The Revenge of the Wicked Wolf

[Brother Prime]

He had heard the whispers, among the faithful and those less so. They had called her many things, but the murders had been labeled, and it seemed, to him, a respectable title. The Revenge of the Wicked Wolf.

It had started nearly a month ago, and thus far saw no signs of stopping. Those murdered, save one, had been of his flock. The Wolf had come to thin the herd it seemed. That was alright, their numbers were strong enough to survive such a culling.

She would kill until there was nothing left, no more rage, no more sorrow, no more...anything. He believed she would kill until she herself was killed. Perhaps, that was what she wanted. If that were the case, he might find himself inclined to oblige her.

Thin fingers toyed at his throat, for a moment, as he thought, and came away again. She was troublesome, this Ariane Emory, but then he had known her as trouble from the first time he had laid eyes on her. From the first time Thadius Dhrin had brought her into their fold. It was a pity Thadius had loved her so deeply. She would have been dead a long time ago.

Still, the murders were unimportant to him for the time being. The Chosen One had been found, and subdued. His transformation was nearly complete, and He would find forgiveness for them all through him.

With a deep sigh, he rose from his chair, making his way down the stone passage toward the room that held the Chosen One. Progress had been made and it was time to see how much work lay yet ahead.

[Fawn Mourning]

Fawn sat at the feet of his chair, his crimson robes swirling around her offering the comfort of a small bird in its nest. The lamplight glittered softly over her myriad of silver rings, lending her face a near starlight quality. The slender hand of Brother Prime stroked the intricate pattern of scars upon her shaved head.

"What shall we do now, Brother?"

It was a small voice, a smaller question, in the depths of the stone caverns. A smile lit the hidden features of the man who sat beside her. There was an ominous silence as she waited for his answer.

"Now, Sister Fawn, we wait. Nothing more. For now, our work is finished. Now he shall go to them, and we shall see what answers this one shall bring...from Him. You have done well, Sister. He shall see your devotion, and you will be rewarded."

With a strength belying the apperance of his hands, he drew the tiny woman into his lap, holding her close, as he sung softly in smooth dulcet tones. A song only they would know, only the devoted. A song of forgivness, acceptance, and bloodshed.

[Brother Prime]

There had been silence in the chambers of Brother Prime for nearly a week now. Though his presence was rarely made known to the Order, those who served him personally had not seen him in perhaps five days. The trays of food they brought for him were left in front of his door, untouched. His door remained barred, Attempts to enter were only greeted with more silnce.

This evening, as the moon began to rise, there was suddenly, and violently, proof that Brother Prime was indeed within those walls.

"SIMON!"

The single word echoed through the corridors like the shriek of a banshee, then silence fell once more. A few minutes later the large man moved toward Prime's chambers with a speed belying his girth. A hand which resembled a leg of lamb more than a fist, fell upon the door.

"Brother Prime? Simon."

A man of few words, Simon. As the heavy lock fell away, the door creaked open. Prime was returning to his chair, singing softly beneath his breath. A song they all knew. A song Fawn had sung to Simon on many nights when the nightmares had become too much to bear.

As Prime curled into his throne-like seat, the crimson robes fell around him like a curtain of blood. The hooded head of Prime looked out at Simon, a slender hand motioning him to be seated.

"You. You know what she has done. You of all people feel what has happened to us as much as I. You will hunt her. You will hurt her. Eventually, we will kill her. I want her to know the pain of what she has done. I want her to understand what it feels like to have a part of you die. Can you do that for me, Simon?"

Simon nodded once.

"Good. Now, send the messengers. There will be a ceremony in three days time. I want the Chosen One here. If it can be managed, I want the Wicked Wolf here. I want her to see again, Simon. I want her to remember."

Simon rose then, nodding again to Prime, before moving out of the chamber to do as he was bid. The messengers were dispatched. Through out the night , unnoticed by most, upon the cornerstones of several buildings in town would be a tiny coal drawing of an eye, followed by three lines. Those who needed to know, would understand.

As Prime moved to lock his door, a shadow once more graced the theshold.

"I am seeing none this day. I mourn."

A gentle laughter came from the shadows, a laughter Prime knew.

"Oh you will see me, Brother. You will see me. You will hear my words, for I speak for Him."

Thadius Dhrin stepped within, closing the door behind him. The lock fell heavy, and once more...silence.