"Of all evil I deem you capable: Therefore I want good from you. Verily, I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good because they had no claws."

― Friedrich Nietzsche

"Come on Lyra!" Brull called out, fist gripped around the door knocker of the wolf-kin's room.

He'd banged away at the wood for the last fifteen minutes, undeterred by the lack of response. The woman had holed up inside since the armored ape had dumped them out of the guild.

"You can't stay in there forever, you know!" He raised the heavy metal ring away from the door in preparation for another round. "Come on, little Kalina has given us a massive line of credit, we can go crazy in the shops and she'll foot the bill!"

"Please go away!"

He stopped his hand in mid-swing, ears perked up as he leaned closer to the door.

"I'm not feeling very well, but everything is ok!"

"Alright then," He placed the knocker gently against the wood, "I'm going shopping so I'll be out for a while, I'll bring you some warm soup on my way home!"

Brull waited for a moment, but Lyra returned to her silence, so he turned on his heels and walked down the hall.

"Feel better Lyra!" He called out over his shoulder as he began his way down the stairs. "Let me or Otto know if you need anything!"

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Brull's voice made its way into Lyra's room. She could hear his footsteps, an easy, careless stride, as he made his way down the stairs and out of the expensive inn. She heard far more than that, even the heart beats of the family next door thundered in her ears.

Hunched in on herself within the center of her room, surrounded by the shredded fragments of what remained of the furniture, Lyra hugged her body to her legs as she ground her teeth.

"I'm so hungry, Fen."

Her voice leaked out, the calm tones she'd used to drive Brull away replaced by an unstable timber. One of her eyes was its natural silver, but the other glared back at her from the shards of glass on the floor, a swirling black hole that dragged away the color of her iris.

"I wanted to let him in and..."

She shrank further into herself, a small ball amidst the chaos of her room. Her nails dug into her sides as she tightened her grip, and small trails of blood ran through her fur.

"It's only natural Lyra, they are all our prey." Fen's voice forced its way out her throat, hoarse, as if she'd been screaming for hours.

"NO!" This time Lyra snarled, and her claws drove deeper into her flesh. "They are our friends, they saved us!"

"The shadow beast saved us, not these lesser creatures."

No matter how she struggled, she could not keep Fen from using her mouth to form these words. The wolf had wrapped itself around her heart and wore half her skin. The more she used its power, the stronger it became, but without Fenrir she was nothing.

"Vendak saved everyone, it was Otto who healed us." Lyra ground out, the pain from her sides a touchstone that grounded her. "We worked together to get to safety!"

"Pfff, " Fenrir snorted, a rough burst that seemed impossible for Lyra's throat. "If you let me take the lead, we would be powerful, just like that creature that saved us."

Fenrir was obsessed with Ven. She constantly held him up as the example of a person who had embraced their darkness. Ever since the wolf had witnessed the wholesale slaughter of the slaver crew, she had fallen into her version of love.

"I can't wait until we're strong enough to eat him!" Fen's smile spread over Lyra's face, a mask of madness and desire. "Even the aftertaste of his energy makes my mouth water."

A vision of Ven, covered in blood as he ripped her free from the slave ship, passed through Lyra's mind in a flash. Even as he'd saved her, his eyes had been devoid of emotion. Like a machine that acted on some incomprehensible logic.

"I don't think it's a good idea to try and eat him Fen..." Lyra looked into a piece of broken mirror, deep into the eye that was not her own. "You remember his eyes, right?"

"Of course I do, little pup," Her reflection sneered back at her, a feral grin that she'd never imagined on her face. "He has eyes like mine, the eyes of a monster."

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Lyra finched away. She returned to her cramped position as tears flowed from one of her eyes. Hands pressed to her stomach, rocked back and forth.

"I'm so hungry Fen… how do you stand it?"

Ever since Lyra first experienced Fenrir's bottomless, all-consuming drive to eat, horror filled her heart. It pressed and gnawed, an ache at the pit of her stomach. Even when Fen was deep asleep, it chewed at her sanity. It had become her own, a nightmare that never ended. The idea that she would never escape it numbed her mind.

"I eat, little pup, I eat..."

The laughter that bubbled from her throat caused a wave of nausea that Lyra couldn't suppress. Her body uncoiled in a flash, and she pounced toward an overturned trash can. She clutched it to her face and heaved, back arched as she emptied what remained of her last meal.

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Brull walked up to the monolithic inn, a bundle under one arm and a sealed, round container in the other. Shopping had gone well, he'd found both his and Mara's clothes for the Royal banquet. His last stop had been to a small, well-managed tavern. He'd discovered it on his first day, and gone back each day after, for another taste.

Brull used his hips to open the door, the hot container of soup in his hands shielded by his body as he backed into the building. Lyra will love this! The sweet creamy stew was filled with both meat and vegetables, as well as fluffy white dumplings, seasoned with butter and herbs.

He ordered a double portion, just in case she invited him in. Brull's stomach rumbled its opinion, a reminder that he'd not eaten all day, and he picked up his pace.

Brull’s paws fell softly as he sped up the stairs. His cultivation was enough to let him make the trip in seconds. The air cooled the skin beneath his fur, a smile on his lips as he reached to grasp the knocker. His hand grazed the brass surface and Lyra's door swung wide, the room beyond draped in shadows.

"Lyra?" Brull took a step forward, the soup in his hand held before him like an offering. "Are you in here?"

From the depths of the darkened room, he caught a glimpse of movement, a flash of light across a dark pair of eyes as they gazed from the gloom.

"I brought soup..."

Lyra leaned into the light and sniffed the air, both eyes covered with inky darkness. She smiled a feral, savage grin that brought him pause. He recognized those eyes, and the smile they carried. He'd seen them before, when Lyra lost control during their spar.

The berserk woman leapt forward, and Brull reacted in a flash. The hot soup in his hand transformed into a missile he lashed at Lyra's face. Sorry... He might find her cute, but their last fight had taught him to respect her as a threat.

She swiped a hand at the incoming dinner, which erupted into an explosion of molten hot liquid, sprayed directly into her face.

Lyra howled in rage. Her muscles tensed as she stood motionless, the soup pooled around like a delicious marsh. She wiped her hands across her face, black eyes tinged with red as she glared at Brull.

"Hey now, any chance that snapped you out of it?"

She snarled and pounced once more, and Brull's question was answered with tooth and claw. He dodged and blocked, pressed backward by her relentless assault.

She's faster than before... In their last match, he'd felt in control for most of the fight, but now he could only defend.

"Lyra!' He shouted, his claws hard-pressed to match her speed as he parried a lung at his throat. "Wake up!"

The wolf-kin's only response was a disdainful snort as she pressed her attack. Each blow reached closer and closer, the blue aura flared up around her, though her spear was nowhere in sight.

He glanced behind and darted down the stairs in a rush, the tug at his back evidence that she rode his tail like the wind. I need to get her out of here. If the other patrons woke up and came into the hall, Brull wouldn't be able to protect them.

He charged through the door, the well-lit thoroughfare beyond still empty of foot traffic. His feet barreled forward, not daring to stop. The wind from Lyra's attacks gained strength as she closed the gap between them.

The light from her aura lit the way as he dived into a narrow ally, away from any potential innocents. He jumped over a mountain of trash, his dive only a step ahead of her snapping teeth.

The aura around her had formed completely, a vast, hollow-eyed wolf that chomped at his heels. It stood taller than a man, as if it was made of flesh and bone.

He landed, body forced into a roll as he dove around a corner. Brull stood, dumbfounded, face an inch away from a tall, marble wall. His shoulders spun, eyes locked on the wolf behind, as she gloated over his situation.

"Come on now Lyra, We.. we're friends remember?"

The stone at his back was cold. It drew the heat from beneath his skin while his lungs spasmed, a hitch in his breath as he confronted the maddened wolf-kin.

"Friends?" A voice that was not Lyra's croaked out from within the wolfen avatar, filled with scorn and rage. "I am her only friend… you are just meat on the bone!"

The wolf lunged forward, her teeth around his throat. Brull closed his eye. I always knew I'd die to the teeth of a beautiful woman. He waited, but the expected pain did not come. Brull peeked out from behind his tightly shut lid.

Lyra's mighty jaws were frozen, their tips pressed into his neck. Her breath warmed his throat. The muscles in his neck tightened, an involuntary swallow, despite the desert in his mouth.

"What's this now?" A hearty voice sounded out from beyond Lyra's restrained form, jovial despite Brull's situation. "The youth these days sure play some interesting games!"

A portly fellow, dressed in rusted armor that matched his sheathed sword, walked into Brull's line of sight. He held a finger pointed at Lyra, a thin line of energy connected to her frozen body.

"Such things are forbidden here!"

He twitched his hand, and Lyra jerked, her aura scattered away. Eyes returned to her natural silver, they rolled back into her head as she fell to the ground. Before she could make contact with the earth, the man caught her in a princess carry, her body supported on his wide belly like an oddly bent bow.

"The name's Arthur," He said, one hand extended to Brull as the other balanced Lyra in her uncomfortable position. "You best come along with me… there's something wrong with this young girl."

"Alright," Brull nodded and shook Arthur's hand, his throat still warm from his brush with death. "I remember you from the funeral, you were with Mara and Ven, right?"

"Indeed I was!" Arthur smiled behind his bushy mustache, two perfect rows of spotless white teeth that raised Brull's hackles. "My master was buried that day, so I had to pay my respects."

"I'm sorry for your loss..." Brull didn’t know what else he should say. He hadn't known Ooulin, and unlike his sister, he was less invested in the mythos of the guild. He focused on the little steps and left the bigger dreams and plans to his sister.

"No worries my boy!" Arthur reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. "Ooulin died as he lived, a death that any man would be envious of, so long as he lived well!"

Arthur drew Brull into a walk, and the two exited the confined ally. Into the sleepy, night-time streets, where nothing seemed to mark the frenzied rush that had almost ended his life.

"I suppose so..." Brull looked at his feet.

Have I lived well? He'd done his best, but everyone had their weakness. He covered for his faults with his hard efforts to help the people. Each monster he killed was an affirmation that he was a good man.

"Come now boy, let's get her to the guild hall and take a look at her."

Brull was dragged forward, his feet a few inches above the ground as Arthur set a pace that only a Semi-Divine could.

How do you live well?

Brull had no idea, but the thought wormed its way into his mind as he let the portly Arthur carry him along. His body was almost limp as he drifted into a world of his own, Mara and everything else forgotten as he contemplated.

What do I want?