The Lost Lycan Empire

CHAPTER 1: June 21

It's June 21, the day. My 21st birthday. Is this my real birthday? Nope, but that's part of the secret.

Birthdays are deemed very special, especially in werewolf communities. After all, we are the smallest supernatural species (right now). We were once huge, mighty, and strong, but since the empire got lost and our kind fought each other, we were halved.

Usually, birthdays are celebrated through enormous celebrations hosted in the main city. Every werewolf's birthday is treasured, especially my constituents, and as the prime legionnaire of the East, my birthday is the most celebrated in my kingdom. It's not a big deal, but some people thought otherwise.

They said that they would like to express their gratitude by honoring my birthday. It has been an enormous celebration till now.

Patrol guards are given the authority to interrogate, capture, and, in some circumstances, kill intruders. That has been the ultimate warning feared by anyone outside the borders, not until yesterday. Thirty rogues were patrolling the red line outside the borders, the same line that was supposed to give the patrol guards permission to kill, but we became the mice in our own trap. Rogues taunt us by crossing the red line while puffing their chess in pride.

I have heard complaints of patrol guards having to be forced off duty due to the irritation of the audacious ruses the rogues are pulling. I was annoyed too. Our authority is being questioned, the honor of the land is being belittled. The only thing stopping me from ordering all rogues down is the King's announcement that no blood shall be shed and a lockdown must be issued. That was still last month.

Until now, he has not lifted the lockdown, forcing the community and the economy to drop tremendously. Walking along the road pavements along the city with the painful silence made me question the king's judgement. I treat him like family, but he always lacks the right decision-making skills.

I rub the circle tattoo of a bangle with an ancient etch marking on my upper right arm, as I always do when I feel anxious.

I opened the door to my bathroom and faced myself in the mirror, awakening the beast.

I saw how my eyes shifted from different colors to never staying one for long. Grabbing my hair in frustration as I sigh.

"Where is my knight?" I growled, smashing the mirror with my fist, letting the blood flow out of the wound as it quickly healed itself.

As Torrey left the room exhausted after cleaning the mess she made, what she didn't see because of the lack of lighting was that her blood was not red. Not anymore.

~~~~~~

It was nighttime. I stood up from a patch of grass littered across the area to the pine trees scattered around me.

In Hell, I'm wearing my battle suit together with my daggers hidden in both of my boots and an egcor handgun that is equivalent to the Red9 handgun that mortals use, though mine has personalized silver bullets while my other hand is holding my monotempered 1045 silver steel.

I'm wearing ALL of my typical fighting gear, and I'm handling some serious sh*t contrary to where I am. The place looks nothing familiar but it felt familiar.

I am holding my head while pinching my pointing finger and thumb, hoping to remember why I am here. I scanned my surroundings and yet I couldn't see anything familiar here: North, South, West, East, and Olympus territory doesn't look like this. I filled my cheeks with air to calm myself.

An unknown territory with not a single modern building in sight. If there are no homes to live in, there is no way humans can stay here.

I am silent and solitary; nobody is here but just me. I filled my lungs with air for a minute to stop my mind from entertaining irrational thoughts like "What if I'm the only one alive?"