Daughter of the Lost Clan

ChapterFour-Among Wolves

Morning came with an opportunity I never imagined I would experience since the night I lost my clan. Perhaps, it was goodwill for healing the stranger from yesterday. By decree of Alpha Valthar of the Runeblood pack, healers were summoned to the fortress to handle the spread of Pale Fever and affected residents within.

Pale Fever had plagued the southern lands for over two months but never reached the fortress because of its isolated nature. I never imagined it would actually affect its residents one day and was certain they didn’t either.

It was a chance I couldn’t pass up on. A lifetime opportunity to infiltrate the fortress and get a close up view of my enemies. I’d make sure to learn about them as much as I could, while keeping my head down.

For years, I’d live as an ordinary healer, hiding my powers and relying on herbs and potions. Coincidentally, it was for this exact reason that I would qualify to enter the fortress.

Packing my bags was swift and easy. I didn’t own more than herbs, grinded roots and some potions after all.

I joined a caravan of travellers heading to the fortress and listened absentmindedly to a story told over the years.

Long ago, humans were the superior species and ruled without challenge, until the birth of a boy who changed everything. He lived an ordinary life with his parents until his teenage years when a monstrous ability surfaced.

He could shapeshift into a wolf. One much bigger, faster and stronger than a regular wolf or any wild creature alive. With his unrivaled strength and size, he became a terror of nature, both to man and beast.

Whether the name came from his parents or the fearful whispers of others was unclear, but he came to be known as Isabinerys. At twenty, his abilities were exposed and his parents helped him escape a murderous mob. They paid for it with their lives.

For the next decade, warriors, adventurers and bounty hunters hunted him down. Isabinerys stayed on the run, clinging to the promise to not harm humanity in honour of his parents.

Different methods and weapons were explored to bring him down but his strength and regenerative healing beat everything humanity has experienced— until silver was found.

In a decisive encounter, he was finally wounded and nearly captured. But just as some humans sought to eradicate him, there were others who sympathised with him.

Soldiers from a distant kingdom intervened, rescuing him and taking him in. The kingdom, Pitora, became the first land to accommodate him and advocate for the peaceful coexistence of humans and what came to be known as werewolves.

The king, childless, adopted Isabinerys as his own son and upon his death, he inherited the kingdom. Isabinerys went on to have two sons who came to be so powerful, the kingdom had to be divided into the northern and southern lands with each ruling one. Werewolves thus ruled over humans in Pitora.

Alpha Valthar is a descendant of Isabinerys’ first born and ruler of the southern lands.

I only opened my eyes when we had reached the gates of the fortress. A long line of people stretched from the gates all the way to where I stood. There must have been nearly a hundred people present. Most in search of better living conditions, I presume.

At the gates, we went through a rigorous search exercise. Weapons and strange substances were confiscated and numbers assigned to everyone. Except for people with dependent relatives, more than one person was not permitted entry.

We filed into the courtyard as directed and waited for what came next.

"Greetings healers, I welcome you all,” a woman spoke from a balcony above us.

She was advanced in age but didn’t look frail in any way. She stood, draped in a dark robe with moon symbols on it.

I had thought the Alpha would address us but I guess I was too optimistic

“I am Mama Yaga, the head healer of Runeblood pack,” she continued. “You’ve traveled far, some more than the others. And for that you have my thanks.”

She paused as if to let us absorb her words.

“Yet, we cannot take all of you. You’ll be put through a test to weed out the unworthy from the qualified. Whoever passes shall remain as healers of Runeblood pack.”

My core tightened. I had gone through rigorous studies in medicine from a young age but I couldn’t help but worry. My mind raced, as different scenarios flashed across my head. Some probable and others merely ridiculous.

“Let your mind be at ease,” she said as if she could read my mind. “It’s merely a question.”

The crowd broke into a wave of murmurs rising all the way to the balcony until she spoke again.

“This test will not be spoken back to me ,” she announced. “You will write your answers.”

Attendants stepped between the rows, handing each healer a thin wax tablet coated with soft ash and a stylus.

"On my question,” Mama Yaga continued, “you will carve your answer. When I call time, you will raise your tablets. Those who demonstrate understanding will remain.”

My stomach tightened. My mind raced. What could she possibly want to ask?

She inhaled, steady and calm.

“Early Pitora healers documented that Isabinerys’ cells resisted most viruses except those that target the nervous system. Pale Fever is a neuroinvasive pathogen. Given this, explain why the earliest symptom appears in the eyes rather than the lungs or skin.”

Silence fell swiftly, but only briefly. The scratch of styluses followed.

Heads bent over their tablets, brows furrowed, lips pressed tight. Some looked lost before they even began carving. Others carved frantically, as though speed could make up for uncertainty.

I steadied my breath, letting memory guide my hand. I thought back to all I had studied before my life became ashes.

The optic nerve is one of the fastest neural pathways, making it the preferred route for Pale Fever.

I carved the explanation quickly but neatly.

“All hands up!” Mama Yaga commanded.

A forest of tablets rose into the air.

Attendants moved swiftly, scanning each answer with trained eyes. Rejection was immediate, groans and quiet curses signaling those whose tablets were dismissed with a shake of the head.

I kept my face smooth, expression unreadable. My tablet was taken, the attendant’s gaze lingering briefly before he nodded and placed it in the accepted stack.

Just like that, my path into the fortress was assured.

Mama Yaga’s voice rang out once more. “Those whose tablets have been accepted, welcome to Runeblood pack. The rest will leave now.

The crowd shifted. Some stood firm. Others turned away, shoulders slumped with defeat.

Just then, a man stepped out beside Mama Yaga. The authority in his posture and the way others around him shifted told his relevance. His jaw was sharp and his deep grey eyes rooted me to the spot.

I looked in awe until I realized something that made me wish I had failed the test. It was the man I healed just days ago. My eyes widened in horror as a hundred different scenarios ran through my mind.

“Healers, I welcome you all,” he spoke. “I am Alaric Runeblood, first son of Alpha Valthar…”

I didn’t listen to the rest of what came next. I couldn’t. In desperation, I wrapped my face in a crimson scarf I had carried around for years.

How cruel of fate that the man I saved and revealed my abilities to turned out to be the first son of the Alpha of the pack that massacred my clan.