The room was a large, impeccably clean living space, with three beds and even a small table and an attached bathroom. But the main point of interest was not the room, but what was just down the hallway. At the end, past the last few doors the led to personal rooms, was a changing room, and beyond that…

“How is it so warm!?” Sandy said as she hesitantly stepped into the steaming pool. The inn was surrounded by various separate hot pools, and each had its own section of building and personal rooms that could use it. Thanks to Hal’s help, our section seemed to be empty except for ourselves, so we had this pool all to ourselves. It was lined on either side by tall wooden fences, but the side facing away from the building itself was open, leading off a cliff and giving a scenic view of the woods below. Though, since it was already dark, it was the clear night sky in which the brightest of the stars were now appearing that drew the eye.

We were all wearing the light white garments found in our room for hot pool usage, and eased into the water which was startlingly hot at first touch, but the perfect temperature when submerged. While Sandy played around a short distance away, watching the small green frogs that hopped around the rocks surrounding the pool, I sat under the water near Cris.

“I can’t help but be curious what made you come along,” I said to her. “A lot happened…”

I was frankly somewhat worried about her mental state. As strong-willed as she might be, all things needed time to process. I wasn’t sure how best to ask about it.

“I had a talk with Varus early this morning,” Cris said, frowning as she idly swept about the water. “It made me realize that if I stayed there at home after that, I’d go crazy. Varus might be able to turn around and focus on the next job, but I—I know that there’s something calling for me.”

“And that something is in the Capital?” I asked.

“No clue. But there’s something else as well.”

I waited for her to expand, but she didn’t.

“Don’t want to talk about it?” I asked.

“I do,” Cris sighed. “I want to know if I’m thinking too much and making up nonsense. But it makes me so mad, and I didn’t want to act in that frame of mind…”

“Is it about the ring?” I asked. Cris looked surprised—seemed like I was right. I only remembered the one time she acted abnormally angry, and it was when she picked up the silver ring in the cellar.

Cris sighed and held up her right hand to show me. Her middle finger and ring finger each had a matching silver ring worn on it. They both had complex patterns along their length and a small green or white gemstone embedded in them.

“One of these was the one I found in the cellar. This one, with the green gem. It belonged to Holly… it was a present to her from Rea,” Cris explained. “And this one,” she pointed to the other, “I watched fall from the bag of a soldier passing through Amsterid.”

In Cris’s expression was a deep rage that was being kept under control only through her determination to transform it into action.

“I’m guessing that one was given to Rea, by Holly,” I said.

“Yeah. They aren’t especially valuable—they were bought by those girls when they were just 12, or 13. And they exchanged them, promising to marry when they were older. At least, that’s what Rea told me, though when I asked Holly she said they would just stay best friends and live together. Hehe, she was really shy about it, but I could tell how happy it made her.” Cris smiled bitterly.

“I see,” I said. I didn’t need Cris to explain why that soldier’s bag might have had that ring.

“They only resorted to entering the cellar to escape from something that posed a threat. Something that wasn’t complacent with just taking valuables,” Cris said. “I’m going to find and kill that something.”

Cris was looking away from me. She might’ve been afraid of seeing how I’d react to her emotion. But I could sympathize… no, I could empathize. I could empathize deeply, but that was all I could do right now.

“… Guys, I hope that when Hal said that we shouldn’t go outside, he didn’t mean here too,” Sandy piped in, having come over with a concerned look.

“Seems fine to me,” I said. “Is something wrong?”

Sandy didn’t say anything, but looked over towards where the rocks turned into a sheer cliff, dropping off into darkness. I listened carefully and noticed a distinct sound, like of something striking rock. It was getting closer.

And then a large, furry paw with three thick, brutally serrated claws grabbed hold of the edge. Something pulled itself up over the edge—in its ragged silhouette, yellow shining eyes like that of a cat stared down the three of us. The creature let out a feral snarl.

-=-

Hal was led through the forest with a knife at his back. Lucy, unfortunately clothed again in her maid outfit, led in front, while the old man was at his back. All things considered, at least he got the nicer view of the two options, Hal thought.

“Though, I still don’t believe you’re a werewolf, Lucy,” Hal said, as if they were having a casual conversation. “I saw you use magic right in front of me.”

“Oh, did I?” Lucy giggled.

“At least I’m sure you didn’t have anything in your hands to make that fire blaze up,” Hal said. “You want me to believe that was just once-in-a-lifetime fortunate timing? A gust of wind just came through the chimney hole, convincing me you could only be human?”

Despite his casual demeanour, Hal was a bit irritated that he had been fooled into dropping his guard. To his displeasure, the old man behind him answered him this time.

“’Tis not jus’ mothe’ nature alone tha’ can make tha wind howl,” he cackled.

Hal thought back to that moment, and the moment before it. Lucy had fallen into a pile of crates, creating a loud noise that could have easily been heard from outside.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. That was a signal?” Hal muttered, half to himself. “And you were just waiting inside, old man? But that couldn’t be—“

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re dealing with naught but an old fool and a girl,” a suave voice came from somewhere in the trees.

“Understood,” Hal said. “Still, I didn’t notice you moving around at all, old man.”

“That’s because you think I was just messing around in there,” Lucy said. “Well, half of it was messing around, heheh. Think about it on your own time, we’re here.”

In the now dense woods, they came to a clearing near a small lake. A patch of land rose up and slightly over the lake, and amongst the wild, tall grass there, was an enormous shape that made no identifiable sense to Hal.

He looked around, but Lucy and the old man were suddenly nowhere to be seen. The full moon was reflected beautifully amongst the slight ripples of the lake, and its light glinted off a contraption in front of the anomalous shape on the overhang. Hal recognized it after a moment—it was a telescope, much larger than the small, portable ones he had seen before. This one was resting on four sturdy metal legs and was a foot in diameter. The shape expanded and contracted—it was breathing, as it curled around the telescope and peered through the eyepiece at the near end.

Hal’s instincts assured him that he’d be carved into pieces if he ran back into the trees, so he carefully approached the large shape. It was a giant beast covered in wild, ragged brown fur, and the function of its organs made distinct grumbling noises as they breathed in and expelled air. As Hal ascended the overhang and came into talking distance with the creature, he spotted the part that was its head. One blood red eye looked into the eyepiece, and the other stared at him. A great jaw furnished with spiked teeth opened as it spoke to him.

“Hal, is it?” It’s voice was deep and seemed to rumble through the ground to reach Hal’s ears.

“That’s my name, sir,” Hal said. He felt no opening here to speak without reverence.

“You came to know of the presence of Werewolves in Lupich. You took it upon yourself to investigate their operation. Finally, you stand before the Lord of the Werewolves. Do you comprehend the purpose of your path that has led here? Are you aware of what will be your next step on your path?”

“I… will be killed?” Hal offered.

“The Lunar Blackout has already begun,” the creature said in the same prophetic manner. “How many believe the blackout to be a spectacle of a moment, and how few know the blackout to be an ever-present God, an omniscient miracle that comes to fruition now, offering a dew drop of a hint by its unnatural diffraction of the light and dark of the sky.”

“I, uh,” Hal stammered. “The blackout? Do you know what it is?”

Hal didn’t have much of an interest in what the blackout signified—it was just another of nature’s mysterious occurrences, like earthquakes. But even he could recognize the significance of discovering more about something of this kind.

“Look through the eyepiece,” the creature ordered, slithering out of the way with an impossible swiftness. Its body still encircled the area around Hal, and claws taller than Hal himself glinted within the shape. Hal rigidly approached the telescope and, as ordered, looked through the eyepiece.

After a moment of orienting himself, Hal figured that he was looking at a point right next to the moon in the sky. The moon just touched the edge of the right side of the view, and its shine illuminated the blackness in central focus.

Just then—there was a flash for just an instant. And then a few seconds later, there was another flash. And then another, and another—this time his brain recognized that it was a rectangle shape, and it was reflecting the light of the sun just as the Moon did. Even more so, in fact. Hal stopped looking through the eyepiece and looked up at the Moon, but those flashes were utterly impossible to sight with the naked eye.

“What are these flashes, indeed,” the beast spoke. “What are these objects, indeed, rather. What is this process, this operation, this system, rather. My mind is subject to this question and questions that relate to this question, and little else.”

The creature’s head approached Hal and spoke to him directly, quietly.

“I wish to conjecture in peace, Hal. My sanctuary must not be upset by investigation.”

“So, I’m here to be killed after all,” Hal sighed.

“Hal,” the creature said. “My kin have ceased to respect my authority. They kill. Not animals, not for meat. Humans, for entertainment. They draw your attention. They draw the attention of others. My body is aged and my mind is wilted by curiosity, so I draw again upon the assistance of a human. The killing of humans must stop.”

Hal gulped. This was becoming more complicated than he imagined.