The failure to catch the Great Achilles train weighed heavily on Vortex’s mind. Training is all she did while awaiting the next waxing half moon. The blows she deals to the dummies in various contraptions are powerful enough to send them flying like they did to her before. Garriz has to put a temporary pause on Vortex’s sessions, setting her out on missions to find various metals on the market for him to use for repairs. She comes back with the haul in a giant canvas bag, but he sends her away once more to the neighboring trees to fetch more firewood.
‘You are rather wound up,’ Axle notes on the werewolf’s back. She huffs, gathering the tiny dry wood branches she could find on the floor. “You think?” she sarcastically says. “We don’t have time to waste. It was my fault I couldn’t get to the train before dawn broke.”
‘The moon remains still in the sky during the day,’ Axle says. ‘You could have continued your attempts then.’ Vortex freezes on the spot.
“I-I had school,” she tries to argue.
‘Saturdays are your days off,’ Axle counters.
“Rrrgh…” she grumbles. “You think I could have taken on that ghost conductor in my human form? You’re taller than me if I turned back.”
‘Oh,’ Axle says. ‘Wouldn’t have hurt to try.’
“Yet another thing I absolutely bobble,” Vortex says, picking up stray dead sticks. “I couldn’t throw Nebula far enough to reach the caboose. It’s all I’ve been doing when we’re at the cabin.”
‘You chucking the siren in the lake was nothing short of disturbing,’ Axle shares. “What’s with that choice of ‘disturbing’, mister ‘former Headless Horseman weapon’?” The sentient metal chooses to ignore the werewolf’s cutting words. ‘Your hand easily wraps around her torso as if she were toy sized.’
“Oh,” Vortex says. “That’s what you meant. Nebula doesn’t seem to mind it.”
‘She is too busy focusing on not breaking the water’s surface with her whole body,’ Axle reminds the werewolf. ‘Be that as it may, I believe you are making good progress on your training. Failures like this happen.’
“I don’t have time for failure, Axle,” Vortex barks back. “I need to be successful. One failure can mean two or twenty more. Nebula has to get home. She needs me to get this right.” She gathers the whole of the firewood collected and begins to carefully step her way down back to the forge. Suddenly, Vortex stops in her tracks. Her ears flicker back and forth, and her back hackles raise. “Do you feel that?” she asks Axle.
‘Feel… what, exactly?’ the metal questions.
Looming over her figure, she turns to see a wave of the dark purple mist set to crash on her form. She tries to scream, but her mouth is choked by the mist clogging her throat, piercing the protection through her eye slots. Her hind legs leave the floor as she is lifted off of the crackling ground. Her feet kick about in panic, arms flailing to find any sort of way to push the mist off of her.
“Look who has entered my domain,” the voice echoes from the open spaces. “Why do you have a weapon? Are you going to hurt me when all I’ve done is help? You are so ungrateful.”
Vortex cannot find any words to spit out, desperately flinging her head about to see if anyone is nearby to witness what is unfolding. ‘Help!’ She internally cries out to Axle.
‘What is this?!’ Axle asks. ‘The mist surrounding Beastial Sanctuary,’ her mind races to communicate. ‘People say it’s to protect us, but-!’ Her thoughts are crushed when she feels the mist forcefully inject itself into her body. Searing hot pain floods her muscles, choking her out.
“Your horrible little secret is kept safe with me. Why do you resist when I know what’s best for you, little girl?” The mist whispers into her ears. A clammy, horrible shiver runs up the werewolf’s spine. Nothing good ever comes from this disgusting thing when it calls her ‘little girl’. ‘Axle!’ she begs once more. ‘Get me help! Please!!’ Axle does their best to wiggle out of their leather holster, clanking down to the ground. The magical armor dissipates from her body. They attempt to wiggle their way to the forge, but the farthest they can reach is with any momentum from sliding down the tilt of the forest.
“You’ve done me a favor by getting rid of your ridiculous armor.. Are you finally going to listen to me?” There is no moment for Vortex to answer the question; the mist yanks her upwards to the higher parts of the hills. “Why don’t we have some fun together? Maybe you’ll roll over more if I get through to your head.” Vortex does her best to fight back against the sinister fog, taking defiant steps forward. She sees a peek of the forge where Garriz is working away at a project, unaware of the impending danger near him. Her left hand reaches out to the bovine form in the distance, wrenching her jaw open to scream “HELP!”. Alas, no words vibrate from her vocal chords as the mist shoves its being into her mouth, silencing her as she is yanked far, far away out of sight.
Axle falls to the base of the bushes that border Garriz’s forge. They hear Nebula humming a tune to herself. “So, your name is Lillianne?”
“Yep!” A much younger voice says. “I like to come here to get away from school and hang out with Grancle Gary. He doesn’t let me in the forge, but he always shows me what he made afterwards.” There has to be some way Axle can make themselves apparent even from the briar’s shadows. They rattle once again in place, but find no luck.
“He told me you’re not from around here. Where do you come from?” Lillianne, Garriz’s grand niece asks. Nebula is unsure on how to answer at first. “Chelonia…” she simply opts for. Explaining to a young kid about aliens like her is sure to blow her whole planet’s visits. She was already pushing it, what with explaining the whole thing to Vortex. “Ooo, where’s that?” the young calf-girl continues. “Very very far away from here,” Nebula responds. “Oh. Okay! I’m from the northeast. We get to take lots of trips to the mountains and national parks, so I know how to navigate the forest. I’m my grade’s best scout!”
“I told you, honey, you can’t go off on your own in these forests,” Garriz shouts from the inside of his work station. “They’re more dangerous than the Urvin plains you’re used to going through.”
“Granckleeeee,” Lillianne pout whines. “I can handle myself! Like… look at those berries on the bush, Nebby. Those are sweet heat pompi berries.” Axle hears little stomps rapidly approaching them, rustling into the leaves. Nebula follows closely behind, watching as the little minotaur pulls a bunch out. “They’re only edible when they’re fully ripe. Try to pick them too quickly, and they’ll give you stomach pain for days!” Lillianne pops a few in her mouth, licking her lips. “Mmn, so good!”
Axle wiggles in place. Without the help of the moonstones from Vortex’s belt, they can’t will themself to concentrate that power into something more tangible. They’re about to turn away, but the flaming embers from Garriz’s heated forge cause their metal to reflect the yellow light, catching the girls’ attention. “Huh? Grancle, did you misplace one of your projects again?” Lillianne parts the bush to see Axle staring back at her with a beady black eye. She screeches, rapidly retreating a few steps back. “IT’S LOOKING AT ME!!”
Nebula inspects the metal further, then realizes it’s Axle. “What is Axle doing here?” She hops over the bushes to grab them by the handle, dragging them back to Garriz. “You’re always with Vortex. Did she forget you when she went out to get firewood?” Axle quickly focuses its metal in detecting Vortex’s belt moonstones. Before Nebula can pull the enchanted shovel axe further back to the big minotaur, they yank her fiercely in the other direction. “WoAH-!” she yells, unable to resist the pull. As if Axle were both a magnet and a flying broom, they jet through the trees to find Vortex.
“AaaaAAAaaAAAaAXLE!” Nebula shouts. “What’s goiNg OOOON?!”
‘Can you hear me, Vortex!?’ Axle calls out to the werewolf. Their metallic mind is assaulted with harsh whispers, screeching, the sounds of tearing flesh and squelching blood. If they had a stomach, they were certain it would churn. They continue to zig and zag through the trees, stopping at a nearby bear cave. Nebula massages her sprained shoulders. “Why are we here?” Nebula questions. Axle rattles in her hands, trying their best to communicate. “Did something happen to Vortex?” Nebula asks. Axle rattles once in Nebula’s hands, as if to say ‘yes’. “Is she in here?” Another singular rattle. “Can’t you talk to her?!” Two rattles signifies a no. Nebula gulps, but charges into the unknown cave, screeching Axle on the uneven ground. “Let Vortex go, you nasty beast!!” she shouts into the emptiness. Channeling all of her strength, she lifts the blade up and, with all of her might, lodges Axle into a strange rock inside the cave. It cracks, then bursts out with a bright lilac light. Waves of eerie mist are purified. Banshee-like screams rack the siren’s ears- she’s unable to cover them long enough before they peter out. A dim hum of two moonstones glow in the far corner of the cave, resting on a brown werewolf’s hips.
“Vortex! Thank goodness you’re alright!” Nebula says, leaving Axle’s blade inside the rock to throw herself next to the lycanthrope. “Are you okay?” Small whimpers and delayed breaths escape the werewolf’s mouth. Her eyes are wide in the darkness. Nebula is unable to make out Vortex’s face, but something about the vague outline of her mouth wobbling tells her something horrible has gone wrong.
“Vortex…?” she says once more. The werewolf snaps back to reality, checking her surroundings. She’s no longer locked into this cave by the mist’s shackles. She sees the gleam of her faithful weapon propped up on the trap lock rock. She crawls to them, grabbing a hold of the handle, letting the armor resituate itself on her body. Leveraging herself up with the handle’s help, the werewolf stumbles back outside. Everywhere she can see, the mist stays in the corners of her eyes. Prickling needles and overwhelming pressure push down on her skin. She can’t feel her face, her chest, her legs. She knows they’re there, but she doesn’t feel like her body is hers.
Nebula follows the werewolf, ear fins drooping. She didn’t even acknowledge her presence. “Vortex?”
The siren’s voice startles the werewolf, swinging her head to her. “N-Nebula? When did you get here?”
“I came here to rescue you,” she answers. “Did you not see me right next to you when I asked if you were okay?”
“N-no,” Vortex honestly replies. “I couldn’t- I couldn’t see you at all. Oh. Oh no…”
“What’s going on?” Nebula asks.
“The mist,” she ominously whispers out. “It’s getting stronger. It… it took me. Dragged me to this cave and tried to…” She can’t bring herself to complete the sentence. She tumbles to the ground, kneeling and covering her armored snout with a hand, holding back the urge to vomit. Axle steadies her with their blade self piercing the tight dirt. “It put so much of itself inside my body. I don’t know why it keeps telling me it’s for my own good, but it makes me feel less like a person and more like this- this monster.” Vortex holds fast to the comfort of the shovel-axe’s handle. “It tells me to not trust anyone, not even myself, to let it do all of the deciding for me. No agency. No autonomy. Like if I were its puppet.”
“I’ll be hexed if I let the mist stop me from getting you home.” She stands back up, her magical cape flowing from her steps. “Let’s go. There’s a honeydew patch half a kilometer away from here that I can munch on.” Nebula nods, following the werewolf closely. They arrive at the patch to harvest a handful of melons, placing them in Vortex’s enchanted waist satchel. They then return to Garriz’s forge.
“Did you get the firewood?” Garriz inquires.
“No,” Vortex says.
“What? Did you forget halfway through??”
“The mist got me,” she answers honestly. She chomps down on the honeydew.
“Not this garbage again,” he brashly responds. “The mist is here to protect us. It always has. Don’t make it your excuse again or I’m sending you away to do a whole lap around the barrier.” Nebula’s back straightens at that. If the mist surrounds the entire outskirts of the barrier, that would mean sending Vortex to her doom!
“But I saw it, I swear!” Nebula advocates. She spots something purple on the exposed brown fur of Vortex’s arm, and pulls one of them down. Her veins are wriggling with the evil still coursing inside. “Look at her veins!”
Garriz pinches the bridge of his nose. Lillianne giggles in the corner. “Silly Nebby, he’s blind, remember?”
“Oh,” Nebula replies softly.
“But they do look really purple. Ewww, it’s wiggling like a worm!” Lillianne corroborates. “Hmmnn,” Garriz contemplates. “Could be the doing of that swamp witch nearby. She’s been causing more trouble lately.”
“But-!” Nebula tries to start. Vortex cuts her off with a hand to her pale cream white shoulder. “He’s not gonna listen. Let it go.” Nebula grimaces, yet complies with the werewolf’s request. It still leaves a horrible ball of concern in her gut.
“I’ll go buy some firewood if you’re such a scaredy cat over it. The woods have barely dropped any thick branches as is,” Garriz says, hammering away at large iron rings. “I’ve been working on Samir’s request. Turns out that the whole table is on its literal last leg. I’ll be adding more support to it.”
He sets off to the market once he finishes his work up. Vortex, Nebula, and Lillianne all sit on the steps of Garriz’s house. The werewolf is holding on to Axle, studying the blade carefully.
“So my granckle has been teaching you how to fight?” Lillianne asks Vortex.
“Mhmn,” she absentmindedly answers.
“Can you teach me what he’s taught you?”
“Why not ask him yourself?” the werewolf counter questions.
“He won’t let me. He says I’m too young!”
“Whaat?” she says. “That’s ridiculous. You’re never too young to learn how to fight!” She picks herself up off the steps. “What if a bully tries to hit you?” Lillianne twirls her curly hair in between her hooved fingers. “My teachers told me to ignore my bullies and they’ll leave me alone.” Vortex huffs. “Figures they would. I had my teachers tell me that when I was your age. You know what happens when you try to ignore them? They bully you harder!” That makes the little minotaur girl’s eyes widen. “But- but if I do anything, my teachers told me they’d call my parents and I’d get in trouble!” Vortex growls deeply, baring her fangs. Nebula listens to the exchange, face distorting in concern with each turn.“That’s it, I’m teaching you how to fight. Come on Lil’ Anne!”
The werewolf rushes out to the mini training yard with the young calf girl in tow. “But I’m gonna get in trouble if Grancle sees me learning how to punch.”
“Nah, I’d get in trouble for trying to teach you,” Vortex says. “I’ll take the heat for you. Now, let’s get started.” She’s about to put Axle on the ground when her hackles rise, and an icy shiver goes up her spine. On second thought, she’s going to put them through the scabbard slung over her back.
“Alright, so pretend I’m your bully,” Vortex starts, kneeling down to the ground so she can be at eye level with the young calf. Clawed hands press flat against the air. “What do they do to bully you?”
Lillianne puts her fidget toy down on the ground. “He pulls my braids and calls me ‘easy veal’,” she answers. Vortex’s bushy teal eyebrows shoot far up to her furhawk. “He WHAT?!” she shouts at the top of her lungs.
“What’s ‘veal’?” Nebula asks, tilting her head diagonally.
“Mmn…,” the werewolf grumbles. She gestures to the siren with her left hand to come closer, and whispers. Nebula freezes, then her back spines rise up.
“Kill him,” she commands.
“No!” Vortex says. “Don’t kill him. Use your noggin- you’ve got little nubby horns for headbuttin’.” She brings her hands down. “I was gonna show you how to use your fists, but if he’s yanking you around like that, then I’ll show you something even better. Here, grab a hold of my hair,” she says, lowering her head to offer Lillianne up her side bangs. “Go on.”
Hesitantly, the little girl pulls at it. Vortex follows the flow. “Good. Now if he gets you like that, give him one of these.” She gently pushes her head forward to bomp her on the chest. Despite her best attempts to be as light as possible, Lillianne does get pushed a few steps back. “Ow,” she yelps, scratching at a mosquito bite with one of her hooved fingers. “You did it too hard!” Nebula chides Vortex. “Wha-hey, that was as soft as I could do it!” the werewolf barks. “Here, you can do it back to me,” Vortex offers, patting her chest. “Headbutt me as hard as you can.”
The little girl steps forward a bit, pausing out of uncertainty, but tries her best to give a strong smack. The nubby horns don’t do any damage. She does however noticeably push the werewolf back a couple of inches. “Good!” Vortex praises her. “Now again!”
This goes on for a few rounds. When Lillianne catches Vortex off guard with a particularly hard hit, she knocks the older teenager off balance and she falls flat on her tail. Lillianne laughs out loud, eyes crinkled with joy while a beaming smile with a missing front tooth. Nebula joins in on the hearty laughter, and the werewolf can’t hold her pout for long before breaking into a few chuckles.
“I think I got it,” Lillianne says. Vortex pulls herself back up on her feet, clearing off any debris on the back of her legs. “If all else fails, just bite him. Works for me,” Vortex tells her. It’s at that time that Garriz comes back home. He complains about his joints giving him grief while gathering firewood as he approaches them.
“Come on back inside,” he instructs Lillianne and Nebula. “Sun’s gonna be up any moment, and I’d rather know you two are safe n’ sound.” The cosmic siren gives him a look and mutters out, “Garriz, the cabin.”
“Oh, right,” he says. He seems disappointed. “Yeah. Well, I’ll take Lil Anne back to my sister before she yells at me. Come on,” he gestures to his niece. “Bye aunties!!” the little girl innocently shouts, waving goodbye. Vortex puts a hand over her fluffy chest. “Oh goodness,” she mumbles. “What have I gotten myself into… alright, Nebula, let’s get you back to the safe house.” The trio set off, and in ten minutes, they arrive back at the cabin.
“Hey, Vortex?” Nebula says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much help getting to you before the mist did.”
Vortex pats Nebula’s head. “It’s not your fault. We’ll get ‘em next time.”
“But it is,” Nebula insists. “We’re friends. I wasn’t much help with the conductor, either, and… I don’t like being the reason for all these setbacks. You’re just as important to this operation.” The werewolf’s heart tenses. Sure, she does have her significance to finding the moonstones, but this isn’t a long term deal. They can’t be friends yet- surely still acquaintances. Right?
“... get some rest. I have to get ready for school.” Nebula pauses, but nods and goes off to the lake to take a soak, rejuvenating her scales. The werewolf goes inside the cabin to pack her bags. A harsh, stinging pain rushes through her right wrist. She clenches onto the limb with her left hand, squeezing it down to relieve the ache. Her efforts are fruitless- the pain amplifies to a searing hot burn. She spots a sprawling vein darken from a light green to a sickly shadow black. Sweat beads down her furry forehead, dampening her clammy face. Reaching for a honeydew, the she-wolf gobbles down on the sweet melon. No effect at first. The color dies down after a minute, and she sighs.
Taking her backpack and setting it steady on her spine, she heads out of the cabin, taking the path back to her human life. As Vortex weaves her way through the dirt paths down to her destination, she takes a moment to turn back, staring at the waterfall just before Tablet Lake. In the stillness, she swears she can hear the faintest whispers drawing her back. Viciously shaking her head, the lycanthrope sets off, watching the comforts of the night sky turn over to the delicate glow of dawn’s greeting.