"I have a hunch as to who that might have been, but nothing solid," Sebastian mused. "Given the nature of my dealings, I've heard many names in the underground I cannot yet match with faces. Whatever the case, we seem to be mutually aware of each other's existence. No big surprise there. Charming or not, the man is most definitely dangerous."

Considering Mazerine's inquiry as to what the devil implied before he left, Sebastian could offer no more than a shrug. "I only know that when he mentioned the Fall, he was not referring to the season…it…would take a long while to explain. What he could possibly have meant by the moon, I haven't an idea in the slightest, lass."

He was about to commend Mazerine on her conviction, when a small voice interrupted. Sebastian looked this way and that before realizing the stature of the one who spoke and looked down. True to the nature of a full moon, tonight seemed to be filled with things that were not as they seemed. The one who addressed them both appeared to only be a young girl, but anyone with keen senses would be able to tell she was much, much more.
"If I've said it once, I'll say it thrice. I don't know what to expect tonight. Any help you are willing to offer is much appreciated, Celeste."

"Who are you, and why have you sent for me? Was it you that killed these people?"


Inquiries directed at a figure down the moonlit Adeluna street caused it to stir. It had been crouching over one of the bloodied corpses, and now stood upright. At this distance, it could be seen that it was but a man, very dark in complexion, and a burly, yet lithe frame, akin to the man's that questioned him. His tattered clothing was covered in the blood of the bodies that littered the cobblestone. The raw stench of death was overpowering, but more so was that of the blood that accompanied it. The acidic, metallic tinge that hung in the air was amplified by the humidity of the night, still present in this coastal city during the changing of the seasons.

The man approached the trio that stood in the street with an unnerving calm, and a wide, toothy grin. He stopped several feet away when Sebastian threatened to draw a weapon. This was close enough to give him hesitation, for now the finer details of the man could be made out.

A spark of recognition. Confusion. Then fear.

Grin deepening with silent mania, the dark man spoke with an ominous, gravelly voice: "What? Did you think you were special in some way, Sebastian? To have lived in a town that doesn't exist…to be touched as you are by the Beyond. Now only to be a mere familiar….to play the whore to its every beck and call…"

The man took a step closer, locking eyes with Sebastian. They were an exact mirror in hue and intensity. It was unmistakable.


Running his bloodied fingers through his curly hair and shaggy mane of a beard, the man continued to advance as Sebastian stepped back hesitantly.
"Ozziah, I-"


The stranger, this Ozziah, interrupted. "Do you ever stop to wonder why no one has ever heard of our little town?" he asked rhetorically. He paced around him now, and also his two female companions with a decidedly predatory demeanor. "I take it you do still have dreams…it's dying, you know…and when it does, we shall follow. Unless it can be reborn. By grooming one of its dreams with something real, to create a shell."

"Oz, what…"

"Oh, you know damned well what I mean," Ozziah snapped, his tone radically changing from manic rambling to intense irritation. His frown vanished as he then laughed. "You know. Even if you're not aware of it yet."

"Oz, you're clearly not well. Please, let's go somewhere and talk. Tell me more about the Grove. You saw what happened, didn't you…?"

Visions. Visions of fire. Of robes and strange symbols. The light of mother's eyes fading as she clutches your hands so tenderly. Tears sting the cuts and abrasions on your face. Mother promised things would be better when we moved here…from…where had the family come from? Why could you not remember? Had we always lived in the Grove?

You watch as Jareth fends off the intruders valiantly, to his last breath. You take comfort in the dog's last embrace, his fur singed and matted with blood. Hands took hold of your shoulders, but you refused to let go…


Ozziah began to shake his head violently, but stopped and shoved Sebastian away when he was touched.

"You…no, it is you that is not well. You can observe, but you cannot, will not see. It is time to let this dream come to an end, Sebastian."
Ozziah clutched at his arms and itched furiously all over his body. Muscles twitched and writhed, and his breathing became raspy and erratic. Ebony fur sprouted out all over the deranged man's body, and his skeleton and flesh warped and twisted. His skull elongated. His limbs grew, with sickening crackling of sinews. The shape of a werebeast gradually took shape, with the addition of antlers sprouting from the wolf's skull, and the coarse fur fuming with a sort of noxious darkness that radiated like small tendrils. The autumnal gaze that the creature shared with Sebastian glowed with a burnt orange hue.

Having lowered on all fours under the strain of the transformation, Ozziah arose, bipedal once more. The strange lycan spanned its arms out and let out a piercing, guttural roar that caused bells to toll in the distance, calling anyone available to arms.

Mazerine looked to Sebastian as he offered an explanation as to who her would-be companion was, but it did not make her feel any less uncomfortable with the situation that had unfolded.  She could do nothing but listen as he explained a bit further about what was meant by the Fall, but she chose not to pry - she assumed that she could possibly find out more detail in the future.

When the smaller elf (who looked rather different to Mazerine than any other elves she had met) walked over and spoke to she and Sebastian, Mazerine’s expression showed even more confusion than it already had.  She felt very odd when she reached up and patted her head - all she could do for a moment was look to Sebastian with befuddlement.  As her gaze drifted back to the small elf, she could see that she was not as young as she looked, that there were centuries upon centuries of experience held within her.  

When she spoke of how easily Mazerine’s mind had been overtaken, the elf narrowed her eyes, nearly saying something in defense of herself - she had been tossed out of the embassy and into the world, alone, without so much as a mentor.  It was not easy, for someone as young as she, to figure things out on her own, but she decided against saying anything and let the little elf continue her introduction.  

It was clear that Sebastian knew the strange elf.  “I’ve gotten myself into something, haven’t I?” she said to herself, though the words came out loud enough for both Celeste and Sebastian to hear.  “I’m not even two hundred years old… this is ridiculous,” she said, incredulously.  However, she had told Sebastian she would assist him and he had gotten her out of what could have been a very dangerous situation - she had no excuse not to help him now.

Mazerine had not been prepared for what took place once they moved out to the street.

She could feel her palms growing hot as the man - was it a man? - approached them, the coppery smell of blood accompanying his approach.  She was ready to defend herself, even if she was entirely unsure what it was she would be defending herself from.  

Then, the man spoke.  He addressed Sebastian directly - he clearly knew him.  Mazerine looked to Sebastian and Celeste for some hint as to how she should proceed. She had never been in this type of situation and had no clue what she was going to do.  The words that the strange man spoke were cryptic and foreboding.  

The man, who Sebastian had addressed as Ozziah, circled them, and Mazerine could feel her terror spike.  The heat had not receded from her palms, though she was unsure what good a simple fire spell would do at this point.  When Ozziah struck out and shoved Sebastian away, Mazerine took several defensive steps backwards - and when the man began to change, writhing on all fours, her eyes opened wide with terror.  She had never seen anything were before, let alone watched it shift from man to beast.  

Come on, come on, she thought, wondering if she would be able to get Sebastian to hear her thoughts as he had communicated with her via them before.  I need to know what to do, she said, and shot a glance to Celeste, reaching back to what small schooling in telepathy she had, hoping that both of them would hear her mental plea and instruct her on what was needed.

Celeste’s red eyes landed on Sebastian. “I’ll help you if you help me find the cure.” That was all she left it at. Eventually, he would come to know her curse.

“Stand up strong Mazerine,” Celeste ordered as she held out her hand. “I was 50 when my family, friends, and village threw me to the slave trade. I was 50 when I decided to kill them all. Age is irrelevant. You learn at your own pace but sometimes you need to overcome what fears you or what holds you back. I met a man… and he made me so much more than a tiny little Moon Elf. That was a long time ago as I near farther into my two thousand years of existence now.”

With a hand on her hip, they exited the tavern. The moonlight caused her skin to glow like a lantern. It was like silver veins ran through her flesh as the Moon Elf blood shined brightly up at the moon. The stench of death made her close in on Mazerine who was by far one of the weakest of their party.

”You need to start by not freaking out Young One. This is just a lycan of any other color. Despite the deformities. Despite what we don’t know. If you panic you die. That is the laws of the world.” Celeste snapped at her. ”Stay close and don’t get in the way. If you can do both of those things I can protect you. Use your head and try to see through things for us.” 

She looked up at the moon and smirked lightly. “I don’t need to shift to deal with this… but we shall see if that remains true. Young Moon, he appears to know you and I think it would be wise to start thinking about what all this means. It may hold a clue in how to handle this situation.” 

Looking back at Mazerine. “I wasn’t lying when I said I killed everyone. I’m not a good person by far but I wouldn’t hurt someone unable to fight back or who has done me no wrong. This person, though… I don’t think he is even remotely the in the same category. Stay close.” A spiked chain of magic appeared in her hands. It had an ethereal look to it but from the way she whipped it at the ground hard and how the ground cracked and followed the flicks it was very much real.

Distant thunder accompanied the werebeast's roar, and a light rain began to fall. Shouting and the panicked whinnying of horses followed the rallying bell's toll.

Sebastian had drawn his mace, and donned the knuckledusters from his coat. Although clearly touched by madness, and presently in a bestial state, Ozziah, his dear childhood friend, seemed to have the presence of mind to show restraint while he prepared himself…or perhaps it was only hesitation, feeling the magics that Mazerine and Celeste wielded. The creature paced very slowly, while maintaining eye contact. In those mirrors to his own soul's windows, Sebastian could find no trace of what Ozziah used to be. He pushed fond visions of them as boys from his thoughts, and tried to wrap his mind around what Ozziah had implicated.

Vexed, Sebastian desperately tried to reach out to the nameless entity with his mind, trying to confirm anything that was said. It did not speak to him in words, but with pictures and subtle associations, like silent riddles. Normally, any attempt at making contact had an immediate response. The mysterious being was eerily silent to his pleas and inquiries this night. Did it secretly delight in pitting the two of them against each other? If he and Ozziah were only dreams, as was implied, was this only a nightmare that others were being inexorably pulled into? What truly was…real?

Distractions were many, but Sebastian was present enough to have heard Mazerine in his mind, and Celeste speak of some sort of cure.
He looked over his shoulder at the pair. "It…" Sebastian stopped himself and sighed. "Oz, I mean…I think it is only me he wants. If both of you stand down, I don't think he'll attack you. I could be wrong, though. I'm still trying to figure out what all of this means."

Ozziah issued a low growl as Adeluna militia and guardsmen lined the streets on either side of the four of them. They advanced from behind him, and Sebastian immediately put up his hand. "Stay your arms, damnit!" he shouted. "This is no stray problem from Kurayo!"

Too late.


The mob had agitated Oz to action. The creature barreled towards them, and with one mighty sweep of its arm, knocked two men over, and tackled a third, going for his throat.
Sebastian shouted over the vicious mauling and ensuing frenzy to Celeste. "Assist in this, and I'll do whatever you ask!"
He flicked the mechanism on the mace, causing the flange to retract, and the weapon to shift into a heavy pike. Rushing towards Ozziah, he plunged the spear towards his flank. It was narrowly avoided, inflicting a deep gash on the lycan's foreleg. Instead of continuing to be on the defensive, Oz quickly retorted with a powerful swipe that sent Sebastian hurdling into a rum barrel, shattering it, and drenching him with its contents.

Winded, Sebastian cautiously rose, using the pike to get to his feet.
"Fire, Mazerine." He finally answered the elf's erratic mental pleading. "Cleanse this beast with fire."

Mazerine shot a glare at Celeste as she told her to ‘stand up strong.’ Who was this woman, this elf, to tell her how to handle a situation she had never been in?  As annoyed as she was with the small elf, she knew that she needed to listen to her.  The story of her past, and how young she had been when she had taken all those lives, it stuck with Mazerine.  This elf - this very, very old elf, as it turned out - had experienced far worse than she.  She took strong heed of the words that Celeste bore into her brain with telepathy, nodding stoicly as she listened.

Celeste spoke of shifting, and Mazerine almost panicked again.  Seeing Ozziah shift had been the first shifter she could recall seeing, and she did not much feel like watching that happen again.  

Sebastian looked back at them, and his guess that Ozziah did not want to attack Mazerine or Celeste almost put her at ease, until the sounds of the militia cracked through her ears.  It seemed that even if Sebastian had been correct, that the werebeast only wanted to attack him, he was wrong now.  Sebastian pleaded with Celeste for help, and she could hear his thoughts in her mind, telling her to burn him.

She nearly called out for Sebastian as he was thrown into a barrel, the liquid spraying out everywhere, but she kept her cool, Celeste’s warning in her mind and Sebastians call for help echoing along side it.  The heat in her hands gave way to full blown flame, and she took a few steps towards the were, her hands now alight with flames.  She shook as she approached, but the words managed to escape her lips as easily as she meant for them to.  “Serke naar,” she said, and the fire from her palms shot forth towards Ozziah, intent on engulfing his body in the hottest flames.  

She fell to her knees with the intensity of the heat that emitted from her hands, and its power was so strong that she could feel her own flesh searing beneath the torrents.  She did not falter, however, and the flame continued its course towards the werebeast.  She narrowed her eyes against the harsh light from the fire, unsure if she was successful in hitting her target.

“I want the moons to stop burning.” She requested Sebastian to learn how to do that. “Two thousand years and there is no answer. All Moon Elves are dead and with them the secret to what ails me.” She put her hands on her tiny hips.

“Try not to hate me dearest little brother of mine. No matter how corrupted you may be.” She outstretched her arms to Oz. “I once had someone come to me. His eyes as red as blood. His voice as good as silk. He told me not to be afraid anymore. He told me it wouldn’t hurt. He waited until the pain wouldn’t stop from the Moon. Then he took my mortality away.” She chuckled a bit as her clothes dropped. “Did you feel your mortality slip away? Do you even know what it felt like, to begin with?” Her red eyes bore into Oz. 

Her nude frame began to shift. It was nowhere as disturbing as Ozziah’s transformation. It was smooth and quick as if she had been doing it forever, and indeed she had. Her form was brilliantly white and the silver shined brightly in the moon’s light. She was tiny compared to him. ”We Moon Elves do not age like you Mazerine. I was fifty when I said goodbye. Lonely. Lonely. Lonely. My love he took my loneliness away and let me loose on a town. I killed them all before I woke up. Lonely no more.” It was brilliant. The way blood could dance in the sky. “I love him. He who tried to honestly save my soul. He crushed it and twisted it with what he did but he did it because he wanted me not to be in pain. Now, on the night the wolves run wild… I hide. Because it burns.”

Her words drifted to Mazerine’s mind. They were lonely still in a way. Celeste flew up into the sky with a leap going towards the flaming wolf. She let out a horrible howl that sounded more like a bloody scream. She wanted to fight and it had been a good long time before she had.

“There once was a man who had a dream… He wanted to be one with the moons. He made the Moon Elves. The poor, poor Moon Elves’… Had to make an offering each year or else they hurt badly because of the moons. When I killed everyone the knowledge of the Moon Elves got lost. What the Elders knew was what I didn’t know. What I didn’t know ended up hurting badly… Even when I stopped being a Moon Elf entirely.” Her words were soft as her words drifted through their minds. She was keeping in control this way. The way the wolf wanted to rip things apart… this was the way things had to be.

“If I don’t talk to you… I’ll lose myself and I might kill everyone. Mazerine, you smell delicious… If I were not to talk and not focus… I would eat you. You smell like a finely cooked roast.” She was not without her reasons for why she was speaking with them about silly things.

Ozziah issued an unnatural, piercing cry, neither human nor wolven when the conjured flames licked at his flesh. The subtle shadows that enveloped his form and caused his pelt to constantly shift as though it were touched by erratic winds quickened. Smothering the embers within the singed hairs, it then stirred as new fur grew back in its place. What could only be described as a low, beastly chuckle came from the creature as it turned its attentions to the source of the attack - the taller of the two elven women…panic-stricken, now nursing a burned hand. He snorted with dismissal before turning his attentions to the smaller elf that addressed him.

What started as words aloud transferred to a mental dialogue shared to all as the deceptively young-looking thing underwent a transformation of her own. She leapt into the air to lunge at Ozziah, which he sidestepped while rapidly undergoing a second shifting, even more disturbing than the first. The sounds of bones and sinews crackling accompanied it even louder and more sickeningly than before as the creature's spine and form shifted, allowing it to become bipedal as it had been while still a man. The city militia had cleared way after Ozziah's initial assault, following Sebastian's warning; now, many of them fled in pure terror. The antlered lycan extended its right arm, and it shook and writhed before a malformed limb of sharp bone exploded from the flesh violently…a weapon most crude and foul.

Now resembling some sort of twisted wendigo-like thing moreso than a werewolf, Ozziah stalked around the trio. The form he took had a lumbering and hunched posture, but that very well could have been a ruse, hiding his true agility. His focus shifted between all of them, but he was gradually closing the distance between himself and Sebastian.
"What do you know of dreams and nightmares, little elf?" he grumbled in an even lower voice than he possessed as a man. The speech was crude, and riddled with other sounds, but the fact that this strange being retained this much sentience proved it was even more dangerous than it appeared to be. The monster still had the blood of the villager he had mauled dripping from its maw, and now its own blood vulgarly dripping from its malformed limb. What should have been the smell of wet canine emanating from it in the pouring rain was filled in by an unsettling odor of mold and mercury.

"What of blood and of pain?"

Ozziah struck out at the smaller lycan with the strange bony appendage. It seemed intended to miss, for the tells for this lashing out were easy to read. The power behind it was evident in its ability to crack the cobblestone where he struck. It was only a physical warning when she had strayed too close.

Not pausing for an inevitable retort, Oz shifted his weight and slashed the bone claws at Sebastian as he narrowly avoided a thrust from his spear. As he moved, bits of the darkness fell from his form like some sort of living ink upon a canvas…a blasphemous ooze that rushed to the ground and formed vine-like tendrils that lashed coiled about their master defensively.

For a brief moment, Mazerine felt victorious as Ozziah let loose a howl that could only be described as unnatural, the flames from her spell finding their target.  From her knees, she watched, momentarily feeling rather impressed with herself.  Shortly thereafter, however, her expression changed to one of utter disbelief as the embers were smothered by whatever darkness it was that surrounded him.  She let the flames from her palms die away as she realized that they had not been accomplishing what she wished.  Disdainfully defeated, she cast her gaze down to the seared flesh of her palms, the charred scent drifting up into her nostrils.  The pain was immense, but not so much as the pang of fear she felt as Ozziah looked to her - though the fear subsided as he turned his attention elsewhere.  


She found it rather odd when Celeste’s words shifted from spoken to telepathic, bringing the elf to be grateful that she had taken the time to learn the methods that it took to be able to communicate nonverbally.  Her eyes widened as the lycan bean to change furthermore, his appearance much different than before and alarmingly frightening.  She watched the armed men of the city scatter after his first attack, finally deciding to listen to Sebastian.  She turned her attention away from the militia, instead paying mind to the scene unfolding between Ozziah and Celeste and then Sebastian, her eyes widening in the sheer terror of the event.

Celeste stopped dead in her attack. Like at that moment any movement could have been lethal to either party. Her red eyes stared deep into his eyes. “A lot more than you give me credit for. Before I knew blood and pain, I knew loneliness. I knew being alone even in a tribe meant to be my own. You are still young, given time you can ponder your own existence more than you have. Sometimes things happen for a reason even if it takes two thousand years to come to fruition.”

As she replied she dodged the small attacks he was doing. “Do not play with me.” She let out a howl as she jumped towards the disfigured being. She was full teeth and claws as she went after the other wolf. 

In her mind, she kept it clear or rather she tried. Images of her, Nemesis, and Serafina would bolt through everyone’s heads as if her mind was on the brink of a rampage. The way they all slept together, ate together, hunted together. They were a family if nothing else but they were brutal. They were killers. 

Around her began to form spectral sword ready to pierce Ozziah as they moved. She was slowly being consumed by the very rage that she had been so great at hiding. With Nemesis not in sight, it appeared her rage would go unsated. Pain shot through her mind, her linked mind. She threw out her furred claws into the ground, it crumbled with such ease. The rumble from her strength as she went to tear into Ozziah. “If I were you, I would be running.” It wasn’t clear who it was directed to as she began to fling all sorts of her magic, strength, and teeth towards the other wolf. It was such a rage that fear was shaking from her as well because she knew she wouldn’t stop.