“This is all very exciting! We have never been treated to an after-dinner show before,” my mother says as we take our seats in the open-air theatre.
I take a moment to look around the circular structure, which is now rapidly filling up with the citizens of Morween. Rows upon rows of high elves. Men, women and children who have come out tonight to be entertained by the first-ever Culling stage performance.
The stage, set up in the center circle, is lit with a soft glow but remains empty at the moment. Just then, I see a swish of color appear before us, and I rise to my feet to greet Queen Siofra.
“Your Majesty, this is a wonderful celebration,” my mother compliments sincerely.
“Thank you, Iriel. I hope you and Haleth enjoyed the feast?” the queen enquires with a kind smile.
“Absolutely, Your Majesty.”
Then, the queen turns her attention to me, and I bow my head respectfully before she takes both of my hands in hers.
“Eden, you grow more beautiful by the year. Tell me, how are your studies coming along?”
“Very well, thank you, Your Majesty.”
She smiles, giving my hands a light squeeze.
“That is good to hear. Another few decades, and I think you may just be the new number-one healer and herbologist in Morween!”
“Perhaps my father might disagree,” I joke, causing her to laugh lightly in return.
“You are a fine young woman, Eden,” she finishes before winking with a glint in her sapphire-colored eyes.
She then takes her leave, and I breathe in relief as we retake our seats.
“Haleth! The show is about to begin!” my mother calls out to my father, who is chatting with his colleagues a few feet away.
He turns to acknowledge us and begins to head toward his seat. “Are you still doing okay there, Pia Náre?” he asks as he sits on my right-hand side.
“Hanging in there.” I smile as he nudges his shoulder against mine.
Suddenly, the lights in the outdoor theatre disappear entirely, and the place is plunged into partial darkness. Only the light of the moon and the sparkling stars remain.
The crowd goes silent, watching with interest as the stage now fills with actors. The first scene begins with the sound of a roaring fire. The stage is illuminated orange by the flames that lick against the background scene, which has been set up to look like an Elven village. Ear-piercing, harrowing screams emanate through the air as giant wolf beasts ravage the Elven town, the dramatic music adding to the atmospheric horror of it all.
I watch the entire thing with my eyes wide open. Elves falling to the ground in death, children being ripped from their mother’s arms and killed as they attempt to flee, and wild beasts attacking innocents with zero hesitation. Those vile, horrific, loathsome creatures! The unprovoked atrocities those poor elves suffered make my blood boil with anger!
The play then tells the story of those brutal years at war. The actors playing King Ciridan and Queen Siofra do so quite convincingly; they have even altered their appearances to look alike.
And then it hits me like a punch to the gut.
Erix.
There he is in all his glory, walking to the center of the stage to take a starring role in the next act. The crowd is treated to seeing him fight valiantly on the battlefield, and tears threaten to spill from my eyes as I take in his every move. It all seems so real. Too real, in fact.
I look into the crowd, where my eyes meet with Aubrun’s as he watches me intently. “Are you okay?” his lips mouth subtly while a look of concern covers his face. I nod and quickly try to pull myself together, looking back to the stage at the exact moment that depicts Erix’s death.
The death of a valiant young prince who was taken far too soon.
I watch as the stage turns silent and solemn. The colors around us turn dark and gray. Even the temperature in the air seems to drop by a few degrees. I swallow hard as a few gentle sobs ring through the theatre. Reliving his death again like this is not something I thought I would ever have to do.
Thankfully, the scene comes to an end, and their final act depicts the moment of The Culling. Relief washes over me when I realize that we are almost near the end of this horror show.
The last act depicts the king and his advisors setting their plan in motion by releasing a deadly series of toxins around the kingdom, designed to protect our people from more horrific attacks by them. Cheers ring out around me as the “wolves” on stage fall to their demise, breathing in the toxic air and dropping like flies. The chants and cheers get louder as the rowdy crowd rejoices in their memories of our victory, but I stay silent. Rooted to the spot as my eyes focus on one actor in particular. A child actor. A little wolf who falls to the ground to land unceremoniously by their dead mother’s side.
Bile threatens to rise in my throat. Somewhere in my hazy mind, I see my father look away from the stage, closing his eyes and dropping his head.
The sounds of laughing and cheering become overwhelming, making me feel like I am drowning.
It’s then that something inside of me snaps, and I realize that I can’t take this anymore. I stand up abruptly, taking my parents by surprise.
My mother tugs on my hand. “Eden?”
“I’m not feeling well. I’m going to bed. I’ll see you both in the morning.”
“I’ll walk you back—” my father begins, but I shake my head insistently, my fiery will winning the fight without much effort.
Quickly, I shuffle out of my seat, navigating the boisterous crowd to make my way toward the exit. I take off in a run, gasping for air as laughter and cheers echo in the night. I cannot even consider returning to my bedroom; instead, I take the path to the forest. Its calming silence is precisely what I need right now. The further away I get from the palace, the greater my ability to breathe again. My heart begins to slow down, my stomach returns to normal, and my head no longer feels like it is about to explode. I come to a halt in the middle of a small clearing and lean back against the cool bark of a tree, closing my eyes as I breathe in the fresh air.
What an awful evening.
Reliving the mass killing of innocent elves, the memories of my aunt and Erix’s death were all so distressing and unnecessary. But what is more surprising is my reaction to seeing the scenes portraying The Culling. In my mind, I have never for one moment doubted that wolves were vicious creatures. My people were tormented and killed at their hands for years. My own future happiness was stolen from me because of them. But when I saw it with my own eyes…when I saw that little wolf child fall... It made me sick to my stomach.
Just then, I hear the snap of twigs and the rustling of leaves a few feet away. I frown in confusion, carefully turning around to press my chest against the tree as I peek around its thick trunk.
My eyes widen at the sight of a man in the distance. I can’t make out his features from this far away, but I can see him looking toward the palace through the trees, watching and listening intently.
I stay frozen for a moment as I consider the possibilities.
Perhaps he is a wood elf, curious about the festivities going on in Morween or maybe he...I stifle a gasp as my thoughts are interrupted by what I see next. The shadow of the man’s body morphs and changes, rearranging itself into the shape of something horrific.
Something unmistakable.
A wolf.
It can’t be! I shake my head to try to wake myself up from this nightmare.
I’m seeing things! The stress of the evening has caused me to invent this horrid scenario in my head. I’m all but sure of it!
I watch with bated breath as the beast turns away from the palace, taking off in a trot in the opposite direction. I stay completely still for a few more seconds, glancing over my shoulder at the castle.
What if I’m not wrong? What if what I am seeing here tonight with my own two eyes is real? What if...one survived?
My insides fill with dread, but something inside me tells me I must find out more. I make my way out from behind the tree, following the beast from afar, using all my skills from years of hunting and navigating this ancient forest. I follow him over a gully, briefly losing sight of him for a while before I pick up his tracks on the forest floor. I continue hot on his trail, all the while wondering what I will do if it turns out I am right about all of this.
He reaches the brow of a hill up ahead, and I hang back until it’s safe to proceed after him. He seems pretty set in his route. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say he’s heading back toward wherever it is that he calls home.
A moment of clarity makes me stop and look at the ever-growing darkness around me.
What if he isn’t the only one?
What if he isn’t alone?
Quickly, I reconsider my options: I either continue to follow him and risk landing myself in a tricky situation, run for the hills and go straight to King Ciridan with my accusations, or seek the advice of the wisest person I know.
My Grandma. She’ll know what to do!
Having made my decision, I veer right for the village of Azealea, hiking my dress up to run barefoot across the wet forest floor. Then, out of nowhere, a figure steps out in front of me, and I run straight into its path, colliding with what feels like a wall of solid rock. I bounce back and land on my ass, my eyes traveling upward to see the shadowy figure of him. The wolf man.
“Stay away from me,” I growl as I shuffle backward on the muddy ground.
I stumble to my feet just as he lunges for me, and I lift my knee to connect it with his jaw. He lets out a yelp as his head jolts back, but he grabs hold of my ankle with his strong hand, dragging me back down to the ground with a thud. I thrash around wildly as he tries to pin me in place.
“f*****g stay still, elf!”
“Get off of me!” I grit out between my teeth, unwilling to surrender or give up fighting.
He then reaches behind my head, and the last thing I see is a large rock as it comes hurtling down toward my head, knocking me out completely.