canisaries
you should've known the price of evil
hey there! this is a new original project ive been working on for a while. so far ive only written a pilot chapter because it would have taken years to get anything out if i made myself plan out the whole thing before writing. the purpose of this "pilot" is what youre probably thinking of when you hear that word - i wanted to test out the concept before committing to it.
i would rate this story as mature due to the gore. its hard to say what else there will be in the story since so much of it hasnt yet been planned, but i think there may also be toxic relationship dynamics and forms of bigotry like sexism and homophobia (and definitely fantasy racism, but that one probably doesnt hit as hard when the parties involved are animal people not identifiable as any particular group).
i think thats about what i want to say. find some character art before the summary, and the pilot after the summary. thanks for reading, and extra thanks if you find the time to leave any kind of feedback. cheers!
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Sheepskin
Synopsis:
A young sheepwoman witch, Eliza, is gathering ingredients for potions at night when she is brutally murdered by a wolfman from a newly arrived pack. Instead of finding herself in the afterlife, she awakens as a ghost, tied to the wolf by an unknown power and unable to leave him. An unlikely pair, the two of them must work together to free themselves from each other - if such a thing is even possible.
Genre:
Fantasy
Status:
Ongoing
Length:
TBD
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CHAPTER ONE
Pilot
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The night was serene. The waxing moon glowed in the dark, clear sky, surrounded by hundreds of twinkling stars. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the birches that encircled the meadow. As one could gather from the mild temperature of the air, autumn was still some weeks away.
As tranquil as it was, however, Eliza felt a little anxious. She knew the Protector’s blessing kept ravenous beasts away from the village and its vicinity, sure, but her primal instincts still told her it wasn’t safe. A reminder that her kind had once been mere beasts, four-legged sheep without hands or bountiful wool.
Still, her determination overruled her unease. She only had to do three more tests before she could let herself call it a night. Agniya had told her to let go and turn in already, but she’d refused. She was sure the next batch would be the one. She only needed a handful of elderberries - though now that she was making this trip, she thought she might as well get enough for later, which is why she’d brought her basket.
She kept walking along the vague path that split the tall grass. This way was to the creek where elderberry shrubs grew. Momentarily, she reflected on how well she knew this area and felt a little proud. The countless hours foraging for herbs, flowers and berries had provided her with more than just ingredients. Then again… this was exactly how familiar a witch should have been with her environment. Maybe she didn’t get to feel proud.
A caw and the flapping of wings split the air, making Eliza flinch. No, he thought to herself, just a crow. There was nothing to fear. In fact, she liked crows. She liked all birds. Having one near was only comforting.
Father liked birds, too. When Eliza had been young, Father had regularly taken her out into the woods and taught her the name of every bird they saw or heard. She still remembered the first time she’d seen a pheasant. What a striking head it had had!
Eliza smiled, but the smile quickly wilted away. It had been long since their last walk. She might never get to do it again if he didn’t recover. Certainly not if he perished. Oh, that thought was as scary as always. She couldn’t lose him. She wasn’t ready for that, not yet.
She shook her head, sighing. Worrying did her no good. Finding the cure was what she needed to do.
She pressed on. In a short while, she met the meadow’s edge and continued past the birches. The creek was still some time away. The thought of all the walking she still needed to do before she could get back to work frustrated her. She would’ve liked to turn into an eagle and fly, but she was too drained to use magic so late into the night, and she was rather far from the Protector’s shrine, which would have meant straining herself even more…
Wait. Was she hearing… steps?
She stopped, and the steps continued. They were coming from up ahead, behind the curve in the path.
Who could it be? Who else would have business in the woods in the dead of night? Was it an animal? A deer? It didn’t sound like a deer - too heavy, only one set of steps…
The steps approached, approached, until their owner emerged from behind the trees.
It was not a sheepman. It was a man, but not a sheep. He had no wool, but fur in gray and brown and white. He… he resembled the drawings in one of Agniya’s books. Drawings of ‘wolfmen’.
If you ever meet a wolfman, she remembered Agniya saying, scream.
But Eliza couldn’t scream. Her voice had been stolen from her. All she could do was stare.
The wolfman stared back. His eyes were yellow, unblinking, wild. In his hand, he carried a stone axe, and a large piece of brown hide wrapped around his waist, covering his loins.
A moment passed with neither of them moving. Then another. Yet the wolf’s stare didn’t relent. Some intense emotion burned behind those eyes. Eliza couldn’t tell what.
Another moment later, Eliza felt her voice return. She could have taken the chance to scream… but the curiosity of a witch beget her to try a different approach.
“Hello?” she spoke, softly. “Are you alright?”
Something snapped in the wolfman’s head. His fist clenched around the handle of the axe, and he roared, breaking into a run. The sight of his teeth burned itself into Eliza’s mind before she turned around and fled.
Blood rushed in Eliza’s ears as she ran, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the horrible sound of her pursuer’s steps, gaining on her. She remembered her basket and threw it behind herself, hoping to slow the wolfman down. She had no idea if it worked, and she had no time to start guessing. The only thing on her mind now was escape.
She did not achieve it. The steps came closer and closer until cold stone drove itself into her upper back. The pain, overwhelming, drew a scream from her lungs as she fell. Her body met the ground with a thump. She knew she had to get up, but terror rendered her paralyzed. Moments later, the stone was yanked out of her flesh - she screamed - then rammed in again, taken out, in again, repeating. She felt every impact all throughout her body, felt the cracking of her bones, while her wounds cried pain.
Then, he stopped.
Was it over? Was he leaving? Would she live?
A blow to the base of her skull took away her thoughts.
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Was it done? Was it done? Was she dead? No one could take that kind of blow to the head and live, right?
Kahu’s hands trembled as he placed the axe on the ground and crouched beside the sheepwoman. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing. He reached his hand for the sheepwoman’s neck…
…No, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t conscious, and that was all that mattered. She wouldn’t feel what he was about to do next.
Not that he managed to minimize her pain before. He should have struck the head earlier, right after she’d fallen, but he’d panicked. He’d figured that if he simply kept hacking without stopping to think, she’d die faster.
Stupid, stupid. What an idiot he must have looked like. A pup whacking away with a stick. He was better than that. No, he wasn’t better than that. He’d always been this way. Terrible hunter. No grit, no grace.
No, no! He was strong. He’d killed a sheepman, just like he said he would. The others didn’t have to know how well or how poorly he’d done it, how sick it had made him feel. All he had to do was bring back the head, and it’d speak for itself.
Alright. He’d pull himself together. He knew he didn’t have time to waste - someone else might show up. Someone who could see what he’d done and get away and tell even more sheep, and then he’d have to face a mob.
He picked his axe back up and took a deep breath. He raised the axe and brought it down on the sheepwoman’s neck. The wool muffled the blow, but Kahu still felt the blade sink into the flesh. He shuddered, but pulled it out and struck again. And again, and again.
The moon shifted in the sky as he hacked away. Every now and then, he’d think he’d heard a noise, and stop to listen - but no one ever came. After cleaving the back of the neck, he rolled the body belly-up and continued work on the front. Eventually, he dared to try and twist off the head. He couldn’t manage it at first, but after pausing to get in a few more blows with the axe, he succeeded. The head in his hands, he lay on the ground for a while to catch his breath. The hard part was over.
He got up and transferred the head to his right hand, grasping the wool at the top of the head, and picked up the axe with his left hand. He gave the scene one last look. A headless corpse of a sheepwoman lay in the middle of a path surrounded by tall grass. Sticky blood seeped into the white cloth of her dress. That dress… who had made that dress? Had it been someone close to her? How would they react once they found out about her death? How much would it hurt them?
No, no, it didn’t matter. These were prey people. It didn’t matter what they thought. They were dull-minded, lesser beings. Even if they could make such beautiful dresses. No, it couldn’t be a sign of intellect. It had to just be in their nature, like the way birds made nests and beavers built dams.
Kahu squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. He shouldn’t dwell on it. He should get going.
Finally, following his scent trail had brought him back where he’d come from - the small patch of open ground in the woods that his pack was sleeping in. No one seemed to notice him arriving, all five wolves sleeping soundly on their moose furs.
Kahu walked up to Hopa, his eldest brother, and gently prodded him in the back with his foot. The dark-furred wolf stirred, then rolled over with squinted eyes. As he noticed the disembodied sheep head in Kahu’s hands, his eyes widened and he sat up.
“Kahu?” he whispered in his deep voice. “Is that…”
“Yes,” Kahu said, keeping his voice low. “I did it.”
Hopa stared at the sheep head for a while, incredulous. “I didn’t expect you to actually do it.”
“Well, I did,” Kahu said. “Because I’m not weak. I’m strong.”
Hopa stayed quiet, then got up. He walked two paces to the right to crouch over Veli, the brown-furred second son, and tapped on his shoulder. Veli woke up with a grimace and sat up.
“What?” Veli asked, then saw the sheep head. He gaped, then crawled over to his younger brother, Tino. “Wake up!” he whisper-yelled, shaking the gray-furred wolf, who woke with a yelp. Hopa and Veli shushed him, then glanced over at their father, sleeping a few paces away. The large black wolf rolled in his sleep, but didn’t wake. They all sighed in relief.
Tino got up when he saw the sheep head. He crouched to be level with it and poked it in the nose, then grabbed its jaws to part them, looking into the mouth. Kahu felt a little annoyed that the prize was being prodded at, but said nothing. Tino always did this with their quarry.
“What are you doing?” asked another voice from behind them, female. The brothers looked over to see their pale-furred sister, Nevea, sitting up on her moose fur.
“Kahu went and got the head of a sheepman,” Hopa explained. Kahu turned around to show the sheep head.
Nevea stared for a moment. “I don’t think so,” she then said, shaking her head. “It had to have been a four-legs.”
“No, it’s a two-legs,” Hopa said. “Snout is shorter, forehead is higher, eyes are bigger. No horns, so it must be a female…”
“Would have been harder if it was male,” Veli said.
“Hey,” Kahu snapped. “I still killed a two-legs. That proves I have it in me.”
Veli looked like he was about to argue. Kahu grit his teeth. If he had done this, and they still wouldn’t respect him…
“Yeah, no, I guess it does,” Veli said instead. Kahu sighed. Good.
“You still have to stick to it,” Hopa said, crossing his arms, then looked Kahu in the eyes. “Being able to do it once isn’t enough. If you’re really serious, you’ll never hesitate again.”
Kahu answered the gaze, unwavering. “I won’t.”
But was that true? Could he really always be strong from now on, and never be weak again?
It had to be so. Otherwise… he’d be left behind.
“If it really is a two-legs…” Nevea began. “Then you did something very, very stupid.”
Kahu frowned. “How so?”
“Well, the sheepmen aren’t just gonna let someone kill their own without retribution,” Nevea said. “They’re gonna come after us.”
“They don’t know we’re here,” Kahu argued.
“They know now!” Nevea growled, causing her brothers to shush her. She continued with a lowered voice. “Unless you think they’re stupid enough to think that some wild animal was the one that killed a sheepman and only took the head.”
“Nevea,” Hopa whispered, looking at their father stirring.
This time, however, the black wolf did not stay down. He got up and stomped closer until he saw what Kahu carried in his hands. He was quiet for a while, then bared his teeth.
“Which one of you did that?” Tuonaro shouted in his deep voice, making no effort to keep quiet.
Veli and Tino pointed at Kahu. Kahu felt his heart rate pick up.
“Are you absolutely out of your mind?” Tuonaro growled, closing the distance between them. “What possessed you to do something so idiotic?”
“I…” Kahu’s words stuck in his throat. He hadn’t seen Father this angry in a long time. “I wanted to prove that I was strong.”
“Being strong means nothing if you’re dumb as rocks!” Tuonaro roared. “Now we have to flee these perfectly good lands we just reached, with perfectly good berries and quarry, all because you didn’t think!”
“I’m sorry,” Kahu whined, his heart banging against his breastbone. “I just wanted to --”
“Save it!” Tuonaro’s breathing was heavy. He looked down at the sheep head again, then returned his gaze to Kahu’s eyes. “Go throw that in the pond we passed. Make sure it’s deep. If the sheep catch us carrying that, we’ll lose whatever little chance we have of them not thinking the killing was us.”
Kahu frowned. He would have liked to spend more time with the new proof of his strength. “Okay,” he sighed.
“Good. Get going.” Tuonaro stormed off to his sleeping fur. “We’ll discuss your punishment in the morning.”
“Alright…”
Kahu turned around and headed for the direction of the pond. His ears were pinned against his head, and his tail wanted to tuck itself between his legs. His heart pounded and his stomach twisted, but worst of all, his thoughts screamed at him in unison - stupid, stupid, stupid.
He didn’t hear his pack say anything as he left. At least he could be glad that no one was jeering.
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Eliza awoke to darkness. Darkness and weightlessness.
She looked around, trying to see something, but there was nothing. She looked down and saw her body, despite the darkness. She was white all over, whiter than usual - glowing, glowing with an eerie green tint. Her feet touched no ground, not that she thought there was any here. She was also nude.
This must be a dream, she thought. A strange dream.
Well, if it was a dream and she knew it was a dream, she could control it. Agniya had taught her that, and she’d found it to be true several times before.
She imagined her favorite dress on herself, and it appeared. She imagined ground, and it appeared. Then she imagined… what would she imagine? Oh, yes, she knew.
She shaped with her mind a long-necked bird with brilliantly red, orange and yellow feathers - a firebird. It stood on its thin, long, gray legs, as tall as Eliza yet frozen in place, its impressive tail feathers brushing the ground. Eliza admired it for a while, circling it to view it from different angles, before she willed it to life. It blinked its blue eyes, then began walking, bobbing its head with each step as birds did. It spread its wings and beat them a few times, letting Eliza marvel at its wings. Then it let out a cry, a haunting yet beautiful wail.
Eliza smiled. She cupped her hands and willed sunflower seeds into them, then offered them to the firebird. It leaned in, tilting its head side to side to view the seeds with both its eyes, then pecked at them with its slender, gray beak.
“You’re a pretty bird,” Eliza said as the bird ate. “Yes, you are.”
A light ignited in the distance to Eliza’s right. It was a cold, white light. Before Eliza could hazard a guess as to what it was, it suddenly grew, grew, overtaking the darkness and the bird and Eliza. She closed her eyes with a grunt.
When she saw the light fading through her eyelids, she dared to open her eyes. She was in a misty, moonlit meadow, floating again. Aside from her, there were…
There was a wolfman, and there was her headless corpse, standing upright some thirty paces away.
It all came back to her. Leaving the village in the dead of night, journeying to the elderberry bushes, encountering the wolfman with an axe, attempting to flee, her back screaming pain, falling down, more pain, then nothing. She had died. And this wolfman had killed her.
Eliza couldn’t move. Her heart beat wildly, nothing left of the calmness it had had before. She barely dared to breathe. If he saw her again… what would he do?
Thankfully, his attention seemed to be on the headless corpse. There was a discomforted expression on his face. Eliza gave the corpse a longer look, and felt disturbed as well. She’d seen bodies of animals that had experienced a violent death before - carcasses of hares left behind by foxes, for example - but never sheepmen, or any other type of man, mutilated in this way.
Blood spurted from the corpse’s open neck with a sickening squelch. Eliza winced. The wolfman’s snout wrinkled in disgust. As Eliza thought about it, she found it strange. Wouldn’t a violent killer like him feel nothing at a sight like this? Perhaps even enjoy it?
He then opened his mouth to speak. What came out was a sentence in a foreign language - but Eliza understood it.
“How are you standing? You’re dead,” the wolfman said.
Eliza blinked, confused. How could she understand him? She’d never heard those words before. The only language she’d heard that wasn’t hers was that of a traveling pigman come to exchange wares in her village several years ago. It hadn’t even sounded like what the wolfman had just spoken.
The corpse, in response, suddenly bent backwards and trembled, as if having some attack of illness. More blood leaked from the neck, dripping down onto the grass below and painting it red. The body shook harder by the moment, beginning to convulse, yet somehow still kept its balance. Muffled crackling arose from somewhere within, like bones breaking, and then --
From the neck erupted long, gangly appendages, which bent their many joints to touch the ground. They were furred with overgrown hooves at their tips and, through their sticky red coating, appeared to be white.
Eliza covered her mouth. She’d never seen anything as wrong as this. She looked to the wolfman and saw the same horror on his face as he stumbled backwards.
But that had been a mistake.
The creature screeched and began to crawl towards them, all too fast. The wolfman turned around and ran. Eliza fled, too, though by floating - she’d done something like this in prior dreams - dreams!
That’s right, it was a dream. A nightmare, as things stood now, but a dream nonetheless. She quickly floated up high, away from the terror’s reach, and watched from above.
The creature screeched again as it gained on the wolfman whose panting could be heard as high as Eliza was. He was afraid, clearly. Eliza felt… glad.
Yes, the man who’d killed her was afraid. He might soon be in pain, too, depending on what the creature actually did once it caught its prey. This felt right. He should suffer. He should know what it was like to be afraid for one’s life and meet a gruesome end.
Carefully, Eliza floated closer. She wanted to see it. She wanted to see justice realized.
It took only moments more for the creature to reach the wolf. It struck him in the back with the bottom of a hoof, causing him to lose his balance and fall. While the wolfman tried to scramble up to his feet, two more appendages slid out from the corpse-body’s neck - one with a monstrous hand of three talon-tipped fingers, and one with a sharp, bony blade. As soon as the wolfman was upright again, the hand caught his neck in a strangling grip and raised him off the ground. The wolf gargled as he flailed his legs and tried fruitlessly to pry his neck free with his hands. The hand turned him around while the bladed arm craned back, taking its aim. The wolf’s eyes bulged from his skull as he realized what was to come.
Eliza held her breath. Did she want to see this after all…?
She didn’t get to wonder for much longer as the creature thrust its blade through the wolfman.
The world changed.
The creature was gone, and so was the wolfman. No - he was on the ground, sitting up on the fur of some animal, gasping for air. Around them were several other wolves sleeping on their own furs, and around those were trees, birches. In the middle was a fire pit, long since gone out.
He’d woken up. It hadn’t been Eliza’s dream - it had been the wolfman’s.
Eliza watched in silence as the wolfman’s breathing gradually calmed. Heart pounding, she waited for him to see her, but he didn’t. She must have been invisible to him.
Eventually, the wolfman lay back down and closed his eyes. Eliza sighed silently. Could she try to leave now…?
She slowly floated away from the wolves. She would have to make it to an opening to better observe the stars. She could figure out which way was which from them. Since she’d been west of the village when she was killed, which was the direction the wolf had also come from, she would have to head eastward. Then she would… hold on, what was happening?
Eliza had made it perhaps ten paces from the wolf when advancing suddenly became harder. She had to strain to keep floating, more and more as she pressed on. It was as if there was a force pulling her back, one that grew stronger the further she got. Eventually, it became too strong to overpower. She let go, bounding back, almost yelping in surprise at the strength of the yank.
She looked behind herself. She must have gotten twenty paces from the wolfman at the farthest.
While she suspected that another attempt would end up going the exact same way, she tried anyway. Her suspicion was correct - she couldn’t make it any further. Okay. It seemed like she wasn’t going anywhere.
But why was that? Why couldn’t she leave? And what was she, anyway? What had happened after she’d died?
Well, if she’d died, and she was here now, she was clearly some sort of ghost. A ghost being able to visit someone’s dreams made sense, too. But her being a ghost didn’t explain why she couldn’t leave. Had something… bound her to her killer somehow?
She hadn’t heard about anything like this from Agniya, but Agniya hadn’t had that much knowledge about ghosts to impart, anyway. Eliza only knew that ghosts were sometimes created when a person died while experiencing strong emotions or having an unfinished task. She supposed she had both - the terror of being murdered, and the task of finding elderberries, or more generally the task of finding a cure for her father.
Oh, no. Her father. Her family. How would they react when someone found her headless corpse and told them? Would Father’s heart be able to take it? Would Mother go to war with the wolfmen? She would be killed! Then who would Father have left?
No, Eliza had to find a way to speak to them. Let them know that she was alive - in a way, at least. Tell Mother not to literally throw herself to the wolves.
And perhaps… perhaps Agniya did know something that would help Eliza out. If not her, the Protector. Though would the Protector want to help her? The Protector had made it clear that she would not bring back the dead, or even heal the sick. That it would go against the natural order. Eliza’s heart ached as she remembered that conversation… well, maybe she should simply be glad that she could still feel her heart as a ghost.
So what would she do now? Would she… wake up the wolf, if she could, by talking to him? She really didn’t want to. She wanted nothing to do with him. And yet, it didn’t seem like she had a choice.
What would she tell him, then? How would she convince him to go to the village? Was the threat of her being stuck with him for the rest of his life enough? Could she get him to believe that she had powers over him? Did she? She’d been able to control her environment before his dream began. Could she have been able to affect the dream proper? If she could give him nightmares, that could be something. Or she could already just say that she had power over his dreams as long as she’d be able to leave before tomorrow night. It sure seemed like wishful thinking that this situation could be fixed within a day… but she supposed she could sort things out later if the need came, anyway.
However, there was a problem with the idea of getting the wolfman to the village. She didn’t know if he could be trusted around sheepmen, especially her family. Maybe she would skip her family and simply tell Agniya to relay a message. It would break her heart if she was never able to see her mother and father again, but better that than any harm to them.
Another problem was the fact that a wolf was surely not welcome among the sheep. However, there may have been a solution. Even if she didn’t think she’d had any proper rest after her murder, she felt like her magical energy was back. That made sense in a way, of course, as she didn’t have the axe wounds on her back anymore either. Regardless, she could attempt to transform him. She didn’t know if her magic worked now that she was a ghost, or if ghosts had some other kind of magic available to them, but it was worth a try. Though maybe it would be smarter to try it closer to the village, where the Protector’s magic was stronger. It would also require the wolf to agree to it, as Eliza wasn’t powerful enough to change someone against their will. Not yet, anyway…
One thing was certain, at least. She needed to talk to the wolfman… if she was even able, that was.
She floated up to the wolf. She couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. Regardless, he looked a lot less intimidating, lying down like this. Like a mortal man, not a bloodthirsty demon.
Still, Eliza found herself grasping her arms. She was still afraid. What if he was able to hurt her? What if he found her to be not his tormentor, but a new toy? What if…
No, she could fly. She could stay out of his reach. She could… she could handle this. She would survive this.
She took a deep breath and slowly lowered herself in front of him. She expected her feet to meet the ground, but instead, they phased through. So she could do that as well… she could hide underground. Yes, she would be fine.
She continued descending until her mouth was level with the wolfman’s ears. Her heart beat wildly. She found her words sticking to her throat until she forced them out.
“Wake up,” she whispered.
The wolfman’s ear twitched and his eyes opened in alarm. Eliza flew back a few paces. The wolfman sat up and looked around, but still didn’t seem to notice her.
While Eliza was still anxious, there was some relief - the wolf had heard her. Things would have been far worse if she’d had no way to communicate.
She cautiously floated back up to the confused wolfman and spoke again. “Hello?”
The wolfman flinched, now looking in Eliza’s direction. His eyes searched for the source of the voice, fruitlessly.
Eliza had not recoiled this time. She felt her courage strengthening.
“Speak to me,” she whispered next.
The wolfman’s face showed growing distress, but he remained silent.
Eliza quickly realized something and felt a bit foolish. Of course the wolfman wouldn’t understand her - she was speaking her own language. She would have to speak the wolf’s language.
Before she could worry too much about whether or not she was able to do that, the translation of her words came to her. She supposed it made sense, as she’d understood his language before.
“Speak to me,” she said, now in the wolf’s language.
Understanding sparked in the wolf’s eyes. He got up, quietly, and snuck away from his packmates. Eliza floated alongside him until he stopped ten or so paces away. He looked like he wanted to speak, but was having second thoughts.
“Speak to me,” Eliza said again, to encourage him. He flinched.
“Who… who are you?” the wolfman asked. “What are you?”
His words paused her breathing for a while. This was really happening. They were talking. She was talking to the man that killed her. What would she say?
She didn’t want to say who she was. She didn’t want to bare herself like that. Instead, she should… adopt a persona. Someone more neutral, someone more composed. Someone that wasn’t afraid.
“I am a spirit,” she finally said.
“What kind of… spirit?”
“Spirit… of vengeance.”
The wolfman looked disturbed. “What… what do you want from me?”
Good. He’d bought it. Now, to the point. “You must go to the village of the sheepmen and do as I say there.”
The wolfman nodded, but then… he frowned. “What will you do if I don’t?”
Eliza took a deep breath silently. She had to stick this lie.
“I will show you nightmares,” she said, “like the one you just saw, until you die.”
The wolfman fiddled with his hands. “You’ll haunt me until I die?”
“Yes.”
The wolfman took a deep breath. “And you‘re real? I’m not just mind-sick?”
“I am real.” Not that Eliza could really prove it.
The wolfman crossed his arms in thought. After a while, he spoke again. “What do I have to do in the village?”
So far so good. “Only visit someone. Nothing that will hurt you.”
“Are you sure? I’m… a wolf. There’s no way the sheepmen will welcome me.”
“That, yes. I may be able to help with that.”
“‘May be’?”
“I may be able to transform you into a sheepman. But you will have to be closer to the village for me to try.”
The wolfman sighed, then thought for a moment. “Alright. I’ll go there.”
He began to walk. It seemed he knew the way to the village. Perhaps his pack had seen it from afar before…
After a while, he opened his mouth again. “Are you… the sheepwoman I killed?”
Eliza fidgeted with her fingers. More lies. She hoped he would buy them.
“I am not her,” she said. “I am here on her behalf.”
“I see,” said the wolf. “What’s your name?”
The wolf didn’t know what the woman he killed was named, but Eliza still wanted to use a different name. She thought about it. “Firebird,” she then said.
“Firebird,” the wolfman repeated. He was quiet for a moment. “I’m Kahu,” he then said.
Nice to meet you, Kahu, Eliza almost said, so used to being polite, but no, it absolutely was not nice to meet him. “I see,” she simply said.
They continued on their way, passing tree after tree as they walked and floated respectively. Eliza lost herself in thought, contemplating all that had happened. A question arose time and time again, one that she didn’t quite have the courage to ask, as she feared the answer.
Why did he kill me?
“How long have you been with me?” Kahu suddenly asked.
“What?”
“When did you… come to me?” he asked. “You didn’t speak until now.”
“When you were dreaming,” Eliza said. She didn’t see any reason to lie about that.
“How did you find out about… what I did?”
Back to lies. “We spirits of vengeance inherit knowledge from those we are avenging.”
Kahu was silent for a moment. “The sheepwoman. Where is she now?”
Eliza almost said she was in the afterlife, but caught herself before she could speak. She was hoping to return herself into a corporeal form, but souls that had travelled to the afterlife could no longer come back. Everybody knew that. She would have to say that the sheepwoman was still present somehow, but not present in a way that would have the wolfman think he could speak to her.
“She is here, too,” Eliza said, “but dormant.”
“Why?”
“I do not know. Something has caused her soul to be bound to yours. That is what I want to ask the witch in the village about.”
“Huh.” A spell of silence. “What kinds of things do you know about her?”
“I… know some things. I know her village, her family, her mentor, her magic, some of her memories…”
“She had magic?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t she…”
Eliza grit her teeth as she realized what the wolf was asking. Why didn’t she defend herself? How dare he ask that?
“She did not have the energy for it,” Eliza said, straining herself not to sound upset. The truth was more accurately that she’d panicked, but admitting that would surely cause the wolf to jeer.
The wolf hummed in response, thoughtful.
Eliza floated further away so that she could huff without being heard. But after a bit of reflection… a question came to her, and she floated back up to the wolf.
“Why did you ask about her?” she asked, stern.
Kahu was silent for a moment. “I’m just trying to figure out the situation.”
Right. Figuring out the situation. Not trying to make amends or anything.
Well, it was obvious. What did the life of a sheep mean to a predator? Flesh to devour, perhaps, but nothing more. Really, she should have been surprised it wasn’t worse, that he didn’t seek to torment her.
They returned to silence and continued on. Eliza planned out exactly what she would use telepathy to say to Agniya. Once that was done, she settled for watching the vegetation and occasional bird or bug pass them by, trying not to worry about her parents.
Eventually, after all too long, the village and its farmland came into view. Eliza welcomed the sight of the little log houses even if it meant that the moment of truth was fast approaching.
“Finally,” Kahu sighed. “Is now the time you’re gonna turn me into a sheepman?”
“I could attempt it now, yes,” Eliza said. She took a deep breath and --
“Wait,” Kahu said, raising a palm. “Will it be painful?”
“It should not be painful, no,” Eliza said. “The sheepwoman turned herself into other forms many times and felt no pain.”
“And… you’ll turn me back later, right?”
“Yes.”
Kahu sighed again. “Alright. Do it, then. I’m ready.”
“Alright.”
Eliza raised her palms at Kahu. She imagined the wolfman changing shape and reached out to the Protector with a silent wish.
Nothing happened for a while. Eliza’s heart sank. Could the Protector not hear her? Or had she heard the request to turn a wolfman into a sheep and rejected it, suspecting it to be a ploy to harm the village?
No, golden sparks lit up around Kahu, and a coating of light enveloped him! The Protector had heard her and agreed to her wish after all!
Kahu grunted as his proportions began to change. Flatter brow, eyes further apart, wider nose. Grayish fur became off-white wool, thick horns emerged from the head and curled into spirals, circular pupils became horizontal bars.
Eliza remembered something and made an amendment to her wish. The Protector must have heard it, as the loincloth of animal hide was replaced by gray woollen trousers whose pantlegs stopped right under the knee.
Once the light faded, Kahu studied his new form. He touched his new snout, feeling its contours, then moved on to his horns, then to his new clothing.
“I’ve never worn clothing like this before,” he said. “I’ve only seen it on prey peoples. What is it called?”
“Those are called trousers,” Eliza said, using the word for trousers in her language as the wolf language she knew didn’t seem to have a word for them. Or it was missing simply because Kahu didn’t know it. That probably made more sense.
“Trousers,” Kahu repeated the word, slightly mispronouncing it. Eliza almost chuckled until she remembered that there was nothing to laugh about in her current situation. She was still stuck to a wolfman that had killed her in cold blood, and she had to bring him to his village. There may have been no way for her to detach herself from him, or if there was, there was a good chance that it involved her dying. And then she would never see her parents again.
The weight of it hit her like a runaway carriage. She was dead. And unless she managed to un-kill herself, she would continue to be dead.
Tears rose to her eyes. She sniffled.
“What was that?” Kahu asked.
“Nothing,” Eliza said and promptly cursed the fact that her crying was audible in her voice. The wolf had no right to hear it. The wolf had no right to see her emotions. He would not use that right responsibly, but to shame and insult.
She floated further away, bracing herself for a cruel comment, but the wolf stayed silent. Perhaps he hadn’t heard after all.
Without a word, the wolf-turned-sheep began heading for the village. Eliza lazily followed him. Above them, the pale moon continued to shine amidst the twinkling stars.
i would rate this story as mature due to the gore. its hard to say what else there will be in the story since so much of it hasnt yet been planned, but i think there may also be toxic relationship dynamics and forms of bigotry like sexism and homophobia (and definitely fantasy racism, but that one probably doesnt hit as hard when the parties involved are animal people not identifiable as any particular group).
i think thats about what i want to say. find some character art before the summary, and the pilot after the summary. thanks for reading, and extra thanks if you find the time to leave any kind of feedback. cheers!
---
Eliza
Kahu
Kahu
---
Sheepskin
Synopsis:
A young sheepwoman witch, Eliza, is gathering ingredients for potions at night when she is brutally murdered by a wolfman from a newly arrived pack. Instead of finding herself in the afterlife, she awakens as a ghost, tied to the wolf by an unknown power and unable to leave him. An unlikely pair, the two of them must work together to free themselves from each other - if such a thing is even possible.
Genre:
Fantasy
Status:
Ongoing
Length:
TBD
---
CHAPTER ONE
Pilot
---
As tranquil as it was, however, Eliza felt a little anxious. She knew the Protector’s blessing kept ravenous beasts away from the village and its vicinity, sure, but her primal instincts still told her it wasn’t safe. A reminder that her kind had once been mere beasts, four-legged sheep without hands or bountiful wool.
Still, her determination overruled her unease. She only had to do three more tests before she could let herself call it a night. Agniya had told her to let go and turn in already, but she’d refused. She was sure the next batch would be the one. She only needed a handful of elderberries - though now that she was making this trip, she thought she might as well get enough for later, which is why she’d brought her basket.
She kept walking along the vague path that split the tall grass. This way was to the creek where elderberry shrubs grew. Momentarily, she reflected on how well she knew this area and felt a little proud. The countless hours foraging for herbs, flowers and berries had provided her with more than just ingredients. Then again… this was exactly how familiar a witch should have been with her environment. Maybe she didn’t get to feel proud.
A caw and the flapping of wings split the air, making Eliza flinch. No, he thought to herself, just a crow. There was nothing to fear. In fact, she liked crows. She liked all birds. Having one near was only comforting.
Father liked birds, too. When Eliza had been young, Father had regularly taken her out into the woods and taught her the name of every bird they saw or heard. She still remembered the first time she’d seen a pheasant. What a striking head it had had!
Eliza smiled, but the smile quickly wilted away. It had been long since their last walk. She might never get to do it again if he didn’t recover. Certainly not if he perished. Oh, that thought was as scary as always. She couldn’t lose him. She wasn’t ready for that, not yet.
She shook her head, sighing. Worrying did her no good. Finding the cure was what she needed to do.
She pressed on. In a short while, she met the meadow’s edge and continued past the birches. The creek was still some time away. The thought of all the walking she still needed to do before she could get back to work frustrated her. She would’ve liked to turn into an eagle and fly, but she was too drained to use magic so late into the night, and she was rather far from the Protector’s shrine, which would have meant straining herself even more…
Wait. Was she hearing… steps?
She stopped, and the steps continued. They were coming from up ahead, behind the curve in the path.
Who could it be? Who else would have business in the woods in the dead of night? Was it an animal? A deer? It didn’t sound like a deer - too heavy, only one set of steps…
The steps approached, approached, until their owner emerged from behind the trees.
It was not a sheepman. It was a man, but not a sheep. He had no wool, but fur in gray and brown and white. He… he resembled the drawings in one of Agniya’s books. Drawings of ‘wolfmen’.
If you ever meet a wolfman, she remembered Agniya saying, scream.
But Eliza couldn’t scream. Her voice had been stolen from her. All she could do was stare.
The wolfman stared back. His eyes were yellow, unblinking, wild. In his hand, he carried a stone axe, and a large piece of brown hide wrapped around his waist, covering his loins.
A moment passed with neither of them moving. Then another. Yet the wolf’s stare didn’t relent. Some intense emotion burned behind those eyes. Eliza couldn’t tell what.
Another moment later, Eliza felt her voice return. She could have taken the chance to scream… but the curiosity of a witch beget her to try a different approach.
“Hello?” she spoke, softly. “Are you alright?”
Something snapped in the wolfman’s head. His fist clenched around the handle of the axe, and he roared, breaking into a run. The sight of his teeth burned itself into Eliza’s mind before she turned around and fled.
Blood rushed in Eliza’s ears as she ran, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the horrible sound of her pursuer’s steps, gaining on her. She remembered her basket and threw it behind herself, hoping to slow the wolfman down. She had no idea if it worked, and she had no time to start guessing. The only thing on her mind now was escape.
She did not achieve it. The steps came closer and closer until cold stone drove itself into her upper back. The pain, overwhelming, drew a scream from her lungs as she fell. Her body met the ground with a thump. She knew she had to get up, but terror rendered her paralyzed. Moments later, the stone was yanked out of her flesh - she screamed - then rammed in again, taken out, in again, repeating. She felt every impact all throughout her body, felt the cracking of her bones, while her wounds cried pain.
Then, he stopped.
Was it over? Was he leaving? Would she live?
A blow to the base of her skull took away her thoughts.
---
Was it done? Was it done? Was she dead? No one could take that kind of blow to the head and live, right?
Kahu’s hands trembled as he placed the axe on the ground and crouched beside the sheepwoman. She wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing. He reached his hand for the sheepwoman’s neck…
…No, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t conscious, and that was all that mattered. She wouldn’t feel what he was about to do next.
Not that he managed to minimize her pain before. He should have struck the head earlier, right after she’d fallen, but he’d panicked. He’d figured that if he simply kept hacking without stopping to think, she’d die faster.
Stupid, stupid. What an idiot he must have looked like. A pup whacking away with a stick. He was better than that. No, he wasn’t better than that. He’d always been this way. Terrible hunter. No grit, no grace.
No, no! He was strong. He’d killed a sheepman, just like he said he would. The others didn’t have to know how well or how poorly he’d done it, how sick it had made him feel. All he had to do was bring back the head, and it’d speak for itself.
Alright. He’d pull himself together. He knew he didn’t have time to waste - someone else might show up. Someone who could see what he’d done and get away and tell even more sheep, and then he’d have to face a mob.
He picked his axe back up and took a deep breath. He raised the axe and brought it down on the sheepwoman’s neck. The wool muffled the blow, but Kahu still felt the blade sink into the flesh. He shuddered, but pulled it out and struck again. And again, and again.
The moon shifted in the sky as he hacked away. Every now and then, he’d think he’d heard a noise, and stop to listen - but no one ever came. After cleaving the back of the neck, he rolled the body belly-up and continued work on the front. Eventually, he dared to try and twist off the head. He couldn’t manage it at first, but after pausing to get in a few more blows with the axe, he succeeded. The head in his hands, he lay on the ground for a while to catch his breath. The hard part was over.
He got up and transferred the head to his right hand, grasping the wool at the top of the head, and picked up the axe with his left hand. He gave the scene one last look. A headless corpse of a sheepwoman lay in the middle of a path surrounded by tall grass. Sticky blood seeped into the white cloth of her dress. That dress… who had made that dress? Had it been someone close to her? How would they react once they found out about her death? How much would it hurt them?
No, no, it didn’t matter. These were prey people. It didn’t matter what they thought. They were dull-minded, lesser beings. Even if they could make such beautiful dresses. No, it couldn’t be a sign of intellect. It had to just be in their nature, like the way birds made nests and beavers built dams.
Kahu squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced. He shouldn’t dwell on it. He should get going.
---
Finally, following his scent trail had brought him back where he’d come from - the small patch of open ground in the woods that his pack was sleeping in. No one seemed to notice him arriving, all five wolves sleeping soundly on their moose furs.
Kahu walked up to Hopa, his eldest brother, and gently prodded him in the back with his foot. The dark-furred wolf stirred, then rolled over with squinted eyes. As he noticed the disembodied sheep head in Kahu’s hands, his eyes widened and he sat up.
“Kahu?” he whispered in his deep voice. “Is that…”
“Yes,” Kahu said, keeping his voice low. “I did it.”
Hopa stared at the sheep head for a while, incredulous. “I didn’t expect you to actually do it.”
“Well, I did,” Kahu said. “Because I’m not weak. I’m strong.”
Hopa stayed quiet, then got up. He walked two paces to the right to crouch over Veli, the brown-furred second son, and tapped on his shoulder. Veli woke up with a grimace and sat up.
“What?” Veli asked, then saw the sheep head. He gaped, then crawled over to his younger brother, Tino. “Wake up!” he whisper-yelled, shaking the gray-furred wolf, who woke with a yelp. Hopa and Veli shushed him, then glanced over at their father, sleeping a few paces away. The large black wolf rolled in his sleep, but didn’t wake. They all sighed in relief.
Tino got up when he saw the sheep head. He crouched to be level with it and poked it in the nose, then grabbed its jaws to part them, looking into the mouth. Kahu felt a little annoyed that the prize was being prodded at, but said nothing. Tino always did this with their quarry.
“What are you doing?” asked another voice from behind them, female. The brothers looked over to see their pale-furred sister, Nevea, sitting up on her moose fur.
“Kahu went and got the head of a sheepman,” Hopa explained. Kahu turned around to show the sheep head.
Nevea stared for a moment. “I don’t think so,” she then said, shaking her head. “It had to have been a four-legs.”
“No, it’s a two-legs,” Hopa said. “Snout is shorter, forehead is higher, eyes are bigger. No horns, so it must be a female…”
“Would have been harder if it was male,” Veli said.
“Hey,” Kahu snapped. “I still killed a two-legs. That proves I have it in me.”
Veli looked like he was about to argue. Kahu grit his teeth. If he had done this, and they still wouldn’t respect him…
“Yeah, no, I guess it does,” Veli said instead. Kahu sighed. Good.
“You still have to stick to it,” Hopa said, crossing his arms, then looked Kahu in the eyes. “Being able to do it once isn’t enough. If you’re really serious, you’ll never hesitate again.”
Kahu answered the gaze, unwavering. “I won’t.”
But was that true? Could he really always be strong from now on, and never be weak again?
It had to be so. Otherwise… he’d be left behind.
“If it really is a two-legs…” Nevea began. “Then you did something very, very stupid.”
Kahu frowned. “How so?”
“Well, the sheepmen aren’t just gonna let someone kill their own without retribution,” Nevea said. “They’re gonna come after us.”
“They don’t know we’re here,” Kahu argued.
“They know now!” Nevea growled, causing her brothers to shush her. She continued with a lowered voice. “Unless you think they’re stupid enough to think that some wild animal was the one that killed a sheepman and only took the head.”
“Nevea,” Hopa whispered, looking at their father stirring.
This time, however, the black wolf did not stay down. He got up and stomped closer until he saw what Kahu carried in his hands. He was quiet for a while, then bared his teeth.
“Which one of you did that?” Tuonaro shouted in his deep voice, making no effort to keep quiet.
Veli and Tino pointed at Kahu. Kahu felt his heart rate pick up.
“Are you absolutely out of your mind?” Tuonaro growled, closing the distance between them. “What possessed you to do something so idiotic?”
“I…” Kahu’s words stuck in his throat. He hadn’t seen Father this angry in a long time. “I wanted to prove that I was strong.”
“Being strong means nothing if you’re dumb as rocks!” Tuonaro roared. “Now we have to flee these perfectly good lands we just reached, with perfectly good berries and quarry, all because you didn’t think!”
“I’m sorry,” Kahu whined, his heart banging against his breastbone. “I just wanted to --”
“Save it!” Tuonaro’s breathing was heavy. He looked down at the sheep head again, then returned his gaze to Kahu’s eyes. “Go throw that in the pond we passed. Make sure it’s deep. If the sheep catch us carrying that, we’ll lose whatever little chance we have of them not thinking the killing was us.”
Kahu frowned. He would have liked to spend more time with the new proof of his strength. “Okay,” he sighed.
“Good. Get going.” Tuonaro stormed off to his sleeping fur. “We’ll discuss your punishment in the morning.”
“Alright…”
Kahu turned around and headed for the direction of the pond. His ears were pinned against his head, and his tail wanted to tuck itself between his legs. His heart pounded and his stomach twisted, but worst of all, his thoughts screamed at him in unison - stupid, stupid, stupid.
He didn’t hear his pack say anything as he left. At least he could be glad that no one was jeering.
---
Eliza awoke to darkness. Darkness and weightlessness.
She looked around, trying to see something, but there was nothing. She looked down and saw her body, despite the darkness. She was white all over, whiter than usual - glowing, glowing with an eerie green tint. Her feet touched no ground, not that she thought there was any here. She was also nude.
This must be a dream, she thought. A strange dream.
Well, if it was a dream and she knew it was a dream, she could control it. Agniya had taught her that, and she’d found it to be true several times before.
She imagined her favorite dress on herself, and it appeared. She imagined ground, and it appeared. Then she imagined… what would she imagine? Oh, yes, she knew.
She shaped with her mind a long-necked bird with brilliantly red, orange and yellow feathers - a firebird. It stood on its thin, long, gray legs, as tall as Eliza yet frozen in place, its impressive tail feathers brushing the ground. Eliza admired it for a while, circling it to view it from different angles, before she willed it to life. It blinked its blue eyes, then began walking, bobbing its head with each step as birds did. It spread its wings and beat them a few times, letting Eliza marvel at its wings. Then it let out a cry, a haunting yet beautiful wail.
Eliza smiled. She cupped her hands and willed sunflower seeds into them, then offered them to the firebird. It leaned in, tilting its head side to side to view the seeds with both its eyes, then pecked at them with its slender, gray beak.
“You’re a pretty bird,” Eliza said as the bird ate. “Yes, you are.”
A light ignited in the distance to Eliza’s right. It was a cold, white light. Before Eliza could hazard a guess as to what it was, it suddenly grew, grew, overtaking the darkness and the bird and Eliza. She closed her eyes with a grunt.
When she saw the light fading through her eyelids, she dared to open her eyes. She was in a misty, moonlit meadow, floating again. Aside from her, there were…
There was a wolfman, and there was her headless corpse, standing upright some thirty paces away.
It all came back to her. Leaving the village in the dead of night, journeying to the elderberry bushes, encountering the wolfman with an axe, attempting to flee, her back screaming pain, falling down, more pain, then nothing. She had died. And this wolfman had killed her.
Eliza couldn’t move. Her heart beat wildly, nothing left of the calmness it had had before. She barely dared to breathe. If he saw her again… what would he do?
Thankfully, his attention seemed to be on the headless corpse. There was a discomforted expression on his face. Eliza gave the corpse a longer look, and felt disturbed as well. She’d seen bodies of animals that had experienced a violent death before - carcasses of hares left behind by foxes, for example - but never sheepmen, or any other type of man, mutilated in this way.
Blood spurted from the corpse’s open neck with a sickening squelch. Eliza winced. The wolfman’s snout wrinkled in disgust. As Eliza thought about it, she found it strange. Wouldn’t a violent killer like him feel nothing at a sight like this? Perhaps even enjoy it?
He then opened his mouth to speak. What came out was a sentence in a foreign language - but Eliza understood it.
“How are you standing? You’re dead,” the wolfman said.
Eliza blinked, confused. How could she understand him? She’d never heard those words before. The only language she’d heard that wasn’t hers was that of a traveling pigman come to exchange wares in her village several years ago. It hadn’t even sounded like what the wolfman had just spoken.
The corpse, in response, suddenly bent backwards and trembled, as if having some attack of illness. More blood leaked from the neck, dripping down onto the grass below and painting it red. The body shook harder by the moment, beginning to convulse, yet somehow still kept its balance. Muffled crackling arose from somewhere within, like bones breaking, and then --
From the neck erupted long, gangly appendages, which bent their many joints to touch the ground. They were furred with overgrown hooves at their tips and, through their sticky red coating, appeared to be white.
Eliza covered her mouth. She’d never seen anything as wrong as this. She looked to the wolfman and saw the same horror on his face as he stumbled backwards.
But that had been a mistake.
The creature screeched and began to crawl towards them, all too fast. The wolfman turned around and ran. Eliza fled, too, though by floating - she’d done something like this in prior dreams - dreams!
That’s right, it was a dream. A nightmare, as things stood now, but a dream nonetheless. She quickly floated up high, away from the terror’s reach, and watched from above.
The creature screeched again as it gained on the wolfman whose panting could be heard as high as Eliza was. He was afraid, clearly. Eliza felt… glad.
Yes, the man who’d killed her was afraid. He might soon be in pain, too, depending on what the creature actually did once it caught its prey. This felt right. He should suffer. He should know what it was like to be afraid for one’s life and meet a gruesome end.
Carefully, Eliza floated closer. She wanted to see it. She wanted to see justice realized.
It took only moments more for the creature to reach the wolf. It struck him in the back with the bottom of a hoof, causing him to lose his balance and fall. While the wolfman tried to scramble up to his feet, two more appendages slid out from the corpse-body’s neck - one with a monstrous hand of three talon-tipped fingers, and one with a sharp, bony blade. As soon as the wolfman was upright again, the hand caught his neck in a strangling grip and raised him off the ground. The wolf gargled as he flailed his legs and tried fruitlessly to pry his neck free with his hands. The hand turned him around while the bladed arm craned back, taking its aim. The wolf’s eyes bulged from his skull as he realized what was to come.
Eliza held her breath. Did she want to see this after all…?
She didn’t get to wonder for much longer as the creature thrust its blade through the wolfman.
The world changed.
The creature was gone, and so was the wolfman. No - he was on the ground, sitting up on the fur of some animal, gasping for air. Around them were several other wolves sleeping on their own furs, and around those were trees, birches. In the middle was a fire pit, long since gone out.
He’d woken up. It hadn’t been Eliza’s dream - it had been the wolfman’s.
Eliza watched in silence as the wolfman’s breathing gradually calmed. Heart pounding, she waited for him to see her, but he didn’t. She must have been invisible to him.
Eventually, the wolfman lay back down and closed his eyes. Eliza sighed silently. Could she try to leave now…?
She slowly floated away from the wolves. She would have to make it to an opening to better observe the stars. She could figure out which way was which from them. Since she’d been west of the village when she was killed, which was the direction the wolf had also come from, she would have to head eastward. Then she would… hold on, what was happening?
Eliza had made it perhaps ten paces from the wolf when advancing suddenly became harder. She had to strain to keep floating, more and more as she pressed on. It was as if there was a force pulling her back, one that grew stronger the further she got. Eventually, it became too strong to overpower. She let go, bounding back, almost yelping in surprise at the strength of the yank.
She looked behind herself. She must have gotten twenty paces from the wolfman at the farthest.
While she suspected that another attempt would end up going the exact same way, she tried anyway. Her suspicion was correct - she couldn’t make it any further. Okay. It seemed like she wasn’t going anywhere.
But why was that? Why couldn’t she leave? And what was she, anyway? What had happened after she’d died?
Well, if she’d died, and she was here now, she was clearly some sort of ghost. A ghost being able to visit someone’s dreams made sense, too. But her being a ghost didn’t explain why she couldn’t leave. Had something… bound her to her killer somehow?
She hadn’t heard about anything like this from Agniya, but Agniya hadn’t had that much knowledge about ghosts to impart, anyway. Eliza only knew that ghosts were sometimes created when a person died while experiencing strong emotions or having an unfinished task. She supposed she had both - the terror of being murdered, and the task of finding elderberries, or more generally the task of finding a cure for her father.
Oh, no. Her father. Her family. How would they react when someone found her headless corpse and told them? Would Father’s heart be able to take it? Would Mother go to war with the wolfmen? She would be killed! Then who would Father have left?
No, Eliza had to find a way to speak to them. Let them know that she was alive - in a way, at least. Tell Mother not to literally throw herself to the wolves.
And perhaps… perhaps Agniya did know something that would help Eliza out. If not her, the Protector. Though would the Protector want to help her? The Protector had made it clear that she would not bring back the dead, or even heal the sick. That it would go against the natural order. Eliza’s heart ached as she remembered that conversation… well, maybe she should simply be glad that she could still feel her heart as a ghost.
So what would she do now? Would she… wake up the wolf, if she could, by talking to him? She really didn’t want to. She wanted nothing to do with him. And yet, it didn’t seem like she had a choice.
What would she tell him, then? How would she convince him to go to the village? Was the threat of her being stuck with him for the rest of his life enough? Could she get him to believe that she had powers over him? Did she? She’d been able to control her environment before his dream began. Could she have been able to affect the dream proper? If she could give him nightmares, that could be something. Or she could already just say that she had power over his dreams as long as she’d be able to leave before tomorrow night. It sure seemed like wishful thinking that this situation could be fixed within a day… but she supposed she could sort things out later if the need came, anyway.
However, there was a problem with the idea of getting the wolfman to the village. She didn’t know if he could be trusted around sheepmen, especially her family. Maybe she would skip her family and simply tell Agniya to relay a message. It would break her heart if she was never able to see her mother and father again, but better that than any harm to them.
Another problem was the fact that a wolf was surely not welcome among the sheep. However, there may have been a solution. Even if she didn’t think she’d had any proper rest after her murder, she felt like her magical energy was back. That made sense in a way, of course, as she didn’t have the axe wounds on her back anymore either. Regardless, she could attempt to transform him. She didn’t know if her magic worked now that she was a ghost, or if ghosts had some other kind of magic available to them, but it was worth a try. Though maybe it would be smarter to try it closer to the village, where the Protector’s magic was stronger. It would also require the wolf to agree to it, as Eliza wasn’t powerful enough to change someone against their will. Not yet, anyway…
One thing was certain, at least. She needed to talk to the wolfman… if she was even able, that was.
She floated up to the wolf. She couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. Regardless, he looked a lot less intimidating, lying down like this. Like a mortal man, not a bloodthirsty demon.
Still, Eliza found herself grasping her arms. She was still afraid. What if he was able to hurt her? What if he found her to be not his tormentor, but a new toy? What if…
No, she could fly. She could stay out of his reach. She could… she could handle this. She would survive this.
She took a deep breath and slowly lowered herself in front of him. She expected her feet to meet the ground, but instead, they phased through. So she could do that as well… she could hide underground. Yes, she would be fine.
She continued descending until her mouth was level with the wolfman’s ears. Her heart beat wildly. She found her words sticking to her throat until she forced them out.
“Wake up,” she whispered.
The wolfman’s ear twitched and his eyes opened in alarm. Eliza flew back a few paces. The wolfman sat up and looked around, but still didn’t seem to notice her.
While Eliza was still anxious, there was some relief - the wolf had heard her. Things would have been far worse if she’d had no way to communicate.
She cautiously floated back up to the confused wolfman and spoke again. “Hello?”
The wolfman flinched, now looking in Eliza’s direction. His eyes searched for the source of the voice, fruitlessly.
Eliza had not recoiled this time. She felt her courage strengthening.
“Speak to me,” she whispered next.
The wolfman’s face showed growing distress, but he remained silent.
Eliza quickly realized something and felt a bit foolish. Of course the wolfman wouldn’t understand her - she was speaking her own language. She would have to speak the wolf’s language.
Before she could worry too much about whether or not she was able to do that, the translation of her words came to her. She supposed it made sense, as she’d understood his language before.
“Speak to me,” she said, now in the wolf’s language.
Understanding sparked in the wolf’s eyes. He got up, quietly, and snuck away from his packmates. Eliza floated alongside him until he stopped ten or so paces away. He looked like he wanted to speak, but was having second thoughts.
“Speak to me,” Eliza said again, to encourage him. He flinched.
“Who… who are you?” the wolfman asked. “What are you?”
His words paused her breathing for a while. This was really happening. They were talking. She was talking to the man that killed her. What would she say?
She didn’t want to say who she was. She didn’t want to bare herself like that. Instead, she should… adopt a persona. Someone more neutral, someone more composed. Someone that wasn’t afraid.
“I am a spirit,” she finally said.
“What kind of… spirit?”
“Spirit… of vengeance.”
The wolfman looked disturbed. “What… what do you want from me?”
Good. He’d bought it. Now, to the point. “You must go to the village of the sheepmen and do as I say there.”
The wolfman nodded, but then… he frowned. “What will you do if I don’t?”
Eliza took a deep breath silently. She had to stick this lie.
“I will show you nightmares,” she said, “like the one you just saw, until you die.”
The wolfman fiddled with his hands. “You’ll haunt me until I die?”
“Yes.”
The wolfman took a deep breath. “And you‘re real? I’m not just mind-sick?”
“I am real.” Not that Eliza could really prove it.
The wolfman crossed his arms in thought. After a while, he spoke again. “What do I have to do in the village?”
So far so good. “Only visit someone. Nothing that will hurt you.”
“Are you sure? I’m… a wolf. There’s no way the sheepmen will welcome me.”
“That, yes. I may be able to help with that.”
“‘May be’?”
“I may be able to transform you into a sheepman. But you will have to be closer to the village for me to try.”
The wolfman sighed, then thought for a moment. “Alright. I’ll go there.”
He began to walk. It seemed he knew the way to the village. Perhaps his pack had seen it from afar before…
After a while, he opened his mouth again. “Are you… the sheepwoman I killed?”
Eliza fidgeted with her fingers. More lies. She hoped he would buy them.
“I am not her,” she said. “I am here on her behalf.”
“I see,” said the wolf. “What’s your name?”
The wolf didn’t know what the woman he killed was named, but Eliza still wanted to use a different name. She thought about it. “Firebird,” she then said.
“Firebird,” the wolfman repeated. He was quiet for a moment. “I’m Kahu,” he then said.
Nice to meet you, Kahu, Eliza almost said, so used to being polite, but no, it absolutely was not nice to meet him. “I see,” she simply said.
They continued on their way, passing tree after tree as they walked and floated respectively. Eliza lost herself in thought, contemplating all that had happened. A question arose time and time again, one that she didn’t quite have the courage to ask, as she feared the answer.
Why did he kill me?
“How long have you been with me?” Kahu suddenly asked.
“What?”
“When did you… come to me?” he asked. “You didn’t speak until now.”
“When you were dreaming,” Eliza said. She didn’t see any reason to lie about that.
“How did you find out about… what I did?”
Back to lies. “We spirits of vengeance inherit knowledge from those we are avenging.”
Kahu was silent for a moment. “The sheepwoman. Where is she now?”
Eliza almost said she was in the afterlife, but caught herself before she could speak. She was hoping to return herself into a corporeal form, but souls that had travelled to the afterlife could no longer come back. Everybody knew that. She would have to say that the sheepwoman was still present somehow, but not present in a way that would have the wolfman think he could speak to her.
“She is here, too,” Eliza said, “but dormant.”
“Why?”
“I do not know. Something has caused her soul to be bound to yours. That is what I want to ask the witch in the village about.”
“Huh.” A spell of silence. “What kinds of things do you know about her?”
“I… know some things. I know her village, her family, her mentor, her magic, some of her memories…”
“She had magic?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t she…”
Eliza grit her teeth as she realized what the wolf was asking. Why didn’t she defend herself? How dare he ask that?
“She did not have the energy for it,” Eliza said, straining herself not to sound upset. The truth was more accurately that she’d panicked, but admitting that would surely cause the wolf to jeer.
The wolf hummed in response, thoughtful.
Eliza floated further away so that she could huff without being heard. But after a bit of reflection… a question came to her, and she floated back up to the wolf.
“Why did you ask about her?” she asked, stern.
Kahu was silent for a moment. “I’m just trying to figure out the situation.”
Right. Figuring out the situation. Not trying to make amends or anything.
Well, it was obvious. What did the life of a sheep mean to a predator? Flesh to devour, perhaps, but nothing more. Really, she should have been surprised it wasn’t worse, that he didn’t seek to torment her.
They returned to silence and continued on. Eliza planned out exactly what she would use telepathy to say to Agniya. Once that was done, she settled for watching the vegetation and occasional bird or bug pass them by, trying not to worry about her parents.
Eventually, after all too long, the village and its farmland came into view. Eliza welcomed the sight of the little log houses even if it meant that the moment of truth was fast approaching.
“Finally,” Kahu sighed. “Is now the time you’re gonna turn me into a sheepman?”
“I could attempt it now, yes,” Eliza said. She took a deep breath and --
“Wait,” Kahu said, raising a palm. “Will it be painful?”
“It should not be painful, no,” Eliza said. “The sheepwoman turned herself into other forms many times and felt no pain.”
“And… you’ll turn me back later, right?”
“Yes.”
Kahu sighed again. “Alright. Do it, then. I’m ready.”
“Alright.”
Eliza raised her palms at Kahu. She imagined the wolfman changing shape and reached out to the Protector with a silent wish.
Nothing happened for a while. Eliza’s heart sank. Could the Protector not hear her? Or had she heard the request to turn a wolfman into a sheep and rejected it, suspecting it to be a ploy to harm the village?
No, golden sparks lit up around Kahu, and a coating of light enveloped him! The Protector had heard her and agreed to her wish after all!
Kahu grunted as his proportions began to change. Flatter brow, eyes further apart, wider nose. Grayish fur became off-white wool, thick horns emerged from the head and curled into spirals, circular pupils became horizontal bars.
Eliza remembered something and made an amendment to her wish. The Protector must have heard it, as the loincloth of animal hide was replaced by gray woollen trousers whose pantlegs stopped right under the knee.
Once the light faded, Kahu studied his new form. He touched his new snout, feeling its contours, then moved on to his horns, then to his new clothing.
“I’ve never worn clothing like this before,” he said. “I’ve only seen it on prey peoples. What is it called?”
“Those are called trousers,” Eliza said, using the word for trousers in her language as the wolf language she knew didn’t seem to have a word for them. Or it was missing simply because Kahu didn’t know it. That probably made more sense.
“Trousers,” Kahu repeated the word, slightly mispronouncing it. Eliza almost chuckled until she remembered that there was nothing to laugh about in her current situation. She was still stuck to a wolfman that had killed her in cold blood, and she had to bring him to his village. There may have been no way for her to detach herself from him, or if there was, there was a good chance that it involved her dying. And then she would never see her parents again.
The weight of it hit her like a runaway carriage. She was dead. And unless she managed to un-kill herself, she would continue to be dead.
Tears rose to her eyes. She sniffled.
“What was that?” Kahu asked.
“Nothing,” Eliza said and promptly cursed the fact that her crying was audible in her voice. The wolf had no right to hear it. The wolf had no right to see her emotions. He would not use that right responsibly, but to shame and insult.
She floated further away, bracing herself for a cruel comment, but the wolf stayed silent. Perhaps he hadn’t heard after all.
Without a word, the wolf-turned-sheep began heading for the village. Eliza lazily followed him. Above them, the pale moon continued to shine amidst the twinkling stars.
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