Embrace of Fur and Flesh

Prologue

This is only the beginning so bare with me, please. I will be writing more soon it's short because it's the prologue, but the other chapters will be longer.

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~~~~~~~~~{Prologue}~~~~~~~~~

The moonlight was filmy splaying a crossed the sky in a moonlight façade as it twinkled and sparkled ominously like magic. A darkness brewed its way around him, but he was intangible to the force. He grabbed at his talisman made of St. John's wort, it was to deliver him of the Fae's influence.

A circle of shadow wearing persons in large cloaks chanted ritualistically around him. Their voices were angry, enticing, and rhythmically tuned as he began to feel a queer tingling that shot up his spine in a torrent of powerful waves. He'd never felt anything like this before.

The Thirteen stood around the stones and chanted angrily seeking council and wisdom. Waves upon waves of angry green magic tumbled its way into the thirteen, ancient pillared stones. The stones seemed to shiver and cower to their magic.

Boyster Hay felt the combined power of The Thirteen and he wished he wold not. It was like a rippling vibration washed over him in ways no mortal could touch and just as he began to realize what their power was doing. His talisman was lifted from his neck involuntarily, green magic shifted its way as The Thirteen chanted and called and recited in Gaelic.

The talisman began to glow a green that became brighter and brighter with each word The Thirteen Druids spoke. One of The Thirteen to his north was grasping in their possession a set of stag horns that was impressive to gaze at, yet they waved the antlers in precise movements around their body weaving green magic serpentine-like.

Behind him stood another Druid with a pet raven that was made to fly in twists and turns about the circle. It would come back to the person and settle in front of them. The raven seemed as if he was glowing green too, this made Boyster Hay paralyzingly frightened.

Two other Druids held other objects in their hands. The one to his east held an herb of some kind, and the one to his west held a branch. The Druid to the west wove the green magic coming off the branch into what seemed to be a Celtic Knot. The one to the East he was not sure but he thought it might be something of like the old Runes, yet did not allow himself more of a glance for fear of being more under their spell.

The magic finally cracked the talisman in half and the St. John's Wort, that was wrapped around the wood, fell to the ground and abruptly burst into green flames. It quickly burned and was put out, leaving no ashes or burnings of the earth. This made Boyster a bit more than just scared, it petrified him and he did not know how to handle what was happening.

The Thirteen kept chanting and burst of color erupted from the stones as each stone seeped the green magic as it swirled connecting each stone spiritually. Magic filled and seeped over to the next stone creating a secondary dimension to a world unseen and long forgotten by most men. The portal finally collapsed allowing foreign beings to exit it.

Seven powerful beings exited the portal each more impressive in power than the rest before. Raw power slashed and ripped through the air like lightening striking everything in its path. They seemed different and similar all the same.

They had eyes that were green and some an odd violet that struck with piercing alertness. They wore white robes that were held by a belt silver or gold chain indicating rank, no sign of age had touched them and no clothing covered their abdomens. The only white cloth that covered them came up around their waist, it covered scantly anything. The cloth was a white silk and rippled up one side leaving the other side up to mid-thigh untouched by the garment.

A female stood through who seemed to be the queen. The only way he knew this was the indication on her head on a vine wreath. She looked quite young, but her power felt ancient and angry. She held her head regally and looked at him with contempt and disgust as if he were a maggot to be squashed.

"Boyster Hay," Her voice boomed as she scowled making Boyster shiver under the rising pressure of power, "We are the Tuatha Dé Danann and I am Queen Neirfiftria, we are Fae and we have been summoned this day to punish the guilty."

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Seventy-four years later- The Peace Circle

He laid his face in his hands and tried to control the overwhelming baser urges that started to take over. Fear trickled into his broad, large muscular body rendering him completely incapable of breathing in air as a normal organism. He felt inhuman and had not a clue to what was happening in his sixteen year old body. A stab of increasing fluctuations found their way to his scull as the pressure and sank into one side and protruded out from the other. "Keep yourself together, my son," said his father encouraging him on further.

A sharp and sounding crack, snap came from somewhere out from the subconscious of his mind. He moaned and huddled closer in the fetal position, yet he no longer felt it as a safe and reassuring embrace of warmth and flesh but a fortitude of a blistering inferno, a fire that was unquenchable and dissatisfied.

Two more resounding snaps broke out into the atmosphere and he howled gutturally in pain. He writhed on the ground panting, trying to gulp in air but could not do so. God! He was choking! He could not breath! He thought as he absently went to his knees. Wet, slick popping and cracking noises rang out of his skeletal structure as gutter sounds whimpered from his dry bloodied lips; he attempted to suppress them but with not any avail. His breathing was limited, unstable as he harshly and weakly attempted to suck in at least some air.

He moved then to all fours with such force he did not know how to stop his weakened body from bouncing his head off the ground. His head now bled and the fever radiated at all proximities of his body, but the breaking, thickening, and elongating of bones and tissues was so excruciating it was made him almost pass out unconscious to the world around.

He absently registered the pain now, and even though it was excruciating he never noticed it as he screamed his horror as skin melted away turning into fur. His screams became yips, howls, and whimpering.....there was no escape now, no escape from his destiny to lead the pack as Alpha and Laird of the clan...how much he hated it. How much he wished against it.