The Chronicles of Kelor: Book One; The Boy Alpha

Chapter 12

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The carriage was fitted with the finest wood from our forests and elegantly decorate with ember and emerald stones. It was a gift that I had given Leon after his Rites ceremony. A ceremony in which he was acknowledged as the next leader of the Vampire creatures. It was kind of strange that we were using this particular carriage to take us to A’el’s ceremony. In whatever case, the beauty of the carriage and the nuance of the moment did very little to distract me from the light jostling that occurred as we rode through the dense forests. My unease must have been written on my face because Monica kept looking at me and asking if I was alright. After asking me the same question and receiving the same answer for the hundredth time, she kept her question to herself but wore her worry like a brilliant coloured mask for all of Kelor to see.

“I'm fine, Monica. Stop worrying about me.”

“But you don't look fine, Prince Deven. Is there anything I can get you? Water, or perhaps something to eat?”

Where does one hide water and food in a dancing box on wheels? I asked myself. 

“Leave him be, my dear,” said Leon. “Our dear prince isn't used to riding in a carriage.”

Monica looked at me with a surprised expression. “But you are royalty!”

“Yes, they are!” Leon proclaimed. “However, the Werewolves of Kelor don't ride in carriages but on horseback. Whether they be royalty or not.”

“Why? What's wrong with carriages?” Monica asked.

“They are a death trap,” I said. “You can't see anything but painted wood, nor can you hear anything but the wheels as they hit stone and wood. I’d prefer to be outside, seeing the trees on one side, a stream on the other and up ahead, the deeping valleys and rising hills.”

“How interesting. Hearing you speak makes me want to go outside as well, Prince Deven. A’el is truly lucky to be engaged to a lovely poet.”

I don’t think I'm that good at poetry but who am I to discard a compliment? “Thank you, Monica.”

“Don’t over do it, Monica,” Leon said. “You might enlarge the little pup’s head and ego.”

I gave him disdained look before relying, “Jealousy doesn't suite you, blood hound. Try being happy. It might make that pale skin of yours look a little bit more, radiant.”

Leon smiled and said, “My skin isn’t affected by my mood, unlike a certain werewolf friend I know.”

“Clearly, you aren't talking about me, a half-breed, with the tainted blood of a human, which by the way, helps me control my emotions better than any pure-blood.”

“Oh,” gasped Monica. “So the rumors are true! You're not the legitimate child of the Alpha?”

“No, my dear. I am not!”

“But yet you are the heir to the throne?”

“Right you are, lady Monica. I was chosen by the Ancestors and there is nothing that anyone can do about that,” I replied with a great sense of pride.

“Have you ever been with your kind? I mean your other half, if you could call them that.”

“You mean, the humans?”

Monica gave a shy and hesitant nod.

“No. I have not been around humans, not in a long while. You see, during their teenage years werewolves are trained to control their forms. It’s a painfully difficult ritual that is repeated again and again until changing forms becomes as simple as breathing air. No one thought that I would be able to transform because I was half-human. The first time I did, was in my mother’s town. The humans were so frightened of me that they stayed away from our house. The braver ones would tease me and call me names. When father got word of this he immediately moved us to his lands. The winter is harsh in these lands and as it was our first, we were not prepared for it. My mother didn’t survive her first winter here and after that I moved into the castle.”

Hurt read all over Monica’s face. “My condolences Prince Deven….I’m so sorry…. I didn’t know..”

“It’s fine, Monica. I’m glad that you had the courage to ask.” 

Monica looked like she wanted to shrink in size. Just as I was about to reassure her that I didn’t take any offense to her questions, she brought her head up and asked another question. “As the Beta, I’m sure your form draws everyone’s attention?”

My heart sank. Monica looked confused.

“He's never shown it to anyone.” Leon said. “He can't show his form until the ritual is complete.” 

I felt ashamed. 

Once a werewolf masters their own transformation the next thing they do is build up that form. The less hairy the form, the more refined and strong that werewolf is. Werewolves like Gunther, can even transform one hand while the rest of their body is normal, like a human. However, that hasn’t been the case with me. Valark and all those who started the ritual at the same time that I did have better forms than me. They are still hairy but I have the most hairy, skinny form and I'm not about to let Monica know that. My father said that the chosen Beta has the most painful and difficult transformation ritual among all the werewolves and that because I'm not a pure-breed, the ritual might take even longer and for those reasons he personally trains me. No one has ever seen my form, not A’el, not Leon. Only my father and I have seen it and we intend to keep it that way. If anyone asks, all we say is that it's taking longer than usual because I'm a half-breed. One day, all of Kelor will see it, and when they do, no one will dare to tease me about it.

“Deven,” said Leon. “Have the Ancestors ever chosen someone who didn’t have any connection to royalty?”

The question seemed to be a silly one but knowing that my friend never did anything without having a good reason, I decided to indulge him. “As far as I know, that has never happened.”

“Apart from the First Alpha, correct?”

“I suppose so. Why?”

“I was just thinking of all the chaos that would be brought up if they ever did. They Alpha would have a tough time proving his innocence.”

“And why would you be entertaining such thoughts?”

“Because my dear friend, the old traditions are already being broken all around us. You are the first ever half-breed to be chosen. Believe me, Deven, it's the beginning of a new era.”

“Speaking of new beginnings, you didn’t tell me how the treaty between humans and vampires came about. You spouted some political nonsense about mutual benefits. What I want to know is why this treaty came up”

Even though I was focusing on Leon I could sense Monica’s unease rising.

“I apologize for being evasive, Deven, but I had to be careful. We don’t want word of this spreading around.” As if we weren’t the only ones in this confined wooden box, Leon leans forward and says in a low tone, “We are trying to take care of a small problem.”

“What problem is this?”

“To be honest we don't really know what to call it but it seems to be growing and it’s our fault. My kind, especially the young ones have become addicted to the blood of the living.”

“What do you mean addicted? Haven’t your kind always survived on blood alone?”

“Yes, but you see, we only got it from bottles or something like that, never from a living creature. During the war, we lost many of our elderly and so we added the young ones to our ranks, and now they are blood-shot; unable to control their lust for the hunt. We kept most of them locked away from the world but some escaped and hid in the human kingdom.”

“I’m sure Queen Verona must have been furious.”

“Of course, she was. You’ve only heard of her temper but I’ve seen it up close. my father, the Count, sent me to negotiate with her.”

“Hold on. You were in the wrong but yet you had to go and negotiate?”

“He had to ask her for permission to bring in a small group of soldiers as well as apologize for the deaths of many humans,” Monica said.

“Exactly. To catch vampires, I needed to bring in other vampires. I couldn’t sneak them across the borders. Well, we could have but it is always best to seek a diplomatic approach, especially when trying to correct a mistake. Anyway, we managed to gather the blood-shot vampires but we soon learnt that they had accidentally sired some humans. However, Queen Verona wasn't willing to let us take the sired with us.”

“Why would she?” asked Monica. “Any leader wouldn’t want their own kind being turned into another creature.”

“I wanted them to return home with us because my kind know of a way to turn Sired creatures back to their normal selves.”