Cytheria, Pack Bitch

Part 4 – A Moment of Freedom, and Alteria’s Conversion

Part 1 – Childhood Terror

Cytheria was bored. This was her fourth class in a row, and on such a beautiful spring day, there should have been a law against keeping pretty little twelve year old girls in a boring old school, even if they were blonde mages and needed to be educated and trained, so they could use their magic to protect the people of her Teleria from the monsters. It just wasn’t right, she thought.

Outside, the air was warm and sunny. She could hear the insects clicking and clacking, the birds trilling. The warm breeze blew aside the gauzy white curtains from the tall windows in the classroom, and it carried with it the nearly intoxicating scent of flowers and growing grains. Cytheria inhaled deeply, the aromas reminding her, though sorrowfully, of home, the home that was now gone, destroyed like so many others, by bands of the marauding Monstrum species that had been terrorizing the lands for so long. The Corpsum Gorillas had come down out of the foothills that horrible night, setting fire and killing; wanton destroyers of anything peaceful and harmonious. She closed her eyes in sorrow, bowing her head as she did.

It had been a cool, crisp autumn night, and the stars were out in the millions, it seemed. The sleepy village was quiet, many of the small families having settled in after dinner. They spent much of the day harvesting their grain and maize fields, the men and older boys working quickly, the women and younger children keeping a watchful eye on the horizons. As the golden sun set, the families hurried home, and smoke from the cooking fires in each small home soon spiraled over the small village as each family set in to eat, tell stories, and finally take to bed after the long hard day. Calm settled in over the sleepy burg.

The raid came unexpectedly in the deep of night. Fearsom roars of battle and the thunderous stamping of hundreds of brown, hairy feet foretold the murderous band’s approach. Families throughout the town awoke in horror as the wave of beastly ugliness crashed over the sleepy town. The little golden haired girl, not even nine years old at the time, had watched in horror as the huge ugly beasts had thundered into the small village, knocking down her home’s flimsy door and bursting into the little cabin her father Artemis had built for them all.

She could hear other cabins and huts being breached as well, as the band of monsters targeted each candle-lit window. She and her little sister Alteria huddled in fright, hidden deep in the corner shadows, clutching each other and sobbing gently. It was horrible. One ugly brute viciously swiped a huge, hairy paw at her older brother Troilus as he tried to defend his sisters, knocking his trim body aside, his head cracking ominously against a corner of the window frame, his body falling senseless in a heap, blood streaming from his nose.

They watched in terror, breath caught in their throats as their father fought bravely against the overwhelming odds, the stronger beasts toying with him as he lashed out at them, holding a stout piece of ironwood in his hands, batting at them repeatedly and shouting at them like growling dogs. The snarls and grunts of the huge beasts reverberated around in the small cabin, as they shattered the rustic furniture, laying waste to the small rooms, overturning food storage casks, sweeping cutlery and belongings from the tabletops. One large white beast in particular was combatting Artemis, lashing out with his strong arms to grasp the ironwood and wrench it out of the human hands, and then reaching with the other arm to throttle the poor defender, a huge hairy paw clutching the man’s neck. His body was picked up right off the floor, legs kicking, but the ogre was simply too strong, and Cytheria watched in horror, shielding her little sister’s vision, as the life was squeezed out of their brave father before their very eyes. The beast casually dumped the body on the floor and turned, growling. His prize cowered in the far corner, sobbing and screaming in terror.

Cytheria’s mother Leda had screamed in horror watching her husband and mate viciously murdered before her. She scrabbled backwards as the animal turned towards the sound, her heels digging into the hard wood floor, trying to retreat back ...