. 

I can take a closer look after. They have to get help from some kind of fae or another magical creature, especially with no available traders for miles around. 

“Which goddess are you serving to keep your supplies in check?” A few people notice me. Some keep staring, some look away.

“A crone.” The man looks back at me, “Heard of them? Foul things, horrifying.. but.. she keeps us fed an’ warm. And relatively safe. In exchange for certain things.”

“Like your fingers?” 

“Hm.”

“I’m impressed that you held the rifle as well as you did.” I give him a nod of approval before gesturing ahead, “Lets keep going.” 

“This way.” Passed the market and the farms is another large door leading inside the building. Mechanics try to keep the wires maintained while Brownies keep the floors and rooms clean. These hobgoblins avoid humans, but I suppose after ten centuries of loneliness and cold, they decided it was best to tolerate their presence instead of dying outside. 

“Where you come from, stranger?” The man looks back at me again, his eyes sweeping over the dampness in my hair, “You don’t use your hood? Hair’s wet.” 

“I’m alright. I was out west, from The Iron Spire.” 

“That bloodbank? What a dump this place must look compared to that, huh.” He sighs as we head down some stairs, “Damn vampires and their technology.. Whats it look like on the inside of that city?” 

“Tall black buildings mirroring the towers that keep the storm above the clouds. The vampires make their homes at the top of these towers while humans and other species live at the bottom floor. Bridges keep it all connected. At the very bottom of the towers is tar. I’m not sure what they use it for, if they use it at all.” 

“Huh. At least we have color here.” He gestures to the cells ahead, “This part of the building was used as a prison, I guess. The doors still work so we keep our rowdy folk here. But now, we had to put Fion back here, too.” 

Fion..? I try to hide my smirk but he catches it, 

“What? Thats his name.” 

“Its French, an old world dialect. It means… hm. Never mind.” Its not a name, from what I remember, its a word. A word for asshole. 

“You said he was infected last night?” 

“Yeah, he’s one of our hunters. Saw a pack of wolves two days back and hunting them went fine until one got Fion on the leg. Now..” We head down to the last cell. The man is huddled in the corner stripped of all clothing. Hair or fur covers all of him aside from the bottom of his feet. 

Hurts! Help, it hurts! 

I stare at the man behind the bars. He’s curled up in a ball, growling and whining more like a dog then human now. We can hear the cracks of his limbs as his bones grow with every second that passes. Soon, his face will start to stretch outward, the gums in his mouth will recede to make his teeth grow larger, sharper. His human ears will move towards the top of his skull and shift into a wolf’s. It is nothing but pain and it will last for fourteen more days. 

“Soon, these bars will not be able to stop him.” I turn my gaze to the guide, “You have seven days to think of a better way to hold him, if that is your intention. After those seven days, his strength will grow well beyond a human’s and he will start eating people.” 

“Can’t you cure him? You said you could do it!” His shoulders tense as he looks at Fion, then back at me. He’s scared now but tries to hide it. 

“I said I could help any way I could. There isn’t a cure but I can make it fa—” My words are interrupted by the desperate voice piercing my skull.

I know you can hear me! I see you! 

His bloodshot eyes look towards me. I can see my own reflection in them. A dark horse with a red mane, forever soaked with water and malice. I know I must drown the people here, their screams will be like music. I will make the lycan watch as he transforms.

Help me before I turn completely! I don’t want to hurt anyone! 

No. I must be different. 

“I must speak with the crone.”