The Song Of The Wolf (Edited & Rewritten)

Prologue

The Song Of The Wolf, written by Pien Pouwels.

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Thousands of years ago, nestled in the bosom of ancient Greece, lay a land called Arcadia. During a time when gods stepped down from mount Olympus to indulge in human delights, King Lycaon had his reign.

He introduced high levels of culture and civilisation to the realm. From science to religion, philosophy and the arts. People from all walks of life gathered at the temples, bathhouses, theatres and stadiums; in the bustling stoas and marketplaces, to trade goods and ideas.

King Lycaon's rule was marked by a staunch approach to governance. He issued decrees and enforced the worship of Zeus as the supreme deity, to ensure religious uniformity. He represented a period of great intellectual and artistic achievement. Yet, also one of controversial rule, where cultural splendour came hand in hand with the imposition of ideology.

As the kingdom basked in milk and honey, dark clouds gathered on the horizon. Weeds sprouted from the king's hunger for more. He conquered many neighbouring lands, expanding his borders and amassing unimaginable riches. Countless women fell victim to his lust and his bloodline began to take shape. Twelve sons and a multitude of daughters, born of his escapades.

The commoners, who had once revered their king, now regarded him and his offspring with apprehension. The twelve young princes, driven by hormones and rotten by a privileged upbringing, became unhinged. Their whims were indulged without question, their antics left unchallenged.

The fate of the realm hung precariously, teetering on the edge of chaos, as the spoils of greed threatened to overshadow the brilliance that once illuminated. The king began to neglect the care of his people, which even the gods took notice of.

Zeus himself decided to put Lycaon's character to trial. He dressed in the rags of a poor peasant and travelled down to the Arcadian palace, begging for food and shelter. Lycaon, cunning as a fox, saw through the ruse and welcomed his guest with a facade of generosity. But he did not take kindly to being tricked, not even by the supreme god. The king and his eleven eldest sons hatched a plan that would test the very fabric of fate. They plotted to sacrifice the youngest of the brood and serve his corpse as a dish, dressed to resemble a spit-roasted boar.

The moment the platter was paraded into the great hall, his all-seeing eye penetrated the veil of falsehood and the heavens responded in kind, unleashing thunder and lightning. The audacity of mere mortals, daring to mock the divine arbiter was an affront to the very essence of celestial balance. Such transgressions would not go unanswered.

Zeus cursed Lycaon and his sons, contorting their bodies into beasts –nightmarish wolves destined to roam the earth.

In the aftermath, the king of gods resurrected the once-sacrificed son, now a grown man, and proclaimed him the monarch of Arcadia. As he assumed his role, it became apparent that the laws of nature had been disrupted. The transition from death to life, and from infancy to adulthood had warped and twisted the young man's soul. Fuelled by the enduring grudge against his father and brothers, he condemned them to death, with the intention to offer their flesh to the very god who had cursed them.