Eclipse (a trilogy): A saga of love and fate

PROLOGUE "Go back to your dark shrouded mountains where you belong, you demons!” A white-bearded man holding a pitchfork laced with bright silver on the tip, said and spat at the people before him. One of the giant-looking people, who looked like the leader, stepped forth with a snarl that wasn't of a human. “The only reason why I do not tear you in two where you stand is because we have had enough of this senseless war.” His voice bellowed and echoed into the forest surroundings. “The only way this war could ever come to an end is when you and your kind do not walk the earth!” The white-bearded man pulled out his crossbow which he had strapped to his back and pointed it to the towering man in front of him. “Must it always have to go this way?” The werewolf leader said in a lower tone. The men behind him had already started to howl and growl, waiting for their command, ready for a fight. But instead, the leader waved them off by holding up a clenched fist; a gesture for his superhuman men to stand down. “We have to be better than they are. Attack now and that makes us even more feral.” Silverfang, the leader of the werewolf clan, said to his people, before turning his attention back to the human leader. “I do not know what our shamans saw to have said what they said, but have they ever been wrong?” Silverfang stood in the center of opposing sides holding his arms wide open in the air. “Have you not grown weary of attacking each other!” His voice was more hoarse now. He looked around as if searching for something — the blank expressions on both his people and their enemies, before he continued. “You are not so different from us! We feel pain just like you do, just as much as we bleed!” Silverfang added, watching the movements of the man still holding up a loaded crossbow with a silver arrow pointed directly at him. “Aren't you weary, old friend?” His gaze shifted upon the armed old man's and for a second there was a flicker of realization as the man began lowering his weapon. "Liar!" echoed a hunter from behind, while a woman wielding a silver-tipped spear spat, "Foul beast!" "Do not listen to the likes of him!" urged another voice. "Don't listen to them, Old Man Jack!" "They smothered your beloved wife!" accused a voice, weaving a web of accusations in the moonlit confrontation. That last protest shook the remorseful expression of Old Man Jack's face as he raised his weapon back. He was one of the greatest werewolf hunters still alive. “Silverfang, our shamans spat the impossible. A betrothal between your kind and mine is impossible! And a child born out of it? Madness!” “Jack, would you have your men brutally killed yet again?” The werewolf leader stepped closer to his friend. “I know you want to end this just as much as I do,” he reached out his arm for a truce. This made the werewolves behind him bellow and growled angrily. “You only want a truce because you fear just how much we humans have grown. We know your every weakness. We know how to pierce your tough skin and make you bleed. We know how to kill you. And we also know that you aren't human.” Old Man Jack, fired at Silverfang, who caught the arrow in his hand with superhuman reflexes. Silverfang gave a victorious stare at the shooter before he lost his footing and fell on one knee to the grass. He shook his head as if trying to fight a sudden dizziness that struck him. “What is this?” He said in a shaky voice and started choking slowly. “A little gift. I have added a special ingredient as well. How'd you like it?” The shooter said, watching his target closely. The werewolves behind Silverfang were set to pounce on the hunters, but their leader held them back still. “No! Stay back!” He said weakly but with authority. He was the Alpha, their leader, and he was also a primordial — the most powerful werewolf in existence and no werewolf can match their power; they possess some abilities that normal werewolves don't. “I will give you and your men one more chance to turn around and walk away. Your actions are beginning to exhaust my patience.” The werewolf king said. “I don't believe we have a choice here.” Jack loaded another arrow into his crossbow and held it up at his target, ready to fire again. “Why don't you go and live your life like other humans? Look how far they've got with their advancement. Instead of living in the woods like primitives — hunting us like we are animals.” Silverfang had recovered from the heavily laced arrow quicker than expected. “We hunters live in the woods to protect humanity from abominations like you!” “Haven't we hid enough? Do you still wish to follow the ways of old? We are not your enemy. Why do you and your men keep trying to hunt us down?” “Maybe we ought to — it is our destiny. Our forebears started this siege on your kind and I must honor them by ending it; even if I die trying.” “That was the same thing your father said, and his father, and his father before!” “And here we are again, don't you see it's fated?” “Don't talk to me about fate, Jack, when the shamans spoke, why didn't you back them up like I did?” Silverfang asked. “What they said was malarkey, a farce. And even if I did believe it, do you think all my men would? Do you think your men will accept either? We have both lost so many of our people to this war. The reason we still fight is for revenge for the fallen. Hate! This is beyond healing or prophecy, we might as well fight to our demise.” Amidst the leaders' ongoing dispute, their followers escalated the tension with curses and threats. The conflict intensified, like an erupting volcano. Suddenly, a werewolf, driven by the turmoil, leaped to attack the enraged mob. Swiftly, a special blade found its mark, piercing the creature's heart. The clash between both sides erupted into a fearsome battle, as chaos and fury consumed them both. Human limbs were torn apart, their awful screams of pain and terror mixed with gore. Werewolves' blood was spilled, loud growls and battle cries stormed through the night. The battle was so fierce, terrifying and filled with hate that it would be regarded as the last. It lasted the whole night and werewolves overpowered the hunters as in most cases. They drove the defeated away from their homes and further into the civilized cities. Silverfang held his wounded friend in his arms and watched him take his last breath. “I tried… I tried…” were his last words. He pressed the mortal wound on Jack to help slow down the serious bleeding, but the cut was too deep. The Alpha felt immense pain when his bright red eyes turned into a deep blue. His loud woeful howl humbled the rest of his pack, who immediately stopped to surround him. “I never wanted this, he was my friend.” Silverfang laid down his now dead friend on the soft bed of grass. His ceremony was disrupted by a sudden cry of a baby not so far from the hunters' camp, where he knelt with the body of his friend. He ordered his men to bury his friend rightfully while he followed the cry of the baby in the woods. Silverfang ran and swinged through trees before reaching the source of the sound. He stopped on the branch of a tree and observed the surrounding area before coming down slowly, careful not to frighten the already perplexed child. He got close enough to study the female baby before tearing off a piece of his clothing, enough to cover the infant. Upon contact with the baby, he felt a queer feeling, almost like a vision but more like a flash of the future. This baby wasn't normal and someone had put it there on purpose. He looked around again to be sure no one was watching him. With his heightened senses, he could detect an ant a few miles away. “Such a frail thing,” he patted her gently to stop her from crying, and she responded quite well. “Ooh you are strong after all.” He added when the baby squeezed one of his huge index fingers with surprising strength for a child. Silverfang, sensing an extraordinary nature within the child, felt a pressing need to ensure her survival with morning approaching. With deliberate caution, he turned the baby sideways and extended three of his claws, delicately marking the infant. Surprisingly, the baby remained unresponsive, not crying or reacting to the injury as Silverfang had anticipated. “Hmm.” He raised an eyebrow and chuckled silently to himself. “Let's get you somewhere safe now.” He wrapped the baby with more pieces of his clothes and strapped her firm around his neck like a baby carrier. Sure that the baby was held tight, he transformed into a four-legged, dog-looking, supernatural beast — a werewolf. As his bones contorted and muscles rippled, a primal force surged through him. Fur bursts forth, dark and untamed, replacing human skin. His hands reshape into powerful claws, and his snout elongates into a fearsome muzzle. A haunting howl escapes his fanged mouth, marking the completion of the shifting from man to wolf. He ran as swiftly as the wind with the child close to his chest, feeling the sharp breeze cutting against his thick black fur and majestic mane. He ran miles upon miles before finally stumbling close to a city. Silverfang was surprised at just how much the human world had changed. He crossed the borders of the thick forest into the city, where he transformed back to a human in the reversed proportion of the initial transformation. His long muzzle retracted back into a fine face, his claws formed back to muscular arms, his mane and fur mystically went back into a fine spotless skin. He found a nearby porch of a big building and gently placed the baby girl there. “They should give you a noble life and a good raise…” he gave the baby one last look before stepping backwards, away from the porch. "Would have taken you with me, but you are not like us, even though you are special. I believe this is a good place for you. A peaceful place, away from hate," he said to the baby as he slowly backed away after picking up a rock and throwing it hard at the gate. He watched as a man dressed in a uniform came out with a barrel gun, observing his premises closely before bending to pick up the mysterious baby. Silverfang stood and waited until he was sure the baby was completely taken into the building before returning to his people. Sunset was now seconds away, and he got to his pack as soon as the sun was clearly in sight. They had completely buried the dead, both humans and werewolves alike, as ordered by their leader. It was a new day, and he had hoped that the werewolf hunters would never return.