Chapter V

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Am I dead? Or am I still here? Has Lupan shown me mercy? Or is he going to slowly torture me until I finally die of agony? All of these thoughts went through me as the wolf still had its filthy maw around my neck.

I'm not dead. I know that now. But why? How am I not dead? Lupan slowly backs away from me. He is staring at something. My hood. Why would he be staring at my hood? That's when the flashback came. Back to the first time Lupan tried to kill me.

He just stared at me. He was ready to attack, but he didn't. Why wouldn't he kill me? He whispered those horrible words, and turned and ran off.

My mind switched to an older flashback.

"What happened next?" I ask my mom. "The first pig died in his house made of straw. Lupan then moved on to the second pig's house. He blew it down, and all the sticks that made up his house collapsed on top of him. That is how the second pig died."
"Why are you telling me this? This is a sad story!" I had told her.
"You asked about Lupan, and I'm going to tell you. Anyway, Lupan came to the third pig's house. This one was made of bricks. He could've easily blown this one down, but there was something special about it. Lupan blew it down with ease. But the pig did not die. He had a special cloak he called the Aegis. He had named it after the goddess Athena's sheild. It kept him alive. He passed it down for many generations until it fell into the hands of a witch. This witch lived for years. She is still alive today, actually. She still has the cloak, and she is still waiting to pass it down to someone she truly believes in."
I looked down at my cloak. Was this the cloak from mother's story? It didn't seem likely, but neither did the fact that the wolf seemed scared of it. I find myself running. Running as fast as I can. Running even as I come to the edge of the forest. I only stop when I come to the edge of the cliff. But I'm running with so much momentum right now that it's hard to stop. Then I trip and fall off the cliff and free-fall to the ground, 200 feet below me.

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