Chapter 2: The Manor At The Edge Of Town

Four young farmboys were wandering through the forest. They knew exactly where they were headed. The abandoned mansion with the overgrown garden. They snickered as they sprinted through the bushes.

“I’m faster than you,” The kid in first place screamed and then giggled.

“Not fast as me, I’ve got swift foot enchantment. I can run really fast.” He said. “Psscha!” He shouted at his boots. Then he ran a little faster, but definitely not because of magic.

The kids all laughed until they arrived at a giant stone wall overgrown with thick green vines. The first kid climbed a piece of vine until he was sat on top.

“I can see it!” The kid said, eyes wide with wonder. He pointed at a huge mansion. The other kids soon joined them at the top.

They looked at a stone manor, with wooden balconies and a garden of overgrown flowers. It was two storied, with a lot of intricate patterning on the outside of the house. The exterior looked broken, and dismal. Boarded up windows let only a little light inside. The kids were curious.

“Woooooaaaah,” the second kid said. “This place is bloody, stinky massive.”

“Stinky massive for sure.” The third kid agreed.

“I claim it! Hahahahah!” The first kid said loudly. Then he jumped off the wall into the yard of the abandoned mansion.

He clambered from the bushes with haste and ended up face to face with a giant stone alligator. “Haha cool!” The kid said. His motions and words were followed by the three other kids almost exactly.

He walked towards the house, parting overgrown grass with his feet. He arrived to a wooden porch surrounding the house and looked around for movement. He looked back at the front gate and saw something move. It was a person from town. They were carrying a crate.

“Gronk” the kid said, angrily. He pushed the other kids behind a large flower hedge and told them to keep quiet. The boys peered through the cracks in the foliage as the stranger approached the front gate. The iron bars were unlocked and the stranger wandered inside. He had company. Four men walked behind him, also carrying crates. The boys watched the men put the crates by the front door. Then without saying a word, the men nervously left. Locking the gates behind them.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

The kids waited for a little while but the owner of the house did not arrive to pick up his crates. The first boy walked to the steps of the house and moved a cloth from the top of the crate. It was open, and full of delicious food. The kid immediately reached for a bread roll and started eating it. It was tasty. He called over the other kids. The kids started eating.

A pair of eyes watched them concealed behind some trees in the garden. It was a man dressed in a suit with a short wild haircut, and a neat tidy beard. He had brown hair and he watched the kids laugh and eat. He wasn’t upset. He was amused. He remembered when he would play like that, almost 200 years before. He smiled. He decided to let them eat all his pastries and sweets, but when the boys moved their attention to the crate full of whisky, the man decided to intervene. They were his groceries after all.

The boys were uncorking a bottle of whisky when they heard a slow rumbling growl, as if from a massive beast. The kids looked at the garden where they saw a timberwolf in the bushes, watching them. It was black, with a grey underbelly, and red eyes. It had a stump instead of a tail and it was covered in scars. The kids dropped the food and ran for the front gate, which magically opened for them, and closed when they left running into the forest.

The wolf slowly transformed in a cloud of magic back to a suited man. He walked up the front steps and took a seat on the creaky timber step. He then uncorked the whisky bottle the child had tried to open with a very sharp canine tooth and started gulping down the drink while looking at his garden. He took in the view for a while. Then walked back inside at sunset. His house was immaculate inside. The interior was shiny and new. The man walked over to his desk, where parchment and quills lay waiting for his gifted hands.

He finished the last pages of his newest book and then sat in his chair and took a sigh. On his shelves around him were thousands of books. All handwritten by the werewolf. On his walls were paintings of the wolfman with different adventurers. All were painted many years before, and many of the faces in the paintings belonged to dead friends. Some passed due to battle, but most were met by old age. The wolf man was two hundred and forty. Immortality was part of his enchantment. The man had watched his family grow old and pass. This was his life now. He wrote books, and every Sunday at noon, the townspeople provided him with food. This was a secret exchange with the farmers, the wolf gave generously from his large savings. The farmers agreed to spread rumours of the haunted mansion in the town to keep people away.

The wolf had a large bank account from his years of travelling and adventuring. He was also a top seller at the library for the past hundred or so years. He was drinking from his whisky when he heard a knock.

The wolf cautiously turned, then he heard a voice.

“Hi, it’s me,” said Freya.

“I’m coming, stand back a bit.” The wolf said. He flicked a wrist and opened the door. Freya was standing back a little bit. He saw the elf standing there in her armour, smiling.

“You bitch! Where’s my fucking tail?”