Bless Me

Prologue: Keep Being Good

The night was serene. A lone man stumbled through the bramble of an abandoned, over grown temple, his blood leaking from his wound. His scarred hand held it, applying pressure. The carriage had crashed a little ways away. He had to find them.

His breath shuddered as he swallowed roughly. "Mother...sister...father?" He called, wincing as he looked up at the moonlight. What a beautiful night. Surely...on a night like this, things had to go well? The ruins were illuminated, remnants of an old temple.

"You cannot escape Dorian!" His pursuer called. He glanced back in the direction of the voice his lavender eyes glowing and then down at his wound. He would need to find his family first. They were a long way off from the pack. He needed to heal himself. Then he could...

"Hush little one," he heard his mother say weakly.

Dorian's neck snapped toward the sound of her voice as he forced himself forward.

"I'm coming mother," he whispered.

He caught sight of his family a smile on his face, as he approached. The broken remains of the carriage scattered along the road, as he limped closer.

"I'm here mother!" He called, getting closer, leaning against the temple for support.

"Dorian is that you? Don't come here!" She cried.

He frowned but urged closer, into the clearing the scent of iron heady and heavy.

A figure heaved in the middle of the temple. A familiar one. A mirror image. His eyes flamed.

"What have you done?" He whispered, wincing. "You..."

The man shrugged, looking down at the trembling figures at his feet. "I have done what needed doing. What you should've done. What I told you to do."

Dorian scoffed. "You have no honor. No conscience. You will hang for this," he shouted, finally falling to his knees, at the feet of his mother.

The man narrowed his eyes. "I warned you about honor, Dorian."

Dorian pulled his mother into his arms, his shaking hand gathering his little sisters body pulling them to his chest. He exhaled shakily.

"How could you do such a thing? You call yourself a man? A warrior? A Lycan! Look at the innocent blood you have shed!" Dorian called out in anguish, his eyes filled with his tears, his lavender eyes flickering. "You must pay for this!"

But the man just cocked his head. "Your honor will always prevent you from achieving your goals. You cannot make me pay for anything. Go home Dorian."

He turned around, flicking his sword, the blood of his mother against the temple of the moon goodness as Dorian screamed in anguish his voice breaking.

"Elias," he screamed, his face to the moon. He stayed for a while, until eventually, his eyes went dim. He stood, in the silence, carrying his family from the middle of the temple, silently digging graves for them.

His mothers hand trembled as she reached up, touching his cheek.

"Shh...Dorian. My sweet boy don't cry."

He held his tears, stubbornly, trying to heed her. "I'm sorry. I should've done more. I should've known better."

She just smiled. "It's not your fault. It's mine. You're just a boy. Now...you don't let this turn you, okay? Keep being good. Keep being honorable. Go home. Raise the pack—"

"He's taken everything! He's ruined everything I can't..." his voice fizzled out.

His mothers hand fell as she went silent before trying again. "You are such a good child, Dorian. Keep being good. Keep being you–"

"Stop saying that. Why won't your wounds heal? Mother? Marion? Please heal," he held them closer, shaking.

As if he hadn't seen the silver. As if he didn't know.

"Keep being good," she whispered. "Please keep being good."

He shuddered. "Good. Look where goodness has gotten us. If I had not stuck to my honor...if I had fought him. If I had won!"

"Keep being..."

She went limp. Dorian stared out at the ruins. At the bloodshed. Keep being good. That's all she wanted from him, the woman who had painstakingly raised him all those years, for him to keep being good.

He laid them down, and mindlessly strayed to a nice, empty spot, beginning to dig. His fingers bled, in the silence but he kept digging even as the sun came up.

When he'd finished, he carried his mother and his sister, laying them side by side in the grave, the dirt mingled with his blood. He stared at them for a moment. Their lifeless eyes, no longer lavender.

And then he shoveled the dirt onto them. Covering their faces, covering those lifeless eyes, burying them with his own two hands, until nothing of them but their blood on the ground remained in sight.

Be good. Keep being good. That's all his mother has asked. His sister did not get a request. What a violent end. And he had done nothing. He could accomplish nothing.

Dorian stared at his hands. Keep being good. It was what she wanted and yet, why was he so sure he would not be able to keep that promise?