Moonlight poured from the great full moon adorning the night sky.
“R-run—! Aaaaargh!”
The Count’s army, arrayed before the fortress, scattered like paper before the charge of the Carved Tusk Tribe on their werewolves. The Carved Tusks did not stop there, pressing on into the fortress itself.
“Protect the First Prince!”
Duce fled into the fortress as his knights crashed into the oncoming Tusk Tribe.
“Stick to the plan! This is the final gambit!”
As Duce’s knights halted the Tusks, Eshu’s and Tataka’s soldiers surged from all sides. Under the pouring moonlight, there was no escape. A chaotic lee erupted, dragging everyone into its maw.
As Sevha watched the scene from the tower above, Legra ran to him.
“Lord Sevha! The witch says it’s ti to begin!”
Sevha imdiately checked his gear. The quiver and handaxe at his waist. The several daggers strapped to his chest. The bow on his back.
Sothing’s missing.
Sevha scratched at his bare neck. A roar echoed from below the tower.
Awoooooo!
The roar mingled with those of the werewolves, yet it was wilder, more wolf-like than any of theirs. Hearing it, the Carved Tusks, filled with ecstasy, swung their weapons with even greater savagery.
It was a frenzy born of religious fervor, one that ignored their disadvantage in numbers.
So they were mad from the very beginning.
Sevha spotted Achuk on his werewolf amidst the lee.
Achuk was still bleeding from the raw sockets where his eyelids and nose had been. As blood painted his face, Achuk’s eyes, redder still, found Sevha on the tower.
Imdiately, Achuk spurred his werewolf toward the tower.
“Legra. Tell the magus I’m beginning.”
“Underst—!”
Achuk and his werewolf burst through the tower door.
“Ah… Lord Sevha? Am I supposed to get past that?”
The next instant, Sevha tucked Legra under his arm and threw himself from the tower. The mont he landed in a pile of hay below, Sevha tossed the boy to the ground.
“There.”
“N-Next ti, a little warning, please!”
Legra scrambled away as a roar echoed, followed by a trendous crash as sothing landed in the hay pile.
CRUMP!
It was Achuk and his werewolf. The beast could not withstand the impact of the fall; all its legs were broken. As it collapsed, Achuk dismounted and grabbed the werewolf’s head.
RRRIP!
He tore the skin from its face and pulled the grisly mask over his own. A mixture of his own blood and the werewolf’s stread from beneath the skin.
The first trap…
Recalling the plan he had made with Teresse, Sevha ran into the heart of the lee. He imdiately heard the heavy stomp of Achuk’s feet behind him and the sound of a greatsword cleaving the air.
Sevha threw himself into a slide, passing under a werewolf in front of him. The mont he cleared it, Achuk’s greatsword cleaved the beast in two.
Achuk charged through the bisected corpse, through blood and flesh, lunging for Sevha.
Then…
“Sevha!” Tataka lunged forward, blocking the greatsword with his iron spear.
“The first!” Sevha roared.
From all over the fortress, Baren and his Hunters appeared and loosed their bows. The arrows flew over the heads of those locked in the lee, and from the pouches attached to them, crimson blood rained down.
The Tusks, struck by the downpour, beca even more frenzied.
Just as Teresse predicted.
Sevha ran back into the fray. A mont later, there was a crash, and Tataka went tumbling past him.
He’s coming.
Sevha glanced back to see Achuk right behind him, lowering his stance.
Achuk swung the greatsword in a diagonal arc, like a wolf swiping with its paw.
Sevha dove over a line of soldiers just as the greatsword tore through them.
Drenched in their blood, Achuk burst through and swung the greatsword in a wide, horizontal sweep.
An instant later, Eshu appeared, blocking the blade with his shield. “My Lord! The second!”
The hunters again loosed arrows carrying pouches of blood in all directions. Blood rained down once more.
The howls of the Tusks turned from joy to ecstatic screams.
Sevha ran again. Everything that passed him was stained crimson. They killed and died, painting one another in ever deeper shades of red.
Just one more…
Sevha ducked into a corridor within the ruined fortress.
But Duce was standing there, leaning on a cane.
“Why are you—!”
Before Sevha could finish, Achuk entered the corridor. He hurled his greatsword toward Sevha—and toward Duce, who stood in the sa line of fire.
The instant he heard the very air split, Sevha grabbed Duce and rolled aside. The greatsword slamd into the wall to their left.
Sevha checked on Duce, who was coughing, his face wet with tears. When Duce saw Sevha looking, he flinched, then glared, furious at having shown such weakness.
Just then, Achuk roared and charged them. Sevha threw himself aside again, pulling Duce with him.
Achuk charged past them and slamd into the opposite wall.
CRASH!
Ignoring the impact, he tore the greatsword from the stone and turned back toward them.
“Wh-What is that thing!”
Hearing Duce speak without a trace of his usual theatrical, epic tone, Sevha had to laugh.
“Why are you laugh—My tone isn’t the important thing right now!”
“True. What’s important is that your presence has complicated my plan.” Sevha handed a dagger to Duce. “The ceiling.”
“What?”
Duce looked up and saw a rope stretched across the ceiling, with pouches dangling from it.
“We need to provoke him even more. The rope is tied to the wall at the far end of the corridor. Cut it.”
“Y-You want to do it?”
“Would you rather hold him off?”
“I am not a knight from so tale, I am a hunchback!”
“And?” Sevha t Duce’s gaze, his voice devoid of hesitation. “Do it if you want. Don’t if you don’t.”
Duce would sooner die than admit he did not want to. He gritted his teeth and began to shuffle backward.
Then…
“Hurry, First Prince.”
Sevha drew his handaxe and swung. It t the greatsword of Achuk, who had closed the distance in an instant.
CLANG!
The impact sent Sevha tumbling backward, overwheld by the force.
He’s a two-legged behemoth…
To keep Achuk’s attention off Duce, Sevha scrambled to his feet and advanced.
Achuk roared and brought his greatsword down. Sevha twisted aside, dodging the blade.
The greatsword struck the floor, and Achuk used his monstrous strength to imdiately swing it sideways. Sevha ducked under the blade.
A fraction of an inch. A desperate dance on a razor’s edge, where a single touch ant death.
As Sevha continued this dance, he glanced back and saw Duce had finally reached the end of the corridor.
Perhaps Achuk read his glance.
Awoooooo!
Achuk howled and tried to charge past Sevha, straight for Duce. Sevha gritted his teeth and slamd his body into Achuk. The impact sent him flying to the far end of the corridor, skidding across the floor.
When Sevha ca to a stop and lifted his head, Duce was standing before the rope, dagger raised.
“Seeing you fly here in an instant makes my effort feel rather aningless.”
“And your heart?”
“My heart?”
“Your heart is satisfied, isn’t it?”
At Sevha’s words, Duce gave a small, satisfied smile, then struck the rope with the dagger. It snapped, and blood from the pouches drenched the corridor.
Sevha, Duce, Achuk—the whole place ran red.
Achuk shuddered, his roar turning into an unearthly shriek.
“He seems even more savage,” Duce said. “Is this all right?”
“No. But it’s part of the plan.” Sevha pushed Duce toward the wall and taunted Achuk. “Co, Wolf. The Hawk is here.”
As Achuk’s eyes fixed on him again, Sevha ran up a flight of stairs.
Running, he glanced out through a breach in the fortress wall. The Carved Tusks, drenched head to toe in crimson, were slaughtering their enemies with no regard for their own bodies.
Faith or madness, it’s reached its peak. This is the turning point.
To bring the plan to its climax, Sevha burst through the door before him.
For a mont, moonlight flooded in, blinding him. When his vision cleared, he saw the empty expanse of the ramparts. He walked toward the end of the wall, toward the tower.
As he did, Achuk appeared on the ramparts behind him. He saw the Tusks’ frenzy below and let out a roar of approval. The Carved Tusks beca even more ecstatic, their frenzy escalating.
As their fervor reached its zenith, Sevha turned to face Achuk.
He called out, “It’s ti to raise the curtain, Moon Princess.”
anwhile, Duce tumbled out from inside the fortress. The Knight of Ornant imdiately rushed to the First Prince’s side.
“Your Highness! Are you unhard?”
“I am… I am fine! Fine!”
Duce was still gasping for breath, exhilarated, when the ceaseless roars suddenly ceased. He looked up at the now-silent ramparts.
Set before the great full moon, the wall looked like a stage. On it stood Sevha and Achuk, facing one another.
And then…
“Such beauty.”
Teresse stood behind Sevha. She wore a black dress with a red shawl draped over it. The wind stirred her black hair, revealing eyes of red.
Taking in the sight of Teresse, a vision of black and red, Duce spoke the na.
“The Moon Princess.”
The mont he saw her and thought of the Moon Princess, the world fell utterly silent. When Duce looked around, he saw the Carved Tusks staring up at Teresse as if they were an audience in their seats.
Then, they began to weep.
The Carved Tusks wept as if they were witnessing a scene from their dreams, and they began to swing their weapons once more.
Having thought of the Moon Princess himself, Duce understood why they wept.
“The Tusk warrior on the wall is Eirang,” he murmured. “The young lord of Blanc is Diaka, and that woman plays the role of the Moon Princess. This… it’s a scene from the myth itself.”
To the Tusks, lost in religious fervor, the sight of Achuk approaching Teresse was the mont just before their dream was realized. They fought with greater ferocity, seeking to aid the Moon-chasing Wolf in tearing the Moon Princess to pieces.
“The enemy has grown more savage!” his knight exclaid. “Why would the young lord do this…?!”
Duce, as captivated by the scene on the wall as any Tusk warrior, knew the answer.
“The scene where Eirang is defeated by Diaka, failing to tear apart the Moon Princess. What will happen when the fanatics of the wolf see that?”
Seeing the Knight of Ornant’s look of disbelief, Duce answered his own question.
“They will despair and break. The young lord of Blanc has created a situation where defeating that one warrior will end the entire battle.”
Just then, Achuk howled at the sight of Teresse. He howled with such force that the maw of the wolf skin he wore gaped open and snapped shut.
In response, to plunge the Tusks deeper into their faith, Teresse began to recite lines from the myth.
“The Moon-chasing Wolf stains the earth red with madness, and its light has stained even my eyes red with that sa madness.”
Sevha, too, played his part, standing guard before Teresse as she spoke.
“Before now stands the one who oversees souls for judgnt. I ask this of you. And I promise.”
From behind, Teresse wrapped her arms around Sevha’s neck, bringing her face close to his.
“On the day my eyes lose their red light of madness and shine gold once more, I will beco your companion. In exchange for this, I ask for your protection.”
For a fleeting mont, Sevha’s golden eyes were reflected in her red ones.
“I swear it,” he declared.
As Teresse stepped back, the shawl she had tied around his neck fluttered in the wind. Now, he was perfectly prepared.
Sevha turned to Achuk. Achuk’s eyes t his. Though utterly lost to madness, he spoke his line from the myth.
“I will tear down the moon.”
Sevha recited his own. “You will not approach the moon.”
And so, the opening scene of the myth was complete.
Sevha and Achuk charged one another, clashing before the great full moon.
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