Chapter 9: Werewolves can be Cute

Unless you lack all measure of intelligence, you will be able to deduce where this travesty is heading. The Tarrus Empire was becoming most irked at my family’s recalcitrant ways. The Lurranna family had amassed quite the reputation for themselves, even before my days in power.

Now we enter a portion of our story that happened many, many years before you were born. I was betrothed to my sister by our parents when I was very young, but I found her lacking in the necessary strength for producing a viable heir. So I absolved our engagement by killing our parents and decided to wait until a more powerful wife could be found. Needless to say, it took me several centuries to choose a proper mate. I was still in my prime, and I would not settle for any but the most worthy mate ... the most ruthless Lurranna woman I could find. After most women in the Lurranna Clan failed to meet my expectations, I finally found relief when I met your mother. Lorraine was the perfect Lurranna. Beautiful. Intelligent. Merciless. She came to prominence in our clan after completing several dangerous missions on her own, but I only took notice of her after she attempted to assassinate me ... and came much closer to succeeding than most. She only recently attained immortality when I took her, but she was the only one whose skills were near comparable to my own. I did have to subdue her rather violently when she thought to challenge me for leadership of the clan, but defeating her only enticed her further, and ensured her absolute loyalty to me. She later told me that she was hoping to gain my affections through the assassination attempt, but that she would not suffer a husband weaker than herself ... that if I had failed to defeat her, she would’ve slain me and spent the rest of her days unmarried. Like I said, the perfect Lurranna. She did show a softer side of herself when you were born, but that often happens among Lurranna women when they bear children.

After our marriage, we decided to wait a while before bearing an heir. We wanted to be closer to our goals of universal conquest so that we could hand our Empire over to you at the zenith of our power. But besides the less immediate need for an heir, I had other concerns. With our list of allies dwindling and the Elemental Ministries hounding us at every turn, I decided that drastic steps were needed to ensure our family’s survival. That was when I started hearing rumors about him. In recent years, there had been tales of a strange creature amassing armies in the outer territories. Information on this creature was sketchy at best, but rumor had it that he possessed some kind of dark power that sounded very similar to Mysticism. Since the Lurrannas were the only Mystics at the time with knowledge of Shadow Elemency, the tales of this creature intrigued me, so much so that he soon became my obsession. Although I was never given a name for this mysterious shadow user, I was able to unearth a title. They called him the Desolate One.

Cornelius Humphrey was having a nightmare. The space pirate woke up in a sweat while breathing heavily. An immense feeling of pain and fear suddenly washed over him as he sensed the presence of something sinister in his chambers. It was one of the few nights that the man was unaccompanied by a wench, an unfortunate oversight in Humphrey’s otherwise stainless reputation as a frequent womanizer. However, there would be no time for lovemaking tonight. In fact, Humphrey was suddenly overwhelmed with the sensation that he would not live to see the sunrise.

As Cornelius Humphrey sat in his bed, he felt an intense pain in his chest, causing him to instinctually clutch his breast in a desperate attempt to abate the agony. It was a feeling like no other, more acute and frightening than most torments he could remember, and he could remember quite a few from his days as a Mystic. It was as if someone had forced their hand into his chest and squeezed his heart, their grip growing tighter with every second.

Through the panting, sweat, and tears, Cornelius looked down to confirm if it were true, if someone really was crushing his heart from the inside out. What he found was much worse. At first glance, it looked as if a symbol was being carved into his chest by an invisible hand. As the shape came into focus, Cornelius realized in horror that he had seen this symbol somewhere before. It was the symbol of the Eternal Coalition, a mysterious organization that had begun funding all the secret sects of Mystics operating in the Tarrus Empire.

And thus, Cornelius Humphrey could only watch in helpless horror as the demonic symbol was emblazoned into his very skin by an unseen adversary. When the spell had done its work, Cornelius was left with a huge bloody gash on his chest in the shape of curved scissors. The pain subsided for a moment, but the night’s events did not end there.

“The call has been given,” whispered a voice that was so inhumanly high-pitched and scratchy at the same time, it made the skin crawl.

Cornelius traced the source of the voice to find a man hovering at the end of his bed. This man, who Cornelius knew couldn’t really be a man, was garbed in a tattered red cape and wore a white smiling opera mask.

“The defector must return to his defected. Journey to the Cyan Nebula on peril of your soul,” hissed the man that wasn’t really a man before vanishing in a puff of black smoke.

“Oh, come on! Are you still mad?” asked Torsha from behind Ryan as the boy strode forward indignantly, his arms swinging wildly at his sides. “I thought guys like you had a sense of humor.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay,” said Ryan, too embarrassed to face Torsha due to his purple-blushing tendency.

Ryan still remembered the sensation of free-falling through midair. It was just as terrifying as the day that he barely managed to save Éclair from falling off a cliff. The wind whipping through his hair, the sight of the ground getting closer and closer with each passing second. Out of panic, Ryan grabbed hold of the only thing within reach, namely Torsha.

However, the crafty Werewolf sent something soaring from her hand, something that looked like a blue glob of jello. The blue ball of goo zipped through the air as if propelled by jet engines until it hit the pavement below and expanded into a giant cushion of goo, softening their fall. As Torsha and Ryan landed within the blob of goo, Ryan was struck with the sensation of something soft in his hand. It felt round and squishy, but it wasn’t the goo that they had landed in. Because of the trauma of a near-death experience, Ryan held tightly to the squishy thingy, unknowingly committing an egregious transgression in ethics.

Horror soon struck as Torsha let out a girlie squeal. Then she said with a nervous chuckle, “Not what I had in mind, but ... consider yourself reprimanded ... I guess.”

Back in the present, Torsha tried to console the inconsolable Ryan with little success. “Don’t worry about it. You were scared and sought comfort. I understand you didn’t mean anything by it. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed! Who said I was embarrassed?! Are you embarrassed? You should be embarrassed! After all, it was you who jumped out of a stinking cockpit ... thing! And you did it without telling me what you had planned! Plus, I had a bad experience with falling one time, and I don’t like heights in general! But I went on the Ferris Wheel anyways because you suggested it! And I could see you just wanted to cheer me up, so I was trying to be nice! But then you ... then I ... then we ... touch ... squishy ... round ... Racka fracka shaka wacka!” Ryan sometimes made-up words when flustered. No doubt he was turning the deepest shade of purple that he ever changed into in his life.

“Wow. Talk about being a cherry boy. You really don’t have any experience with girls, do you?” Torsha said with a merciless giggle.

“I am NOT having this conversation with you,” said Ryan through gritted teeth as he increased his pace.

“Why?” asked Torsha, almost panting as she struggled to keep up. “Is it weird ‘cause I’m a Werewolf? I may have fur, but I’m still a girl! You have scales for crying out loud!”

“No, it’s not that!” cried Ryan, hoping that Torsha wouldn’t get the wrong idea. “I don’t think of you as less than a girl. In fact, I think you’re very pretty, even with fur and stuff. But ... it’s ... just ... that ... I don’t wanna talk about this stuff!”

“So you do think I’m attractive!” exclaimed Torsha with unbridled glee, clearly enjoying this conversation too much.

“I didn’t say that,” Ryan objected as he adjusted his sweaty collar, feeling as if steam was literally fuming out of his ears.

“That’s the only reason you’d be embarrassed ... because a part of you liked it!”

“Hmmmmmm!” was all Ryan managed to get out. Sometimes, Ryan made noises in place of words to express his feelings. This particular noise conveyed intense bashfulness.

Torsha giggled again. “Cherry boy.”

“Stop calling me that!” Ryan realized he was yelling now, drawing the stares of several passersby, but in his agitated state, he could neither help it nor care.

Man! Now I know what Éclair feels like after dealing with someone as obnoxious as me! Seriously, Torsha’s antics put all my pranks to shame!

After an excruciatingly awkward journey, the pair finally made it to their destination; the metal room where Ryan had first attempted his lava training.

“Good! We’re here,” said Torsha breathlessly. “Now, I think it’s time you came clean with whatever you’ve got bottling up inside you.”

“Alright, fine,” said Ryan with a sigh, knowing that he could never live with himself unless he got this off his chest. “Even though it was technically your fault, I just wanted to say sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose, but I admit that there was a weird feeling that could be described as ... pleasure. So from the bottom of my heart, I want to say that I am deeply sorry for grabbing your...”

Ryan lost his train of thought as he tried to think of a reasonable term to describe the body parts in question. Okay, she’s a girl, but she’s not exactly a human girl. So would I call them the same thing as I would a normal girl’s? Or would I call them something like ... I don’t know ... udders maybe? No, that’s for cows! Ah, man! This is so awkward!

“Ryan,” said Torsha suddenly, cutting him off from his train of thought. “We can deal with your pervy habits later. Right now, there are much bigger things haunting your psyche.”

“Pervy habits!” repeated Ryan indignantly. “Well, yeah, sure, I’m a guy! An adolescent becoming more aware of ... stuff. What growing boy isn’t? But I don’t see how-”

“Ryan!” said Torsha more forcibly.

“Right! Off topic!”

Torsha sighed and suddenly drew closer to Ryan. He almost backed away, but something told him to hold his ground. For some reason, the more time he spent with Torsha, the more he became aware of her womanly features. It was strange being attracted to someone with the face of a dog, however, most of her features were so girl-like that there was really not much distinction. And besides, Ryan was covered in golden scales, so he was far from being narrow-minded in terms of sensuality.