"You fucking cunts! I'll fucking kill you," were the first words I heard as my hearing recovered.

From the periphery of my vision, I could see Aurel get back to his feet and pick up his bastard sword. The timing couldn't have been better, as the Lycan was beginning to recover, and we needed to take advantage of this opening before he was fully healed. Aurel attacked him while he was still kneeling, making sure to target the part of his head that was already wounded.

The Lycan bellowed in pain and began to transform. Their transformation was a painfully brutal one. Bones broke and reset, skin ripped apart and healed, muscles were torn and repaired. We had never seen a Lycan transform from its human form to its Lycanthrope form, we had only ever seen the reverse when they were killed. We were in no way prepared for how violent they behaved while transforming.

Aurel stood in stunned dismay as he watched the scene unfold, clutching the hilt of his bastard sword, he held it upright in front of his body with both hands. It was a standard stance warriors took when they couldn't attack, but were prepared to be attacked at any moment. A typical defensive stance.

I watched helplessly as a partially transformed arm was swung at Aurel, the claws from the now longer arm broke through his defense and caught Aurel squarely on the face. The force threw Aurel back a few feet, he was only stopped by the boulder he hit.

At the time I couldn't see too clearly what his condition was, but I knew he was out of the fight for the time being. Meanwhile, I hadn't fully recovered. I still couldn't move my left arm, my spine still hurt and my vision was still a bit hazy. Even though I had recovered my hearing enough to pick out sounds, the ringing hadn't stopped and I knew if I tried to walk now my balance would be off.

We were in a dire situation as the transforming Lycan was still rampaging. It didn't look like it had any reason as it thrashed about. Once its transformation was complete and the pain subsided, its reasoning would return and we would be in more trouble.

"You fool. You never cease to disappoint me. Is a single Lycan too much for you?" My father's displeased voice rang in my ears.

I recognized the magic. [Mind talk] was a relatively difficult spell to cast, and it had a limited range. Of course, the more adept one was at it, and the more in tune one was with the powers granted by the permission from a god, the further the spell could stretch.

My father was quite a powerful mage, not as much as my sister and my mother, but very few mages I knew could best him when it came to magic. So I had no way of knowing if he was close to us at all, but if I was within range of [mind talk] then his other spells could reach me too.

{Zhibog Deus, dona mihi auctoritate cura animarum pauperum, qui media positus deterioratus est ante me}

I recognized the incantation for that spell. Incantations weren't really necessary to cast a spell. Some mages needed it due to the constraints the god's placed on them. My father was contracted to Zhibog ­­­- Zhiva. They are two individual gods but considered one being as they are tied together through marriage.

Father's situation though was a bit different than most other mages. The other mages that needed incantations to cast their spells were simply not completely in tune with the powers granted them and needed to ask permission to use their powers. Father's incantation was a way to differentiate between the individuals that granted him the single permission.

Father was tied to the gods of life, love, and fertility. Zhibog represented life and Zhiva represented love and fertility. They were very powerful gods too, so the effect their powers displayed was very immense. There was a limit placed on father though, he could bring anyone back from the brink of death, but he wasn't allowed to bring back the dead.

Veles who ruled death would go on a rampage if a soul that had made it into his domain was snatched away. Veles' temper was something to be feared, as his displeasure led to multiple disasters for any living thing. Crops died, oceans dried and diseases took the lives of many. The only way to satiate his anger was to give back the soul that was snatched and the souls responsible for the theft.

So, it was considered taboo to raise the dead. However, that was the only restriction placed on my father. Even within the ranks of gods, Zhibog - Zhiva ranked very high. Father's healing could regrow limbs, heal damaged organs and pull back a soul already at the door of Veles' domain.

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So hearing father speak the incantation to cast [ Grand Heal] filled me with unspeakable joy. I would only later find out that father had been notified of my precarious position due to the necklace I had equipped. A function it had that I was unaware of was that it notified the one that engraved it with the magic of the wearer's state of health the first time it detected danger.

Father having gotten the alert grew curious and cast [Link] and looked through the eyes of the wearer and saw the situation through my eyes. He immediately set off, luckily he was able to get within range for his spells to reach us. [Link] was a special spell that ignored the range limit of mages. Using artifacts that have been engraved with magic, mages could ignore distance and connect using the artifact as a terminal.

The effects of [Grand Heal] didn't take long to take effect once the spell was cast. My hearing immediately returned, my arm regained life and my three digits started to reform. I slowly got back to my feet only to see Aurel making his way towards me.

"Whose magic was that?" He asked me.

I had been friends with him for many years, but somehow I was still amazed by how slow he sometimes was. There was only one mage we both knew powerful enough to cast a spell of this magnitude from range, and it was my father.

"It is father's," was my short reply.

Meanwhile, in the distance, the Lycan's transformation seemed to be done. He stood about 10 feet tall, eyes that glowed blood red. We called them wolves because they called themselves wolves, but in reality, they looked nothing like wolves.

They still stood upright and were bipedal, their arms stretched so far it almost touched the ground. While they did have the facial features of wolves, that's where all the resemblance ended. Their fur usually was black, but apparently, the color changed the more powerful the Lycan.

There was a myth about the most powerful Lycan that had red fur. According to the myth, the Lycan with red fur was the longest surviving Lycan and was considered the king of the species. It had been granted special powers of chaos by Angra Mainyu and was both feared and revered by other Lycans.

No one knows when this myth was born. It simply was passed down by older generations. Many speculations about its existence exist. Some firmly believe it to be true, and postulate that the reason there was no proof of its existence was that no one had encountered it and lived to tell the tale. Others simply considered it an old wives tale.

Anyway, the Lycan before us had black fur. I could see the part of his head that was blown open by the explosion had recovered. It was staring at us and snarling. The amount of bloodlust oozing from it told us only one thing; from here on out it would be coming at us seriously.

Luckily for us, we were no longer alone. There was finally a mage that would aid us. A powerful one at that. Taking down one Lycan wasn't going to be an easy feat, but the difficulty had been reduced immensely. Aurel and I had been healed, I could feel myself become stronger and lighter too. No doubt the effect of buff magic cast on us.

"Aurel, are you ready?" I asked.

"Let's deal with that bastard before the others get alerted," he replied.

I heard what was close so laughter exit the mouth of the Lycan. In that form, they couldn't form words. Their facial expressions were difficult to discern too, so there was no way to communicate with a transformed Lycan.

I heard that amongst themselves they could still communicate. No doubt what sounded like growls, howls, snarls, and whimpers meant something different to another Lycan. So I couldn't know for sure if he was laughing at us, but it sounded like he was.

"Is that fucker laughing at us?" Aurel asked as he gripped his bastard sword tighter.

"Calm down. If we act carelessly this ground will be our grave," I said to him.

Aurel might be slow, but he was by no means a hothead. Having been in many battles and seen many die due to carelessness, he was perhaps more cautious than even me. However, a Lycan had taken the life of his father only recently. He was understandably eager to get revenge. So was I, but I was able to maintain my calm only because Titus wasn't my father.

No matter how close I was to Titus, Aurel was closer to him. No matter how painful I found his passing, Aurel was in more pain. No matter how angry I was, Aurel was angrier. I knew this because I had also experienced losing a parent to the Lycan. Knowing this helped me control my emotions. Especially around Aurel. I couldn't act too rashly as I had to consider the pain my friend was in.

"Our normal tactics aren't working. Enchanted weapons seemed to be effective, but now that he's transformed I can't be too sure. And we don't have enough leeway to test out theories." I continued, worried about the task in front of us.

"Those knives seem the most effective. How many do you have left?" He asked.

"I have 8," I answered.

"It should be enough. This time aim for his heart first. Father told me once that they took longer to recover from a damaged heart," he said as he got into an offensive stance.

He lowered his sword and spread his feet, one in front of the other. He lowered his center of gravity by bending his waist slightly. To give himself the best possible launch from his standing position he bent his knee a little and then took off.

My task was easy, scan for opportunities to attack using the explosive knives. With father's magic buffing us we should be able to put up a much better fight than before.