It’s in the Blood - Alaric

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Follow Lark and Ryn as their world turns upside down.
1.6k words
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 04/23/2024
Created 04/22/2024
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Episode 1: Alaric

Oh, man. Where do I even start? I guess an introduction is as good a place as any. My name's Alaric Black III. Please, just Lark. Alaric makes me sound old, which I'm not. I'm not a baby either all right? Let's get that straight. This is the part where you get to know me, and I tell you about myself. I'm a pretty simple man. A man that couldn't wait to leave that damn town. I'd been saving up for quite some time. After graduation, I was out. Collingwood was old and forgotten in the hills. Some would say small, but I would say it is a claustrophobic nightmare. It was more than the size of the place. It was the fact that, to top that off, we had to hide who and what we were most of the time. Small town means everyone notices everything, and nothing changes without anyone knowing. There are some safe spaces where people like us could talk and be ourselves, but not many. Very far and few in between. I plan to find a larger one that's for me. Somewhere I could finally breathe.

Humans are incredible and all, I guess, but it's not the same. There's an entire side of us we can never let them see, but it sits right underneath their noses. I'd been here most of my life, and even though I have many fond memories, it was a haunting souvenir: a constant thought and knowing that I never truly had a home or a family. I'm a different species, and even though we'd merged with humans for centuries, there still weren't that many of us in comparison. It was a lonely life at times that provided a never-ending reminder of how different we are. They would fear us still if they knew. That's why we're supposed to stay under wraps. Delicate balances and whatnot.

No matter what, my truth remained the same; I was discarded here, unwanted. Just tossed aside like the food wrapper on your passenger seat floor. That's why I started working as young as I did. There was this constant longing for escape, so I kept busy making any money I could. It started with the paper route when I was about eleven, and then I upgraded to concessions at the zoo a few towns over.

What is the thing about Collingwood that is most annoying? There was barely anything there. It was probably five square miles nestled into the forests and hills. You could smell the ocean air from here. Well, I could. I don't know if anyone else did. When you're driving through, if you blink, you might miss it. Some local shops littered the three main intersections, two pubs you could smell a mile away, a couple of convenience stores, and the schools. You literally have to leave this place if you want to do anything other than eat or drink. If you're ever in town, which you probably never would be, go to Jassy's. It's on the corner of Second and Beech. Their sandwiches are mouthwatering. Other than that, there is nothing of note here.

Memories though. I had many of them. Some are not even in Collingwood. We took a field trip to the Moaning Caverns one year in eighth grade. Now, I know what you're thinking, and I wish. The name sounds sexy, but it's not. They say it used to make a howling moaning sound until they practically demolished an area to open it up. Typical. Ruin something natural and beautiful in the name of tourism. It always intrigued me. From that day forward, I went back there as often as possible. Curiosity grew and I found myself wanting to explore the places unknown.

It was fascinating that there were areas that lay just underneath that had never been disturbed by human hands. There was something peaceful in that. Everything about being in there was a little calming to me. The smell. The general stillness. Only problem for me was the shitty stories. Kinda ruined some of the tour flow for a time. Frankly, they never bothered me, but some people are highly superstitious. Humans had their stories, but we had ours too. That's the thing about ancient places. Everyone starts talking about it, and then word gets out, and stories get all mixed up. We fear what we don't know, but it also makes us curious. It is what it is. Who doesn't love a good spooky ghost story?

Eighteen. I was turning eighteen tonight at midnight. You know, back then, that would've held some significance to us. "Coming of age". There would be big parties and to-dos. Everyone around would gather to celebrate this transition from child to adult. Of course, the purer your blood was, the grander the celebration. I've been told the Black family name dates back over a hundred generations. Alphas from all over would travel to present their daughters and sons for marriage. They were basically bartering chips for truces and territory agreements if they should be so lucky to be fated and welcomed into the Black family fold, or so the stories go. It's still wild to me to even think about it.

My great-great-great-great-great, I can't even honestly tell you how many greats, grandfather and grandmother were the Alpha and Luna of the all-famous Silver Moon pack. Yes, pack. Werewolves? Kind of. Depending on purity, the highest ranked were called Lycans. Something about the power that came with it. Calling a Lycan a werewolf could get you killed back then. Lycans held direct lineage with the purest blood of the first great wolf. Why am I telling you this? The first Black was a Lycan. Ruthless if the stories hold true. I've heard the stories about the line of Blacks, but who of us hasn't? Granny made sure to tell me that my good old great gran and gramps ushered in a time of peace between the differing packs. Some famous treaties were drawn up and signed. Blah, blah, blah. Everyone lives happily ever after and all the horse shit. Whatever. The Black family name wasn't enough to keep me from being discarded, so I really couldn't give two shits about it. Granny always made sure that I knew the history, even though I never asked. I didn't care to. She wanted to ensure that there was good in me and nothing of the evil of the original Black. Annoying old bag.

Nah, Granny is a great woman. I'm luckier than most. I could've been dumped on anyone's doorstep. Could be in a children's home or foster care right now and about to age out. I'm lucky it was someone like her. She's loving and stern. Old woman knows how to have a good time and keep it real, too. She was well leveled and open-minded, which was hard to find in someone at that age. You know old people. They know it and have seen it all! They've lived long, so they know every damn thing. Granny was nothing like that thank the Goddess herself. Ah yes. There's another thing she beat into my brain. 'The Moon Goddess.' Fucking fairytale bullshit. She tells me to be open-minded about that, but she likes to scoff at human religion. It's practically the same damn thing. Let's all pray and give credit to some invisible, all-powerful, all-knowing force! We have no real free will, and everything is destined to be! Give me a break. No thanks. I'm good. Believe what you want to, but that kind of stuff isn't for me.

I used to think this Goddess of ours was just a werewolf thing. I don't know why. Young and ignorant, I guess. Maybe I should've asked more questions growing up. Granny wasn't a werewolf, but she prayed to the woman more than I did. It expands beyond her, too. Raelynn, for example, has stories in her lore about this Goddess. They call her the 'Goddess of the Moon.' The vampires even have her. They call her the 'Goddess of the Night' or whatever the hell. It seemed every non-human race had some goddess with some connection to the moon and darkness, even some ancient human civilizations. They all also have this destined mate thing. Stupid. Apparently, when a were-creature comes of age, they make their first shift and can immediately sense out their mate. Shifting, however, was not something common these days. Most of us are not lucky enough to develop some sort of ability from our lineage. Again, that was extremely rare and tended to skip a few generations or not come at all. It depends on how mixed you are. How do they even keep track after a while? Submit blood tests to prove that you're the correct percentage of the correct creature to stay in the club? Can I even be considered a werewolf at all at this point? No idea how that crap works, and thinking about it still gives me a headache.

And yeah, you heard right. Mate. As in Soulmate. The second half of you. The one that completes you. There's no other bond like it; when you find your mate, it's for life. I've heard stories of how people used to get sick when they were separated from their significant other because of the mate bond. That's the weird thing, too. Mate bond and marking. Every freaking type of creature has its practice and beliefs, but when you take a step back and look at them all, they're all the freaking same. It is so hard to deny the similarities, so why people haven't noticed this by now is beyond me. They used to argue over things like this. Wage war against one another over it. So stupid. 'We believe in the same shit, but ours is the right way!' type of pointless horse shit, just like humans. Things were getting better, sure, but I just hoped we'd be far past things like this. It's the year 2998, for crying out loud!

THUD

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