The Six Souls of Solum Island

A loud roar echoed throughout the Island. Sounds of heavy footsteps could be heard from a distance as a young man ran passed trees after trees, skillfully dodging the roots. The snow colored wolf running ahead of him paused, causing him to halt as well. They were right in the middle of the forest, where the trees rose high enough to block out the purple-blue sky. “Ame, what are you doing?" the man hissed at the large werewolf. Instead of answering, the werewolf just stared at the man with its dull eyes. Without warning, its bones began cracking, causing the man to take a step back. The werewolf's limbs twist and turned unnaturally before it dropped onto the floor. And in place of snow like fur were human skin. Ame released a low animalistic growl, before answering, "It's tracking my scent." He stood back up slowly in his human form, turning to the man. The man's mismatched eyes shone in frustration, "Are you telling me, it's been following us because of you?” “Calm yourself, Tre," Ame said wearily, "I can feel your eyes changing.” With the words in the air, the man – Tre – looked away, blinking furiously to stop his black-white eyes from glowing. “What are we going to do? We can't go to her without it following us." There was anger in Tre's voice, laced with a thin layer of fear that worried Ame. Tre never got scared, ever. But perhaps the fear was not for himself, rather it was directed to a certain someone who had the ability to make Tre's stagnant heart beat again. “It's following my scent. I'll run the other way while you go to her.” Silence occupied the air. The creature chasing after them had stopped roaring, which only meant it was busy tracking them. There was no other choice for Ame. Tre looked at his little brother, the boy who had endured so many harsh trials by his side throughout his life. The boy who was an outcast for being cursed. The boy who wanted to abandon his family to live with the wolves. And now, after today, the boy will be dead. There was no hesitation for Tre, there never was. The only sense of affection Ame will ever get from his brother was the nod of acknowledgement before his brother ran off and left him in death's hands. Ame inhaled, at least his brother's scent will linger with him when he dies. Barely a second passed before a creature jumped out from the bushes. It pounced onto Ame, knocking him off guard. He smelled the foul stench, burning his senses. With a strangled cry, he pushed the creature off of him, throwing it a few yards back. It snarled at him and he could feel the familiar increase in his heart rate. He'd been in many battles with creatures before, won in many, survived in some but for this one, this was where it would all end. The creature roared again, changing the air currents surrounding them. He could hear the leaves rustling vigorously and it was then he managed to identify what creature was standing before him. A Questing Beast. Ame could visualize it in his head as it came closer to him. Its body resembling like a leopard, trying to pin him down while it's snake-like head moved closer to devour him. Perhaps if he was in his werewolf form he might have had a chance to survive, but unfortunately, turning back into his true form took time, time which he did not have. Besides, his werewolf stench was too strong and might alert other unwanted creatures of his presence in the Island. Without warning, it attacked him again, but this time he was able to sense it and roll out of the way. Biting hard onto his thumb, he allowed his white ink-like blood to flow out. He bent down, using his blood to draw a complex design onto the ground. He could feel the charre flowing out of his body and onto the symbols on the floor. It glowed slightly, shifting to resemble a dagger. It took a while for it to materialize and when it did, he skillfully threw it towards the beast's direction. It struck the Questing Beast's belly causing it to yelp. Due to his heightened hearing, its yelp was deafening that he had to distance himself from the source. Harm to any one of his sense could be fatal as those were what he depended on to survive. After all, how else could a cursed blind wolf survive? Although there was venom at the tips of the dagger, the creature had yet to die. Instead, it grew more aggressive than ever, charging head first towards him. The impact struck him causing him to hit a nearby tree which snapped under his weight. Dust flew around the site, visible under the dimming sunlight. The creature wasted no time and started clawing on his body, causing more white blood to spill out. It was a gory sight with deafening screams of a lone werewolf as the beast teared through his organs. There was no way Ame could describe the feeling, the excruciating pain of his body being attacked. The hazy mist which clouded his brain, slowly shutting it down. The cold which swept up from his feet, travelling in his body. It was agonizing. And yet the physical pain wasn't what made him cry out, it was the thought of never being able to be surrounded by the familiar scent of his siblings. It was the thoughts of not being able to run free in the woods anymore. It was the thought of never escaping the chains which tied him to his curse. It was knowing that his big brother would be without a family. And that struck his heart harder than the sharp claws of death. Miles away, Tre heard it. A scream, a cry, a howl; his brother. Tre didn't turn back. He blocked the screams of agony and focused on the narrow path ahead. He was getting closer to the clearing, he could feel it. He could feel her. Another roar broke out, signaling that the Questing Beast had done its job. Its next prey was him, or so it assumed. Tre was never the prey, for there was nothing that could overpower him, the only thing the creature would cost him was his time, time he needed to get to her. An arrow flew towards him, which he easily dodged. He didn't stop running when more and more arrows were shot towards him, he sidestepped each and every one of them without looking back. The showers of arrows stopped and much to his annoyance, a figure dropped down in front of him, blocking his path. It was a criminal, a threatening one, he remembered from the whispers. It had been almost half a century since she was casted down on Earth, yet she still hadn't aged a day. Black robes cascaded down her body, hiding her figure, her hood fell down revealing wavy strands of brown hair. A smug smile made its way to her lips when they made eye contact, "So the legends did not deceive me. You have the eyes of a future King.” He could feel his eyes sting slightly from his emotions boiling up. He hated how unstable his feelings were and how easily taunted he had become. "Who knows," he said, his voice flowing out like silk. With the bow and arrow in her hands, she aimed at him, "Killing the King's firstborn would be a great way to show my appreciation for him, wouldn't you agree?” In a flash, he appeared behind her. The shock in her features made his glowing eyes dull down as his hands wrapped themselves around her neck. Her neck was clammy, throbbing under his fingertips. Without a second thought, he snapped her neck causing her dead body to fall limply on the ground. He had no time to entertain a meaningless battle, no matter how much his body craved for it. Craved for his prey's blood blanketing his hand, to smell the metallic stench enveloping his body, to terrorize them in every possible way. No, he stopped acting on instinct a long time ago. So, he continued on with his journey, the hushes of a river guiding him through the dark forest. The sun had set and darkness began washing out onto the sky. Cold air grazed his skin and yet the adrenaline pumping in his veins kept him warm. He never felt so alive. Gradually, the trees grew less dense and the hushes of the river became louder. The landscape shifted and opened up to a meadow, one located right beside a river. And then, he saw her. The sight of her would forever haunt his mind, something to add to his long list of nightmares. Half of her body was floating on the river while the other half was lying flat on the meadow. A single white flower caressed her cheeks as the wind blew. The dark liquid oozing out her forearm resembled tar, tainting the crystal clear river. Her aqua blue eyes which once stared at him with compassion, understanding, love; were now empty vessels, reflecting sunrays on them like how oceans do. He stared. Minutes passed by and yet he couldn't grasp time, it was as though everything was on pause. He continued staring. The sky was starless, and he wondered if it had always been that way. He continued staring. The flowers were wilting, he wondered if anyone noticed. He continued staring. Breathing was hard, he wondered why he wasn't inhaling. All at once the world spun, faster than he could ever catch up to, faster than light could ever travel, faster than his heart pounding. Everything was chaotic around him, everything was moving, or maybe he was. Perhaps it was him running towards her, but he couldn't feel his legs. Because it was all so confusing, and because it all hurt his mind, and because it all shattered his dead heart. He screamed. At the top of his lungs, he screamed. He didn't stop, he never did. Grief overwhelmed him, causing a strange sensation to fill his eyes. On that night, by the witness of fading stars and dead flowers, he cried. It was then all self-control was lost and his mismatched eyes ignited.