The day was windless and clear, which was quite rare for the north. Good omen.

Silas stumbled through snow with eyes half shut. He was still not fully awake, and, truth be told, didn't feel like much fighting.

"Hey, ginger minger, get your ass moving before I kick it", growled Jonna as he walked past him. Silas let out a howl of anger. They had been going for hours, with only brief halts. And not far ahead now were the darkest depths of the Copper Forest, and Hedderik, the forbidden realm of the Bjorgs, that lay just beyond it. Naturally. He. Was. Tired.

But, of course, Silas knew better than to voice his discontent. He was now far behind Jonna and the rest and nothing was stopping him from taking a short break. I'll rest for a few moment, and then, catch up with them in no time, he reasoned. It was not really the right place for a halt, but what could possibly go wrong?..

Wish I knew whose brilliant idea it was to hold the trial in november, he grunted as he sloshed into the soft snow. Siles knew, of course, that it was a tradition rooted in the distant past. Ulle, his late father's second cousin, once explained that Varge despises the weak and exalts those who are willing to face the challenges. Eh, no wonder he is not that found of me, Silas laughted bitterly. It's not like he was a lazy ass, or a coward, no. But was Silas the type who rushes headlong into challenges? The answer was also, no.

As the boy caught his breath, he became gradually aware of the cold sweat running down his spine, and the heart pounding loud in his head. Shouldn't have drunk that much yesterday, Silas scolded himself, starting to feel slightly sick. No, no time for all that. I just let my eyes rest for a few more moments, and then I'll be back on the way. In reality, however, as soon as his eyes closed, the boy fell fast asleep.

In his dream, he wandered about in semi-darkness in search of...something he yet didn't know. At times a voice could be heard, weak and quiet, which would call for someone named Silas.

Silas. That was his name, the boy remembered.

But who could possibly find him in there? And then he noticed it, something, walking very softly in the distance. Some sort of animal, not so big yet but fast growing before Silas's eyes. It noticed him too, but made neither attempt to flee nor to attack.

The bear cub.

"Was it you who called me?", asked Silas and started laughing at his own question immediately. Animals don't talk like humans, silly. Of course they don't. But the bear cub seemed to understand whatever was being said by Silas. It looked intently at the boy and without a word nodded its furry head. Its eyes, Silas fancied, had started to glow pale red.

Anyone who denies what he is, inevitably becomes a stranger to himself.

Now wake up!, the voice commanded and the walls echoed:

WAKE UP!

WAKE UP!

wake up!

Silas woke up with a start, as though someone had given him the icy slap. The remnants of a queer dream fast dying out in him. Oh, no, no, no, NO!, he mumbled, refusing to believe that all this was happening. I absolutely did not fell asleep. I could've not. But the reality was that he did, and slept so long the weather turned bad and dark, heavy clouds choked the sky. Daylight was now fast waning and, panic-stricken Silas stumbled around, unsure which direction to take.

The forest stood silent, motionless and snow was falling on the ground. It must have been snowing for a while since all the tracks he might have hoped to find were now deeply buried under the white blanket.

Idiot, Silas finally decided to go south-east. At leats he though he headed south-east. And with that confidence, he ventured into the unknown.

It was not long after this that a snow squall began. Northern gods were renowned for their specific sense of humor, remembered Silas. Very specific indeed. Caught up in the middle of the snowstorm, he could not appreciate a joke. Instead, the tears came; and Silas didn't even try to stop them. So what if gods will deem him weak now? He was alone, and lost, and most likely missed the trial, and all of that was his own fault. Then out of nowhere, he was suddenly hit with realisation - what if he'll never find a way out and in that forest today will meet his inglorious demise?

No, this can't be.

Traipsing blindly through the blizzard, Silas lost count of time. But it seemed to him that more than an hour had already passed, and he had not yet found a soul. Legs below the knees have gone numb, and Silas feared even if he somehow manages to get out, he'll lose a limb or two. And needles to say each one of his limbs was very dear to the boy.

Now there came a glimmer of a blue light before him.

"Bragge!", Silas called. No answer. "Ulle?". Nothing still. And even if there was someone in the woods, how could they possibly hear his cry through the rushing of the wind? If only there was someone...but no one actually was there.

[https://i.imgur.com/AqhEHWR.jpg]

Silas continued to wander around and when his powers could not hold him any longer, at last collapsed to the ground. With his back againts the mojereznik tree, he sat still gazing at shadows and waiting for the death to come.

The more evening twilight thickened, the more things he saw. Silas hallucinated the bjorgs – half-humans, half-demons, about whom he heard a lot. As a child, Silas was made to believe the bjorgs were monsters that scurry near Kobbertrellan at night. They loot craddles in search for kids, warned the old Birna. And if they find some, they'll snatch them, and eat them. Those stories kept little Silas awake. Until he grew up and learned that the bjorgs were humans, just like the northerners. In fact, they were descendants of invaders that many ages ago sailed to the Oierhopf on a gigantic boats from the islands unnamed. The bjorgs, unlike northerners, did not worship any gods, and no shrines, and no temples were erected in Hedderrik, their small kingdom, built on the frozen land and isolated now from the northern princedoms by the Copper Forest. As their main occupation was trade, bjorgern merchants from time to time would come to Kobbertrellan to buy some fish and to sell some useless trinklets to locals and then be off again. Northeners did not welcome bjorgs with open arms, though. For they are heretics, insisted Bragge. But Silas, at his age of fourteen, was pretty much convinced his people were simply envious of bjorg's seeming wealth.

As for legendary beastmen, Silas believed in them as strongly now as bjorgs believed in gods. However, in his current predicament, beastmen talents were starting to seem useful. Ah, to turn into polar wolf, Silas fantasized, delirious. Curl into a ball and to hell with the storm!

He was already on the verge of eternal sleep, when he heard it. The roar, tremendously loud, echoed around the forest and the sound of it was truly terrifying. Silas, brought back to reality, shivered. Suddenly, the same blue light he saw earlier shone out bright through the tree-trunks just a few hundred feet ahead. Then out of the shadows, the mighty figure appeared. The bear, Silas yelped. And it is moving in on me.

The hunters say there is no worse way to die than to be gored by a bear. They say as well the bears hibernate during the winter. Well, old duffers were obviously wrong about that. But the death part still was true, that was for sure.

Slowly, Silas got up.

The beast was closing in fast - much faster than Silas was readying himself for a... What exactly am I going to do?, he asked himself, and the answer came conveniently quick. I have to kill it before it kills me, Silas unsheathed his sword as he thought it.

[https://i.imgur.com/ewo2bv5.jpg]

Was fighting a bear really a good idea? Hell no, but it was his last chance to get the mercy of gods. His trial. No time to think. With a mad leap Silas hauled himself up and in one clean strike attacked the beast. But the bear reared up and swiped his paw down on Silas. And easily knocked boy over. He flew away aside, having hit the head against a nearest tree-trunk. Few moment later his sword with a dull "boom" landed somewhere beyond the reach of hands. Silas himself was sprawled out on the ground under the rednymh and a trickle of blood ran down his face. The ringing in the ears grew louder with every passing moment, and it seemed his leg was badly hurt as well. For a short while the beast gone out of sight but soon reappeared, advancing again, this time a bit slower. The bears eyes - two flames of coldest fire. Silas had never seen anything like this before. Not just a beast..., he realized. A demon in disguise!

But was this really changing anything? Silas faced his fate with bravery and honor, and yet couldn't withstand its cruelty. Varge can kiss my ass, he thought and immediately after, coincidentally or not, felt a a strong spasms in his head and stomach.

And then one surge of pain came after another, until he could feel nothing else but said pain. Not even bear's claws that already been tearing up his flesh could inflict more suffering on Silas. He felt as if every last one of his bones was now broken, and every tendonds and ligaments were torn. The bear started to dig its claws into Silas' chest. Blood was everywhere, but the boy did not die yet. Why won't I die? With death comes peace, the wise ones said. But Silas' mind was a mess. And something yet unknown tried to crawl out from the deepest depths of it.

Silas couldn't bear the suffering any longer and, summoning his last breath, he howled. No, roared.

And then the pain was gone at once.

The demon recoiled in horror. Fast, but not nearly fast enought. Silas already managed to slash its furry throat with his own razon-sharp claws. For gods' sake, claws?! It's demon's blood was all over his face now, and its taste he savored in his mouth. Surprisingly good, Silas admitted with what he though was a smirk. Then jumped to his feet and sprinted forward, ready to fight again.

The last thing he remebered was the sloshing sound coming right under his paws.

And then everything was darkness.

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«He has a fever!», said a stranger, a woman. From time to time Silas would come to himself, not for long though, and only to pass out again.

«Why are we making such a fuss out of it? He's like me, he'll be just fi-i-i-ine», grumbled another stranger, a man, seemingly young.

What happened in the Copper Forest was a dream and he wanted to wake up from it. He needed to get out of bed. But not to move, it seemed to Silas that he couldn't even lift one lid. He tried, and tried but ultimately would drift back to sleep again.

«We wouldn't have to care for him if you didn't hunt in the Copper Forest in the first place…Seriously, Bil, what were you even thinking?!».

«The loner, lost in the snowstorm, he was as good as dead», someone gently put a cold washcloth on his forehead. Silas moaned. «How could I possibly know..?»

There was a long silence. At length the girl spoke again. «Bjorn could've banished you, you do realize that?…If the boy had died, he could've executed you».

«Well, lucky me, little brat lives».

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«How's he doing?», asked a man. His voice' was low, and strong. Silas never heard it before.

«Hibernating», replied a woman. Silas believed her name was Katherine. «The Rik's blood is particularly strong in him…».

While she was speaking, a man said nothing.

«And yet, it simply was not his time. The beast wakes up when its ready, but his beast was woken, and now turning feral. I feel its rage, and its hunger. And I fear neither can be easily quenched».

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Once again, a man said nothing in reply. Then Katherine snapped at him: "Did you know? Answer me, you son of a bitch, did you know?".

"I did".

«Curse you, Bjorn! Why did you leave him there? The boy belongs to us, he's not fit to live among the humans!».

«Silas. His name is Silas», said Bjorn.

Katherine snorted, but Bjorn continued to speak and she to listen.

«After Skegge's death, Igrid had no one, except for the child in the womb. When Silas was born, she begged me to let her have him».

«Ah! And so you did. How noble of you», from every word she spoke oozed poison. «And what would have happened if he and Bil had never crossed paths? Had he become the beast right there, he would've gored up good half of Kobbertrellan before they'd kill him. If they'd even managed to kill him. And what do you think would jarls say to that? Would they honor the oath if one of us had broken it first?".

«You're right. But then again, he's only fourteen. Just a child yet. The awakening was a few years away still. And then there was a chance he would not turn at all».

"And now, apparently you're also blind!".

Katherine put her hand on Silas' forehead, then, moving it slowly, stroked his freckled cheeks. Such a brisque yet gentle gesture.

«That's the irony, you know. I look at him, but it is you that I see», she fell silent for a bit, and then spoke again. «Seeing this face every day, for years...Poor Igrid».

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First he saw the vague shape of coffered ceiling, then the wall hangings slowly came into focus. Still, everything was blurry. Silas blinked his eyes several times before vision returned and he was at last able to see the room clearly. He wasn't at home, that was for sure. As the matter of fact, Silas had no idea what the place was or to whom it belonged. But one riddle at a time.

After inspecting the room, he then tried to move his legs. It seemed nothing was missing and both of them were still attached to his body - how very fortunate. Next he raised his hands, and felt a slight tingle in his fingertips, still nothing resembling pain or soreness. Actually, his entire body felt fine.

The bed was made of wood, and covered with furs and linen. And it was an actual bed, not a straw mat. For a brief moment Silas even enjoyed its comfort, but only until the memories of a fight had come back. Stricken, Silas jumped to his feet, warm fur covers fell to the floor. An actual floor. Yeah, this place must've belonged to someone important, or someone immensely wealthy. Immediately, he felt the coolness of the air brushing lightly over his naked skin, smooth and white. Silas looked for scars, but found none.

The hosts had left for their guest a few pieces of clothing, including fur-lined cloak and leather boots. Everything was made of the most exquisit and expensive materials, although nothing was appropriate for the winter. Better than go in the state of nature, so he put it all on anyway. Only now Silas started to notice some changes in his appearance, such as his muscles being more defined and his hair getting long, at this point almost touching his shoulders. He thought he became taller too.

Once he had been all dressed up and booted, Silas was ready to go. Cautiously, he opened the door to explored the surroundings. Instantly his eyes were caught by two male figures sitting on a bench right next to the door. Though both guards were asleep, as Silas passed them, he noted they had been armed to teeth.

Trying to be as quite as possible, Silas slipped into the passing hall, long and brightly lighted with some sort of lamps. He didn't like it for there was nowhere to hide in case he'll run into someone. But hoping for the best, he venture into it.

At the end of the corridor he got down the flight of stairs, that lead to a spacious hall, the Great Hall, Silas realised. For it seemed to be the bjorgen king's palace itself he had been wandering about all this time. No guards in sight, though. Well, luck's must be on my side, he thought as he rushed straight to the doors. Some part of him felt like he should wait til the morning, for northern tradition demanded him to properly thank his hosts. No freaking way I'll stay here any longer, and the woman's voice came from the depths of his memory: to hunt in the Copper Forest…Seriously, Bil, what were you even thinking?!.

Silas wasn't sure if what he heard were the real conversations, and not the inventions of the fevered mind. But what he didn't doubt now, is that he faced the legendary beastman in battle that night. And who knows what else can be found dwelling here? No, no time to adhere to northern decency. Silas also wasn't that dumb to mistaken the armed guars for a sign of hospitality.

The night outside was clear and surprisingly warm. And as one can expect, the only light sources were the moon and the starts.

They must've kept me drunk on something, Silas ghashed his teeth. He obviously had slept through the whole winter and gods know what time of a year it was now. He strained his ears and listened to the sounds around - but everything seemed almost quiet and the only clearly distinguished noise was a distand metal clank. Silas decided to follow it as the clank might well have led him to the gates.

But instead it lured him to what could have been Hedderik's central square. It, of course, was almost deserted at the hour, except for one shadowy figure, that sat, head slightly bowed, at the foot of the massive pillar. The man looked queer to Silas with his chest and arms covered in some sort of pattern.

[https://i.imgur.com/NMtLSZx.jpg]

A stranger apparently had noticed Silas' presence and raised his head, staring defiantly. For the reasons unknown, instead of running away, Silas moved closer. As he approached, he realized that stranger's eyes started to glow. Just like the eyes of a beastman in the woods. But iron collar rounded his neck, and with a tremendous relief Silas realized the man was actually chained to the pillar.

The stranger greeted him with a huge grin: "Woke up at last, little brat". Silas remembered this voice. «Must've been nice to luxuriate in bed all this time, while I was sitting here on public display, chained like an animal».

"Bil..", Silas gasped. "The shackles suits you well".

Clearly unappreciative of his sense of humor, Bil swung a chain at him. And as Silas flinched, he seemed extremely pleased with himself. Silas noted the boy was hardly older than him.

«What are you, Bil?», he asked, trying to regain some of the dignity.

Instead of answering the question, Bil pushed himself up and dashed forward, stopping just short of Silas' nose. The chain was now threateningly taut behind him. "You really know nothing, do you?, Bil asked, his breath unpleasantry warm against Silas' face.

But this time he neither flinched, nor backed away. The boy grinned again, and took a step back. «Aren't you scared of me?".

"No", Silas lied.

"Bullshit. You reek of fear", Bil replied, still recoiling. "Do you know what is the danger of fear for someone like us? It overpowers the other senses, and quiclky steals the control from the human part. Now, take a look at your hands, little brat, and see for yourself just how quick it can happen".

A chill run down Silas' spine when he did what Bil told him to. And although his hands didn't magically turn into paws, and actually looked fairly similar to the human ones, there still was a huge difference. Claws. Silas' fingertips were now the long, hooked claws. He glanced at Bil helplessly, as if the boy could do something.

But Bil started to laughted like a delighted child. "So-o, now you are getting to understand...".

Silas, of course, understood nothing. He felt as if he was in a stranger's body, completely lost to himself. Bewildered with everything happening, he turned sharply from Bil and sprinted away, running like his life depended on it.

Bil shouted after him: «Run, little brat, run as far as you can, but you cannot flee».

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But Silas did. Besides himself with terror, he ran and ran until he reached a pitch-dark forest. And then he fled it, as if the horde of beastmen was after him. But in reality, no one seemingly chased Silas - all was quiet as a grave around. At last he stopped and stood motionless for a moment, listening. Right, there was no sound of a chase, and only his own ragged breaths disturbed the silence. This gave Silas little comfort...

...As the boy continued on his way home, he became aware of a strange feeling at the back of his head. He, occupied with more important stuff at the moment, didn't think much of it. Accursed demon must have bewitched me, he told himself. The spell will fade soon and I'll be just fine. I survived, that's all that really matters.

But was it so?..

Everybody knew that northerners set to work at first light. But by the time when Silas reached Kobbertrellan the sun was long up above the horizon. Approaching the open gates, he heard choirs of voices, mixed with bellowing of cattles and the bleating of sheeps. He listened to the gentle sound of the suft on the coast, and a rustling of wings in the gardens. And then, most likely for the first time ever, Silas was happy to see old Adda's blotchy red face, and to hear her squeaky voice.

She was first one to notice a stranger walking down the main road. And as soon as she recognized Silas in him, yelled:

"Lod!", - that was her husband's name. - "Lod, you old geezer! Look who the goat dragged in!".

Upon Adda's screams not only sluggish Lod, but what seemed to be the whole village showed up. At last, Silas found himself surrounded by a crowd of sour-faced northerners - not exactly the greeting he was hoping for. As more and more people gathered around him, Silas started to hear whisperings.

Then someone said out loud: "Pathetic coward!". Others instantly picked up the accusation and then all chanted: "Coward! Coward! Coward!".

Gradually, Silas started to realise what was happening.

They decided I fled the trial! The accusation seemed so unfair, that his eyes welled up with tears. A strange feeling at the back of his head grew, now mingled with anger.

"Silas?", Bragge's husky voice came from the crowd. Silas looked at his uncle with beseeching eyes. But the old man's face was distorted in a mask of dissappointment.

The day was calm with clear skies, but Silas felt like he was standing in the pouring ice-cold rain.

«Look at you, how big you'd gotten», Bragge said.

«I didn't flee», Silas rasped, not very convincing.

"Yeah, sure. You just took a walk, a very long one", said Jonna scathingly. Silas glanced at him and immediately noticed rope-and-leather bracelet around fat wrist, sward's distinguishing mark for sure. He passed the trial. Of course he did, Silas thought bitterly as Jonna continued to speak. "And on a way back, you must've been taken by wicked alves to their underground palaces. I can't see any other explanation to why you dressed in all that furs". There was a grimace of resentment of his ruddy face.

A vein throbbed on his temple while Silas was thinking of what to say. But in the end he said nothing.

«We had been looking for you, you know", Bragge spoke again. "For six months we had been looking for you, up until a few weeks ago, when visiting bjorgen merchant happened to mention you had been in Hedderik all this time».

"That's not...exactly true!", Silas protested, mouth full with saliva. He had picked up a few smells in the air, as he spoke. Smoke, porridge, grass, sweat,...blood.

"Then tell us what really happened!", demanded Ulle. "We are fair people, and will judge you justly".

"What's to hear!", Jonna interrupted him. "It is all clear - the son of a whore will always be a coward. To cut a long story short, bastard shitted his pants and ran for his life".

At the moment, something snapped inside Silas. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out of it except for guttural growl. Too low for the human ears to hear still.

"If he wants us to listen, I say, he will have to fight me first", Jonna reached for his sword, but Ulle seized him by the arm.

"It's not the time for a fight!".

"And why is that?!", he pulled out his hand from Ulle's grip. "Everyone know the rule: gut the cowards before noon!"

As the situation unfolded, people waited for Silas at least to speak in his defense. But he wasn't there anymore. With saliva drooling from both sides of his mouth, and blood dripping from his hands, the beastman instead stood there glaring at them ferociously. Even Jonna noticed enought to realise something wasn't right.

"Hey, what is wrong with you, bastard? Has bjorgen mead made you sick in the mind?", he asked apprehensively.

And then it started to happen.

"Everyone! Get away from him!", yelled Bragge as he pushed Jonna aside with all his might.

"I feel its rage, and its hunger. And I fear neither can be easily quenched" - the strange feeling took the physical form. At first it released claws, then built up muscles, and at last grew auburn fur. The beast within could not wait any longer for it was hungry, so hungry.

Unfortunately for Jonna, it chose him for appetizer. And Bragge couldn't do much. The beast knocked Jonna over and threw him against the gates as a ragdoll. Then it attacked, first clawing into his chest, then tearing his limbs off one by one with its fangs. Swards began to shoot arrows at the beast as it was still ripping poor Jonna apart. It did no good. After it mauled the boy, the beast launched into a rampage, attacking everybody on its path. The blood was splashing everywhere, and the chunks of flesh and insides were scattering around Kobbertrellan fast.

How was it Silas could not have noticed his mother's terrified face in the midst of the chaotic crowd? To her luck, Igrid managed to flee, but many others didn't.

The rising wind ruffled his matted hair, as Silas wandered through the Copper Forest, battered and crushed in spirit. In his minds eye the boy replicated all the horrors the beast had done...Or was it he who did it?

Ulle's arrows were still sticking out from his thigh and shoulder and there were deep cuts all over his now transformed back to its human form body. If I was a human, I would've already bled to death, Silas admited to himself. But, I'm no human, I'm a monster.

He then remebered Jonna's last moments. So, we fought each other after all, Silas grew even more disgusted with himself. He remembered Bragge. The old sward, who did not raise a sword against him. Could it be possible uncle knew all along who I...?

A sudden sound of snapping branches merged with a blasting sound of leaves being rustled had brought Silas out of trance.

"Who's there?", he called.

The only reply was the muffled sound of footsteps. Silas held his breath, waiting for whatever was coming his way.

And it was not long before said whatever stepped out of the bushes, smiling triumphantly. Silas groaned at the sight of him.

"Not you again!".

Bil's chiseled face was covered in beads of sweat, and his blue eyes shone, but definitely didn't glow.

"You're the frisky one, little brat", Bil looked at Silas from his head to his feet and smirked. "Father got half the Hedderik looking for you. Hoped someone will find you on time. But I bet, no one did".

Silas looked back at him with ice in his eyes and said: "Fine, let's get over it, Bil. Kill me if you like, but spare me this talk".

And there was nothing stopping Bil from doing so. Silas' was already hardly standing, and as for the beast, it satisfied it's hunger and was nowhere to be found. It saved my life once, Silas realised. But was it worth the price I paid?

Bil looked a bit confused for a moment, but then shook his head and smirked again.

"Let's go home, little brat", he went to Silas, gripped his arm and half carried him and half walked him back to Hedderik. Both were quiet all the way there but just as they were approaching the palace, Bil spoke again: "You know, Si, if you ever get this hungry again, just ask the cooks for the special. They make a fine human stew, finger-licking fine I daresay!".

Silas' stomach dropped the moment he heard it, and he threw up.

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