Evan I, Dread King - The Werewolf

14 Neth 4711


"Behold! This statue is raised in honor of our fallen King, may his exploits never be forgotten!"

The girl runs to touch the hand. “He’s so pale, is he well?”

“He’s dying,” says the man near the statue.

“Where are they?”

“They’ve gone to bait the foul monster upon themselves. The beast most vile that was killing our people.”

“So they dress as shepherds, and wait in a vale with the shepherd's charges. Hounds amongst the Flock.”

They bide the two soldiers that accompany them to hide, so that the beast can’t harm them.”.

“They wait. Our King is furious: he wants vengeance on this monster that has touched his citizens. He’s so furious that the grass dries out, the shadows skitter away and hide around the corners. Even the Moon hesitates as to whether she should take a step further along her path”.

“Soon enough, the beast arrives. It’s but a shadow in the distancet, and then, all of a sudden, he’s there in front of them, jumping at them, mouth full of blood and teeth!”

“Our King’s fury is such that his eyes regurgitate power; his body glows the dark red of Abyssal might. The sheep’s blood curdles and their wool falls: the animals don’t even notice the werewolf… they fall to the ground and pretend they’re dead. The grass retreats into the ground. A wind raises: the air itself has fled this place. The Baron is ready to make the beast taste the wrath that is its due. But Clovis steps forward and enters a duel with the monster. Reason against pure predatory instinct.”

“What’s a duel?”

“Single combat. He knows that the Lord will not interrupt it. He’ll leave him to fight the beast alone, he’ll respect the wish of his friend to fight. And so, with eyes of live coals, he watches them fight.”

“And why would Clovis do that?”

“Because he wants to tame the beast, with the flat of his sword. He knows that he can tame the monster without killing it. Because he’s merciful. And he wants to bring the monster to the Justice of the Six Rivers. He knows that if the beast meets the fury of the King, it’ll be dead before it can exhale.”

“But the beast is vile, and stupid, and does not recognise his saviour. As it’s killed two of our compatriots, he turns to Clovis with a snarl and attacks in the most vicious way.

Clovis goes to great lengths to only bruise, which proves hard, for the monster is jumping around like a devil. Eventually the animal finds an opening in a gesture of the counsellor, and reaches out to break his arm. The arm twists, Clovis lets go of his sword. The beast slashes at the councillor. Flesh is torn apart, bones are notched, a river of blood fills the ground”

“Like in the statue!” screams the child.

The girl has gone pale: she grips the hand of the statue.

“Indeed! Merciful Clovis lies on the ground, and the Monster has just killed the one who tried to save him from the horror that is the fury of the King”.

“The men come out of the hiding. They are mad with pain, disrupted at the sight of the vileness. They are no more afraid of the Monster. One takes the body of Clovis away from the battlefield. Another even unsheathes his sword and attacks the animal!”

“But the soldier hasn’t even touched his sword, when a worse fate befalls the beast. Our Lord is falling on him, like a thousand demons, like a ton of bricks. Like fate itself running its course. With the first blow, the monster is broken like an egg and blown away: each and every bone of his body cracks with a violent snap; for every citizen he’s killed he feels the pain of a thousand hells. His eyes fly out of their orbits, its teeth explode out of its mouth, its bowels fly over the whole plain behind it. Before it even touches the ground, the monster wishes it was never born.”

The whole crowd cheers.

“The King didn’t kill it though. The monster is on the ground and it’s crawling like a worm, blood and flesh as much laying on the ground around it as attached to its quivering body. It’s trying to escape; the baron has stayed his hand and his fury.”

“Why did he do that?!” screams a man from behind

“To respect the will of his dying friend. He wanted the monster alive, to be brought to Justice. Even from beyond the grave, the hand of merciful Clovis has spared the life of the creature”.

“And so our Baron takes the beast and chains it, and goes to his fallen friend. Clovis knows he’s dying, and what are his last words? “Take care of our Citizens”. He’s resisted death that long to leave that last message to our King. As the words cut his teeth, he passes out”.

The girl is crying now, silently, as she watches the bard.

“But death itself hasn’t taken the fury of our King into account! With but a side glance, our king make the slashes on Clovis’ body run in fear: they slither away like serpents, fall on the grass and hide themselves under the soil, daring not a glance. With a single gesture, the King grabs the spirits of death, already crowding round merciful Clovis, and throws their grasping forms in the Abyss, which eats them whole. The stars have stopped their course and watch the Dread King, trembling. The moon cannot continue on its path out of fear.”

“It’s true! The stars seemed to tremble that night” screams a child. The bard nods.

“Merciful Clovis is alive. He opens his eyes and what are his first words? “Relent, milord, do you want the Moon to be frozen there for the next year? What will the farmers do without her? The fishermen? The miners?”

“That’s what he says.”

“And so the King is appeased by his friend’s quips. The sky returns ever so hesitantly to its nightly path. And the Dread King, Clovis and the men come back to celebrate, with the chained beast as cartload behind.”