Part 1

WARNING: SCENES OF BRUTALITY

If you are born a wolf in Eloisa, you are destined to a life of servitude. We are called mutts: only left scraps and barely provided a place to rest our heads. Our sole purpose in this world is to protect the elves' royal court. In wars we are the first wave of attack, in peace we guard the castle walls; however, a lucky few are allowed into the Illandra court, the elves renowned kingdom, to protect the royal family. The rest of us are used to hunt, pull their carriages, mend their crops, and build new infrastructure to protect Illandra from rival kingdoms.

Luckily, pups avoid strenuous labor as dictated by the Government: a clan of elven leaders. Instead, they gather fruit, vegetables, and grain half the day and attend school or play for the rest. Yet, when they grow to the ripe age of eighteen seasons, they are deemed Eloisa property. Sadly, I turn eighteen this year and it is my turn to be sent to Illandra to await my fate.

"Kaesar, wake up! You must go with the others before you are left behind!" a soft voice urges.

My eyes flutter open, rubbing the dirt from my face as I gaze upon my mother. Her brown hair is draped by a moth-eaten scarf, her dusty dress has dried blood from heavy labor freckled around her waist, and her hands are scarred from the field. I hated that my mother was forced to work in such a place. The field was a large deserted area, an unforgiving rocky desert terrain, where wolves are forced to erect buildings for the Government. The long days and the grueling heat have killed many, and any wolves who tore or weaken from the strenuous labor will only be met with a lashing. I could tell by my mother's swollen eyes that she had had a miserable day, and on top of that her only child must leave her side...I could barely stand it.

"Here, let me clean you up," I say, getting off my mat under our canopy: putting a rag in our small bowl of cleaning water.

"Kaesar…" she strains, allowing me to dab her bruises with the cool rag, "you must leave before you get a lashing. I can't bear to see that again."

I finish dabbing my mother's scars as I gently hold her chin: washing the dirt off of her face. "I care not, mother, for it is worth it if I'm able to aid you one last time."

My mother tears up at my words, holding me close. "Oh my son, I can barely breathe at the thought. You are my life! No matter where you are placed or where you will go, we shall see each other again."

I hold my mother close, not wanting to let her go. I hear her words but we both know it cannot be. The tale of mother and son must end, as it has for many generations. Now, she must be a distant memory, but it was hard…so hard to take that next step.

"Yes…one day." I reassure her.

I know how difficult it will be for her to carry on with her life in the field without anyone waiting for her at home. We were the only family we had. My father and elder brother died in a war against the Avengard three years ago. Ever since then, I've had a deep hatred for the Government. They denied my mother and I the opportunity to retrieve their bodies and burnt their remains regardless of our pleas. In our culture, our remains were sacred. They must be buried under the earth, back from which we began. That is the only way for our souls to repeat the great circle and re-emerge anew in our next life. By blatantly disregarding this tradition, it took away my father and brothers chance for their spirits to latch upon a new soul, and thus they will never be reborn. This is why, leaving my mother now while not knowing either of our fates, was heartbreaking.

"Kaesar!" I hear a harsh voice, almost robotic, call behind me as I am faced with three Illandran soldiers.

The man who called my name was Philis, an elven combat warrior. Coincidentally he is the same bloke who whipped me for participating in a small rebellion against the Government. The plight ended quickly as several of our kind were killed and I was surrounded by guards upon realizing the horrors of what I had done. During the rebellion…I had killed one of our own. It was then that I realized my true form, the black mist that is feared and hated. That day was the first time I had seen my fathers curse latch onto my fur…and it was then that I lost control. When my eyes glazed over by the calming whisps, I blacked out: unable to discern friend or foe. But it was Philis, in his golden armor, that struck me down before I could continue my plight. The same scar from his blade still seems fresh upon my chest.

"You must report with the others immediately." Philis snarled, his slick black hair gleaming in the sunlight upon his pale skin.

His eyes, a fierce gold, shift to my mother as the two guards surround us: ripping her from my hands as I growl mad with rage. I lunge forward, tumbling one of the guards. But my plight was short lived, as Philis' spear lands swiftly on my Adam's apple.

"Take one step towards her and that will be her undoing Kaesar," Philis states coldly, his spear not wavering.

The guard who had fallen grunts upright, picking up my sack, which I had prepared for the journey. He throws it in my direction as I catch it, obediently staying put.

"Now, move! We've wasted enough time." Philis says, lowering his weapon.

I hesitate, looking at my mother being held by the guards.

"Go Kaesar, I will be fine."

I nod, trying to contain my anger, mouthing "I love you." I see her hesitant and wet eyes, which only makes me turn from her glance. I cannot give Philis the satisfaction of seeing my cry. I cannot.

"This way Kaesar." he motions, making me walk ahead of him as the soldiers drop my mother in order to catch up to us.

Don't turn back.

I say to myself, forcing my view toward the road ahead.

Dont.

I continue to urge myself forward, marching through the woods and passing by other wolves that most likely lost their pups to the Government. Their solemn eyes pang at my soul as Philis snarles, agitated by their sorrow.

"Get back to work dogs! The king does not have sympathy for lazy animals!"

With that the wolves quickly disperse, anger and sadness clouding their faces, but we know we can do nothing to improve our ill fortune. We continue to pass the small wind-damaged tents and tarps used to house our kind. The merriment of the young pups dance almost the soulless day plays with my mind. I'm a matter of minutes, the forest fades from my eyes as the soldiers behind me push me out of the brush. I stumble, trying to brace myself: only to lift my head to a line of 100 wolves. They are all chained to one another, under heavy guard of soldiers who stand around them. Illandra sure does not tally on gaining their new servants.

"Heh, look who showed up." a broad wolf named Anton smirks.

Anton was one of the young who joined the campaign against the Government. He was also the brother of the wolf I had killed: Raen. No matter how hard I pleaded or begged for forgiveness, I knew that none of it would rid me of that great shame.

Phyllis chained me behind him, as I locked eyes with Anton. Whispers began to erupt amongst the others.

"Alright, now that we are all settled, welcome to the beginning of your future in Eloisa. You will all be handpicked by Government officials so that you can be assigned your line of work. Then, you will be trained so that you are aware of the rules and customs in which our great king has put forth. Some of you mutts may even have the privilege of serving in our quarters, so put on your best show!" Philis announces.

We were all silent, eyes weary of the man. We all know what our trek across the countryside meant. Families, friends, everything would be gone after we reached the capital. Now, like cattles, we are herded off to be bought and sold.

After the lapse of silence, Philis looked at his soldiers. "My legion is set to kill anyone who dares change into his or her beast before we reach Illandra. Only within the castle walls will you be asked to show your flea-bitten-selves, not before. Understand?"

We all stay silent as I glare at the brute. It enrages me more that he is making us travel in our human forms when he knows being a wolf is much easier. This will only tire us out…kill us off even. Even though, for the safety of the pack, I wouldn't dare to change. But my hatred bears deeper than most, and that alone would keep me alive.

"Alright," Philis calls to his men, "Move out!"

I feel the chains on my wrists and legs tug as I follow the other wolves on this desolate road. The sun bears down upon us, making my hair stick to my head from the sweat that accumulates on my forehead. It only took me a second to realize the trials I would endure moving forward in life.

For this is the beginning of the end.

"So, how does the black mist come to be among us?" a short red head wolf asks, looking back in my direction.

"Last I heard the Government will not tolerate having you in their army. You'll be working the field for the rest of your pathetic life."

Anton laughs. "No one, not even your own kind, wants you near them. Your filth gamon," he says, forcefully pulling down on his chains as my body lurches forward.

I snarl, steading myself from the force. Gamon...black mist...this is what my pack thinks of me. It all comes from an old legend about a wolf that was able to change his form into a mist, destroying all things in site: good or bad. Unfortunately, after my plight against the Government, my family's secret was blown when my body changed into a wolf made from black fog, killing over one hundred Illandran officials. Yet, when I turned on my own kind, my family's good standing with my pack fell. This is why my mother and I were banished to the outskirts of the forest. We were just as bad as the Government to them, thus calling us gamon: outcast.

"Is it not enough that we are all being marched to our death? Most of us won't survive the first wave this year," I say, silencing the two.

"You don't have the right..." Anton starts.

"I have my god given right to speak my mind when I want to! That is what got me in trouble in the first place, Anton. The Government has killed our families and friends, yet because of one mishap, you all can't get past that?!"

"How can we if we can't trust you?" A blonde haired wolf next to me spoke.

He looks me in the eyes, "You turn on your own kind and expect us to heed your word."

I look hard at him, noticing that half of the pack was listening. "You are right. I cannot control it, but I will…"

"Pish posh!" the red head scoffs, "I'm not putting my luck in with you. I saw what happened to Raen! You will only lead us to ruin. Hell, you're probably the elves' pawn. Doing their dirty work just to appease their king. So fuck off with your sobs, Gamon. No one cares for your lies!"

My mouth shut, knowing that anything I say would be futile. They will never trust me.

Anton laughs at my silence. "Looks like not even filth can come back from the dump."

A good portion of the pack laughs at his remark as I straighten, ignoring their sneers. I know it's going to be hard gaining my pack's favor after what happened. How could they trust me? Yet, these were new times and regardless of my past, I would do my best to prove to my pack that I was worthy to be among them.

"Tell her to straighten up!" I hear Philis yell ahead as a guard forcefully shoves a girl upright.

She looks sick, judging by her pale tan skin. Even though she was ten or so wolves away, I could see her body sway back and forth like a ship at sea. With this journey, she would surely collapse…or worse be killed off by the soldiers.

Suddenly, she falls to the ground: pulling two wolves after her as they try to regain their composure. Philis stops his advances as a soldier calls him toward the back of the line. She quivers amongst the gravel, sand blowing from her painful gasps, as a guard orders her to get up.

My hands mold into fists as I see Philis come to her side, kicking her with his steel boot. Yet the other wolves stay mum, whether because they knew they would be punished or that it was pointless to come to her aid. However, when she pleads for him to stop, I can't control myself.

"She just needs some water!" I shout.

Philis and the others direct their attention towards me, amazed at my outburst.

Philis sighs, walking away from the poor wolf's body and looks at me. "So what is it now Kaesar, trying to play doctor?"

"It doesn't take a doctor to notice she's sick, Philis." I reply enraged. "She needs rest and water."

Philis and his men begin to laugh, sounding like a pack of hyenas. I didn't expect him to take me seriously, but that inhuman cackle made my blood boil. But the worst was yet to come. For Philis took a soldier's sword and plunged it into the poor wolf's head. And my heart, my soul, could not ponder it. All that echoed was a howl of surprise and agony. The other wolves echo my cry, infuriated as some soldiers remove her chains and throw her by the wayside. Why…no how could he do such a thing?! She broke no rules!

"There's one thing you don't understand, Kaesar." He states as a soldier comes by me and unchains me. "You don't make suggestions to my troop. We march without any breaks. Those who survive are those that we keep."

My eyes quiver with rage as two soldiers push me towards Philis. The pack begins to stare in my direction as I stand before my pack. Still, as my body faces him and I feel my shirt being ripped off my back, I can't take my eyes off of the elf. He seems to notice my defiance and slaps me hard across the face. My cheeks begin to burn from his metallic gloves.

"You will change your attitude around here or you will end up just like her! And this time, I will personally deliver your mangled corpse to your mother."

I spit on the ground in front of him, my eyes returning to his golden pupils as I am forced down on my knees.

"Bring me the cat of nine," Philis says, his voice dropping.

A soldier walks near us, his chain mail clanking, as he hands the whip to Philis.

"Now this is a message for all of you," he says, walking behind me as I sit firmly before him. "If you defy me, you will die."

That's when the first lash came. The pain was unbearable, but it was not foreign. This was not the first time I had been punished. Philis seemed to note this, the second lash receiving more grit as I moan in pain, not wanting to scream to give him satisfaction. I was more so enraged by making a sound, that I began to dig my hands into my pants. I could feel my nails giving way to my grip.

"You will not have water," he snarls as he whips me again, "nor will you have food."

"Am I clear?" he asks, as a series of lashes fall upon me.

I exhale, almost letting out a scream as I buckle over my knees in pain. I feel blood dripping down my back, but the shock shortly turns to horror as my body begins to awaken and spasm. It was then that I was faced with Philis' boots.

"Am I clear Kaesar," he says as he hands the whip to his soldier.

Since I did not respond, he sighs as a job well done. I take this to mean I was off the hook, trying to get up. Yet, he stops my advances by kicking me under my jaw so ferociously that the pain makes my eyes go white. I suddenly feel the hot sand beneath my body as I fall to the ground: my mind going black. It was so dark, so cold, that I slowly became consumed in a mist.