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Eli was in his bed, dreaming

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Eli was in his bed, dreaming. Not having a nightmare. At least he hope he doesn't get one. The last thing he needs is to wolf out like last time.

But... something else is about this dream.

He's in Arcadia

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He's in Arcadia.

According to Greek mythology, Arcadia of Peloponnesus was the domain of Pan, a virgin wilderness home to the god of the forest and his court of dryads, nymphs and other spirits of nature. It was one version of paradise, though only in the sense of being the abode of supernatural entities, not an afterlife for deceased mortals.

In the 3rd century BCE the Greek poet Theocritus wrote idealised views of the lives of peasants in Arcadia for his fellow educated inhabitants of the squalid and disease-ridden city of Alexandria.

Greek mythology and the poetry of Theocritus inspired the Roman poet Virgil to write his Eclogues, a series of poems with references to Arcadia as the home of Pan, pipes and singing.

Eli wonders if his ancestor is gonna meet him here. After all, this is where he was born and where his life ended and began again. As one of the first lycans. Hopefully he can tell Eli what he must do.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Eli doesn't recognized that voice. And as he turns around, he's greeted by a tall man with black hair and brown eyes, wearing the same outfit the Greeks of old wore. Eli doesn't recognize him.

At first.

"It was practically paradise. Under my rule though, it all nearly went to shit."

Eli's eyes widen as he already realized who this was. One of the few worst monsters in history and he just happens to be related to him.

The Genesis and King of the lycan race.

The alpha of alphas.

He was and still is death wherever he goes.

He.

Is.

Lycaon.

And Eli can assume he has a witch helping Lycaon connect with descendent. "By the look on your face, you've already figured out who I was. Good. I won't have to explain it to you."

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