Shadow Bands

V. Albedo

 A golden field swayed like the sea, with the sun beaming through the clouds. The air crisp with cold—a slight burn in the lungs if inhaled deep enough. In the distance, beyond the mountains, they saw a column of smoke rising, visible for hundreds of miles. The sound of horns echoed through the valley, rearing heads up from the fields. Kaelan stood steadfast, bearing his twin blades. He saw warriors rushing out through the fields in his direction. Some remain in their human form while others were in their true form, a werewolf. Kaelan ran with them through the gates that lead to a castle.

From the gate to the castle stood a bridge that was suspended over a chasm with rushing waters at the bottom.

One way in. One way out.

A grand waterfall, plunging into a castle pool, distributed water to everyone through canals and mills. The old water was getting channeled out through a water system, allowing it to flow off the edge and into the chasm.

At the center of the kingdom, where a large pool of running water lay, were the bustling streets filled with people almost like a festival. Vendors lined the outside of the pool, selling all sorts of goods. From there, the gray buildings that shaped the giant city conformed to the circular shape of the pool, expanding outward until it reached the rocks of the mountain. The mountain formed a natural wall around the kingdom.

This is the Kingdom of Lycra.

Kaelen marched with the other Lycans, but in his human form, following them past the pool of water and to the garrison within the inner castle walls. The garrison building started as a long hall, lined with werewolf-shaped pillars constituting a strength. This was supposed to inspire those who passed them. Sunlight trickled in through the tall open windows between each statue.

Wooden grand doors, opened by the guards who stood in front of them, had carvings. History of their kind on one door and the tales of their god on the other.

The generals had gathered in the war room, all in their wolf form. One of them being Kaelen's father, Knhaul, a seasoned soldier of war and the most respected. His father wore his armor in his wolf form, a faint hint of gold in the metal. The armor covered his body, stopping at the pauldrons and the cuisses, leaving the arms and legs exposed, becoming a normal tradition of wearing wolf armor. Thin banners with the kingdom insignia hung from the corner of his pauldrons. This was a common accessory for generals, as the other generals had them too.

The soldiers formed ranks around the table in the wide space provided. There were steps leading down to the table, conforming to the room's shape. Flames were alight on the sconces hanging by the pillars, and large braziers lined against the wall opposite to the door, almost dimmed by the sunlight beaming through the open windows.

Every general had their second beside them as Kaelen approached his father last.

"You're late, boy." His voice, low and expecting.

Kaelen knew better than to open his mouth, so he bowed his head in forgiveness, but his father dismissed it.

"Let the council begin!" An old voice spoke.

A silence fell over the room. Only the crackling of flames and the occasional shift in armor were heard.

"The fortress in the Northeast of our borders is ablaze." One general moved wooden figures to locations on the map. His armor was silver. "Shortly after, the same fate doomed fortresses along the borders between the Overworld and the Underworld."

"It is safe to assume that their armistice is no longer," said another general. Their armor was a fiery red. "Our time of peace will also come to an end."

"We should have attacked while they were at their lowest!" A general yelled, slamming his fist onto the hard table. Their armor had a purple hue to the light.