Chapter 54: Not Prepared
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Since the beginning of the werewolf’s existence, rogue wolves have been a problem. Wolves that ignored the call of the pack, the blessings of the Goddess. These were almost entirely feral creatures. They had submitted to the wolf in them, giving in to the primal urges and instincts.
Each of the four major packs had always been responsible for keeping rogues around their territory in line. Or at the very least away from the human regions.
This was why it was so strange to see the rogues had been able to organize themselves and grow their numbers enough to attack the major packs.
The attacks on Summer were different than they had been before. The first wave, which had been against every pack, had been random and aggressive. Not very well organized or effective.
But when Caleb made his way home, he found a whole different story to the newest round of attacks.
The rogues who attacked now were brutal. They ran straight into combat, no hiding, no scouting. Their numbers had grown as well. By the time one had been taken down, two more sprang up in his place. Each one was meaner and more aggressive than the last.
The attacks, at first, appeared random. But on closer inspection, they had avoided most of the identified weak points along the borders. Moreover, the only two weak points targeted had been hit by a significantly smaller attack party than any other. Suggesting they already knew about them.
But the strangest thing of all wasn’t the numbers, attack patterns, or even their heightened aggression. No, the most bizarre thing was that these rogues, when killed, would melt.
Their bodies, just moments after hitting the ground, would start to bubble and warp until they liquified themselves into a foul-smelling puddle. All attempts to gather some of this ooze for study had failed. It seemed to be highly corrosive. Everything they used to try and collect samples would also melt.
None of it made any sense.
“How are they doing it? Where are they coming from?!” Caleb shouted angrily at himself, throwing the report on his desk, papers flying everywhere.
He sighed heavily as he bent down to collect the strewn papers. After gathering them all in a messy pile, he placed them on his desk. His eyes fell on the brand-new laptop.
When Caleb had first arrived from Winter, the reports he received had been distressing. In his anger, he had thrown his laptop into the wall once again. Without Galen, he was forced to request a replacement himself. It took half a day of filling out paperwork, setting up passwords, biometric scans, verifying file transfers, and so much more.
After the experience, he requested reports on the attacks be brought to him on paper.
There was also an apology gift left in Galen’s room.
Caleb finished reorganizing the papers, he poured himself a drink. Finally, he sat on his couch, laying his head back and taking a deep breath.
‘None of this makes any sense,’ he thought to himself before taking a sip of his drink. He hated unanswered questions, and he had many about his current situation.
He had hoped to come home and settle everything within a day or two. But it had already been a week, and the attacks were still happening. They had eased off for two days, during which time his wolves had reinforced damaged borders, treated the wounded, and tried to study the black pools left behind from the dead rogues.
But on the third day, they appeared almost out of nowhere, unseen by the scouts. They attacked without hesitation and annihilated one of the science teams sent to try and collect a sample. Five of his wolves, dead in moments. They weren’t even soldiers.
Since that day, there had been no break in the attacks.
They had already lost at least fifteen. The rogues had lost many more but seemed to be unaffected by it. His war council had refused his request to join the fight. All agreed that there was a greater force behind the wolves, likely waiting for Caleb’s appearance on the battlefield.
They argued for well over an hour about the decision, and Caleb had made up his mind to simply ignore them and do what needed to be done. Until Fiona joined the meeting.
Fiona had served on the war council as Luna for over twenty years; she was an experienced fighter and a strategist. But, after the death of Alpha Cain, she had pulled away from command entirely. So, her being here was a surprise, to say the least.
“I am here today for one reason,” she said, “because I know my son.”
Fiona smiled at Caleb. He did not return the smile, knowing full well she meant to argue against him. But he refused to budge. No matter what she had to say, he would not back down.
“Caleb, I know you want to fight. You want to run out onto the battlefield and destroy the enemy before they have any more chance of hurting our people.”
“If you know, then stand aside,” he answered gruffly.
Fiona smiled again, though he snapped at her; she felt a significant pride for him.
“I am proud of you and your fierce loyalty to our people,” she said, “but what of theirs?”
He looked up at her, confused by her words.
“Your people love and cherish you as much as you do them, perhaps even more,” she smiled. “What are they to do if you go out into the battle and walk directly into a trap?”
He turned away, he knew what she meant, but it didn’t matter. His people were dying, and he needed to stop it.
“Trust in your wolves, Caleb. They have all trained; they have all earned their place on that field.”
“Have I not?” Caleb asked.
“Every wolf of Summer knows beyond a doubt that you would tear the enemy limb from limb. No one doubts your ability or your strength. Keeping you from the battlefield is not about doubt. It is about strategy.”
“There is no strategy to it!” Caleb shouted. “We don’t even know who the great enemy behind the rogues is! Or if they will even appear. All we are doing by holding me back is prolonging this fight!”
“The most important part of any battle, Caleb, is keeping your soldiers going,” Fiona said, her voice a calm fury. “You should know this. It’s basic.”
“What are you talking about?” Caleb asked. He was angry; he was frustrated. Caleb knew she had a point, but he didn’t want to see it. He wanted to be right. He wanted to fight.
Fiona sighed.
“After two years, this pack is still grieving the loss of their alpha. They are not prepared to lose another!” Fiona shouted.
Caleb looked at her face. He saw the anger and the fear. He looked to the rest of the war council, and for the first time, he saw it there too. They were afraid. Not of the rogue wolves, not of the battle. Of the risk of losing another alpha.
Caleb was a direct descendant of the Alpha that founded Summer. It was unique amongst the four packs. His was the only family line that had maintained the rite of Alpha through the generations.
The wolves of Summer loved and honored every Alpha that came before him. His family line was revered. And he was the last of it. If he died today, there was no one to take his place.
Caleb sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think it through.”
When the council had cleared out, satisfied by his agreement to stay off the field, only Fiona stayed back.
“Caleb, we all know a war is coming. We can see it; we can feel it. But the enemy hasn’t revealed himself yet. When he does, we all know we can’t hold you back. You will see battle; you will fight for Summer,” her voice shook.
Fiona stepped close, leaning against her walking stick. She reached a hand to his cheek with a teary smile.
“Until then, please, do not be in a rush to join your father.”
The tears fell, and she let out a soft sob. Caleb hugged her close.
“I won’t, Mother, I promise.”
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Since the beginning of the werewolf’s existence, rogue wolves have been a problem. Wolves that ignored the call of the pack, the blessings of the Goddess. These were almost entirely feral creatures. They had submitted to the wolf in them, giving in to the primal urges and instincts.
Each of the four major packs had always been responsible for keeping rogues around their territory in line. Or at the very least away from the human regions.
This was why it was so strange to see the rogues had been able to organize themselves and grow their numbers enough to attack the major packs.
The attacks on Summer were different than they had been before. The first wave, which had been against every pack, had been random and aggressive. Not very well organized or effective.
But when Caleb made his way home, he found a whole different story to the newest round of attacks.
The rogues who attacked now were brutal. They ran straight into combat, no hiding, no scouting. Their numbers had grown as well. By the time one had been taken down, two more sprang up in his place. Each one was meaner and more aggressive than the last.
The attacks, at first, appeared random. But on closer inspection, they had avoided most of the identified weak points along the borders. Moreover, the only two weak points targeted had been hit by a significantly smaller attack party than any other. Suggesting they already knew about them.
But the strangest thing of all wasn’t the numbers, attack patterns, or even their heightened aggression. No, the most bizarre thing was that these rogues, when killed, would melt.
Their bodies, just moments after hitting the ground, would start to bubble and warp until they liquified themselves into a foul-smelling puddle. All attempts to gather some of this ooze for study had failed. It seemed to be highly corrosive. Everything they used to try and collect samples would also melt.
None of it made any sense.
“How are they doing it? Where are they coming from?!” Caleb shouted angrily at himself, throwing the report on his desk, papers flying everywhere.
He sighed heavily as he bent down to collect the strewn papers. After gathering them all in a messy pile, he placed them on his desk. His eyes fell on the brand-new laptop.
When Caleb had first arrived from Winter, the reports he received had been distressing. In his anger, he had thrown his laptop into the wall once again. Without Galen, he was forced to request a replacement himself. It took half a day of filling out paperwork, setting up passwords, biometric scans, verifying file transfers, and so much more.
After the experience, he requested reports on the attacks be brought to him on paper.
There was also an apology gift left in Galen’s room.
Caleb finished reorganizing the papers, he poured himself a drink. Finally, he sat on his couch, laying his head back and taking a deep breath.
‘None of this makes any sense,’ he thought to himself before taking a sip of his drink. He hated unanswered questions, and he had many about his current situation.
He had hoped to come home and settle everything within a day or two. But it had already been a week, and the attacks were still happening. They had eased off for two days, during which time his wolves had reinforced damaged borders, treated the wounded, and tried to study the black pools left behind from the dead rogues.
But on the third day, they appeared almost out of nowhere, unseen by the scouts. They attacked without hesitation and annihilated one of the science teams sent to try and collect a sample. Five of his wolves, dead in moments. They weren’t even soldiers.
Since that day, there had been no break in the attacks.
They had already lost at least fifteen. The rogues had lost many more but seemed to be unaffected by it. His war council had refused his request to join the fight. All agreed that there was a greater force behind the wolves, likely waiting for Caleb’s appearance on the battlefield.
They argued for well over an hour about the decision, and Caleb had made up his mind to simply ignore them and do what needed to be done. Until Fiona joined the meeting.
Fiona had served on the war council as Luna for over twenty years; she was an experienced fighter and a strategist. But, after the death of Alpha Cain, she had pulled away from command entirely. So, her being here was a surprise, to say the least.
“I am here today for one reason,” she said, “because I know my son.”
Fiona smiled at Caleb. He did not return the smile, knowing full well she meant to argue against him. But he refused to budge. No matter what she had to say, he would not back down.
“Caleb, I know you want to fight. You want to run out onto the battlefield and destroy the enemy before they have any more chance of hurting our people.”
“If you know, then stand aside,” he answered gruffly.
Fiona smiled again, though he snapped at her; she felt a significant pride for him.
“I am proud of you and your fierce loyalty to our people,” she said, “but what of theirs?”
He looked up at her, confused by her words.
“Your people love and cherish you as much as you do them, perhaps even more,” she smiled. “What are they to do if you go out into the battle and walk directly into a trap?”
He turned away, he knew what she meant, but it didn’t matter. His people were dying, and he needed to stop it.
“Trust in your wolves, Caleb. They have all trained; they have all earned their place on that field.”
“Have I not?” Caleb asked.
“Every wolf of Summer knows beyond a doubt that you would tear the enemy limb from limb. No one doubts your ability or your strength. Keeping you from the battlefield is not about doubt. It is about strategy.”
“There is no strategy to it!” Caleb shouted. “We don’t even know who the great enemy behind the rogues is! Or if they will even appear. All we are doing by holding me back is prolonging this fight!”
“The most important part of any battle, Caleb, is keeping your soldiers going,” Fiona said, her voice a calm fury. “You should know this. It’s basic.”
“What are you talking about?” Caleb asked. He was angry; he was frustrated. Caleb knew she had a point, but he didn’t want to see it. He wanted to be right. He wanted to fight.
Fiona sighed.
“After two years, this pack is still grieving the loss of their alpha. They are not prepared to lose another!” Fiona shouted.
Caleb looked at her face. He saw the anger and the fear. He looked to the rest of the war council, and for the first time, he saw it there too. They were afraid. Not of the rogue wolves, not of the battle. Of the risk of losing another alpha.
Caleb was a direct descendant of the Alpha that founded Summer. It was unique amongst the four packs. His was the only family line that had maintained the rite of Alpha through the generations.
The wolves of Summer loved and honored every Alpha that came before him. His family line was revered. And he was the last of it. If he died today, there was no one to take his place.
Caleb sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t think it through.”
When the council had cleared out, satisfied by his agreement to stay off the field, only Fiona stayed back.
“Caleb, we all know a war is coming. We can see it; we can feel it. But the enemy hasn’t revealed himself yet. When he does, we all know we can’t hold you back. You will see battle; you will fight for Summer,” her voice shook.
Fiona stepped close, leaning against her walking stick. She reached a hand to his cheek with a teary smile.
“Until then, please, do not be in a rush to join your father.”
The tears fell, and she let out a soft sob. Caleb hugged her close.
“I won’t, Mother, I promise.”
Since the beginning of the werewolf's existence, rogue wolves have been a problem. Wolves that ignored the call of the pack, the blessings of the Goddess. These were almost entirely feral creatures. They had submitted to the wolf in them, giving in to the primal urges and instincts. Each of the four major packs had always been responsible for keeping rogues around their territory in line. Or at the very least away from the human regions. This was why it was so strange to see the rogues had been able to organize themselves and grow their numbers enough to attack the major packs. The attacks on Summer were different than they had been before. The first wave, which had been against every pack, had been random and aggressive. Not very well organized or effective. But when Caleb made his way home, he found a whole different story to the newest round of attacks. The rogues who attacked now were brutal. They ran straight into combat, no hiding, no scouting. Their numbers had grown as well. By the time one had been taken down, two more sprang up in his place. Each one was meaner and more aggressive than the last. The attacks, at first, appeared random. But on closer inspection, they had avoided most of the identified weak points along the borders. Moreover, the only two weak points targeted had been hit by a significantly smaller attack party than any other. Suggesting they already knew about them. But the strangest thing of all wasn't the numbers, attack patterns, or even their heightened aggression. No, the most bizarre thing was that these rogues, when killed, would melt. Their bodies, just moments after hitting the ground, would start to bubble and warp until they liquified themselves into a foul-smelling puddle. All attempts to gather some of this ooze for study had failed. It seemed to be highly corrosive. Everything they used to try and collect samples would also melt. None of it made any sense. How are they doing it? Where are they coming from?! Caleb shouted angrily at himself, throwing the report on his desk, papers flying everywhere. He sighed heavily as he bent down to collect the strewn papers. After gathering them all in a messy pile, he placed them on his desk. His eyes fell on the brand-new laptop. When Caleb had first arrived from Winter, the reports he received had been distressing. In his anger, he had thrown his laptop into the wall once again. Without Galen, he was forced to request a replacement himself. It took half a day of filling out paperwork, setting up passwords, biometric scans, verifying file transfers, and so much more. After the experience, he requested reports on the attacks be brought to him on paper. There was also an apology gift left in Galen's room. Caleb finished reorganizing the papers, he poured himself a drink. Finally, he sat on his couch, laying his head back and taking a deep breath. None of this makes any sense,' he thought to himself before taking a sip of his drink. He hated unanswered questions, and he had many about his current situation. He had hoped to come home and settle everything within a day or two. But it had already been a week, and the attacks were still happening. They had eased off for two days, during which time his wolves had reinforced damaged borders, treated the wounded, and tried to study the black pools left behind from the dead rogues. But on the third day, they appeared almost out of nowhere, unseen by the scouts. They attacked without hesitation and annihilated one of the science teams sent to try and collect a sample. Five of his wolves, dead in moments. They weren't even soldiers. Since that day, there had been no break in the attacks. They had already lost at least fifteen. The rogues had lost many more but seemed to be unaffected by it. His war council had refused his request to join the fight. All agreed that there was a greater force behind the wolves, likely waiting for Caleb's appearance on the battlefield. They argued for well over an hour about the decision, and Caleb had made up his mind to simply ignore them and do what needed to be done. Until Fiona joined the meeting. Fiona had served on the war council as Luna for over twenty years; she was an experienced fighter and a strategist. But, after the death of Alpha Cain, she had pulled away from command entirely. So, her being here was a surprise, to say the least. I am here today for one reason, she said, because I know my son. Fiona smiled at Caleb. He did not return the smile, knowing full well she meant to argue against him. But he refused to budge. No matter what she had to say, he would not back down. Caleb, I know you want to fight. You want to run out onto the battlefield and destroy the enemy before they have any more chance of hurting our people. If you know, then stand aside, he answered gruffly. Fiona smiled again, though he snapped at her; she felt a significant pride for him. I am proud of you and your fierce loyalty to our people, she said, but what of theirs? He looked up at her, confused by her words. Your people love and cherish you as much as you do them, perhaps even more, she smiled. What are they to do if you go out into the battle and walk directly into a trap? He turned away, he knew what she meant, but it didn't matter. His people were dying, and he needed to stop it. Trust in your wolves, Caleb. They have all trained; they have all earned their place on that field. Have I not? Caleb asked. Every wolf of Summer knows beyond a doubt that you would tear the enemy limb from limb. No one doubts your ability or your strength. Keeping you from the battlefield is not about doubt. It is about strategy. There is no strategy to it! Caleb shouted. We don't even know who the great enemy behind the rogues is! Or if they will even appear. All we are doing by holding me back is prolonging this fight! The most important part of any battle, Caleb, is keeping your soldiers going, Fiona said, her voice a calm fury. You should know this. It's basic. What are you talking about? Caleb asked. He was angry; he was frustrated. Caleb knew she had a point, but he didn't want to see it. He wanted to be right. He wanted to fight. Fiona sighed. After two years, this pack is still grieving the loss of their alpha. They are not prepared to lose another! Fiona shouted. Caleb looked at her face. He saw the anger and the fear. He looked to the rest of the war council, and for the first time, he saw it there too. They were afraid. Not of the rogue wolves, not of the battle. Of the risk of losing another alpha. Caleb was a direct descendant of the Alpha that founded Summer. It was unique amongst the four packs. His was the only family line that had maintained the rite of Alpha through the generations. The wolves of Summer loved and honored every Alpha that came before him. His family line was revered. And he was the last of it. If he died today, there was no one to take his place. Caleb sighed. I'm sorry, he said, I didn't think it through. When the council had cleared out, satisfied by his agreement to stay off the field, only Fiona stayed back. Caleb, we all know a war is coming. We can see it; we can feel it. But the enemy hasn't revealed himself yet. When he does, we all know we can't hold you back. You will see battle; you will fight for Summer, her voice shook. Fiona stepped close, leaning against her walking stick. She reached a hand to his cheek with a teary smile. Until then, please, do not be in a rush to join your father. The tears fell, and she let out a soft sob. Caleb hugged her close. I won't, Mother, I promise.
