*The day after the events of the previous chapter*

*6/7/90*

The weather was uncommonly clear today. Barely any clouds marred the sky's blue expanse, and the few that did were white and peaceful.

If Silver had been back in the main continent, she would have welcomed it, but in the north, it simply meant that there would be no falling snow to cover her tracks. It restricted her range to only a few miles, any further would run the risk of Spirits discovering her. Still, it was easier avoiding the Spirits than the Greatwolves.

However, thanks to her father's teachings, Silver could bypass this obstacle by taking control over one of the Shadows that wandered the land. This became her go-to method of scouting and exploration since arriving in the north, and it has served her extremely well.

From the safety of her den, Silver saw the world through the eyes of a Hound patrolling the snow-covered woods. She smelled what it smelled, heard what it heard, and felt it felt. Her will controlled its actions as if it were her very own body she was using.

She willed it to venture west, towards the Spirits nest just outside her territory. She had failed to raze it when she first came here and had not attacked since due to its close proximity to her den. If the Shadows struck again, they could easily be traced back to her sanctuary.

It was more akin to a small fortress than a nest, really. Towers erected around its perimeter let their sentries see an approaching horde miles away, strong walls shielded the Spirits from harm, and powerful Crystal-shooters mowed down anything in their way.

Even with the cover of a billowing blizzard, the Shadows would be detected. The nest possessed an unknown number of iron golems, unnatural contraptions forged in metal and fueled by Crystals. They could somehow see through the thick snowfall and alert their Spirit masters of the threat.

They were the Spirits' version of Shadows, in a sense. Tireless beasts that knew neither pain nor fear. Obedient and ruthless, their armored bodies and weapon limbs let them go head to head with a Shadow.

Silver learned this in her first assault on the nest three weeks ago. A mighty blizzard engulfed the land and the darkness of night concealed her pack from sight. But before they reached the nest, a hail of bullets tore through the air and annihilated Silver's vanguard. She had dropped to the ground, as her father had taught her to do when Crystal-shooters were used and watched as her force was obliterated by the unseen attackers.

Then, from out of the storm, they soundlessly charged.

Silver first thought them to be Spirit warriors or even tamed Greatwolves, but when she sensed no emotion emanating from their beings she knew she was wrong.

The Shadows she had mustered for the attack were young and inexperienced Hounds, they relied on their instincts in a fight. However, when facing these emotionless automatons metal automatons, whose hide could withstand their claws, they grew confused and frenzied. Easy targets for the golems.

It was their inability to feel that made the iron golems such potent weapons against the Shadows. When nests were capable of repelling an attack or two, the negative emotions produced from the attacks served as a beacon for more and more Shadows. The Spirits' hatred towards their enemy ultimately becomes their undoing.

The iron golems, on the other hand, were without soul or emotion. They felt no sadness, anger, jealousy, loneliness, or hatred.

So long as they were the ones fighting the Shadow waves, the Spirits would remain positive, and the nest would be out of Silver's reach.

After her retreat, Silver traveled to the east and found a cave hidden within a cliff. The entrance was small and difficult to reach, but once inside Silver claimed it for herself.

The tunnel-like entrance led into a surprisingly spacious cavern, nowhere near the size of the Gulch cavern of course, but suitable for her needs. It was lit by the same glowing plants found in the Gulch. Silver quickly set about exploring her new home and found dozens of tunnels that led into other caverns and the outside world as well.

One even led to an underground hot spring.

Silver spent the next two weeks modifying her den. She marked each tunnel with a specific symbol, to avoid losing her way in the underground labyrinth. She spread the glowing plants to the caverns and tunnels that lacked them, cementing them to the walls with a mixture of slush and mud.

The tunnels that led outside presented a dilemma for Silver. While a good amount were small and inconspicuous, some were big enough for adult Spirits and even some smaller Greatwolves to walk at full height, and often opened up in areas easily accessible to them. Silver had these openings blocked off by the Shadows. At her word, they filled them with rocks and covered them in several feet of ice and snow.

Only one large entryway was left open, to allow small Shadows passage into her domicile. The remote valley where it led out was filled with large, ice-coated rocks and fallen trees. Silver concealed the entrance with large pine branches, making it nearly impossible to notice.

Unfortunately, there were only a few hundred Shadows in the area currently, mostly Hounds and a few young Bears. More would come, the Shadows were naturally drawn to Silver and her father after all, but this would take time. Many of the older, more powerful Shadows would have to travel down from the icy north where Spirit and Greatwolf numbers were lower. Until then, Silver would keep a close eye on the nest, using the Shadows to look for any weaknesses she could exploit.

The sound of voices and the smell of irritation made her halt the Hound's advance. Spirits were close by.

Silver was curious. They usually didn't come this way. Quietly, she had the Hound stalk towards the source of the chatter.

It was a small pack, six adults bundled up in heavy coats, long-barreled Crystal-shooters slung over their shoulders. They were not Hunters, thankfully, nor were they heading towards her den, but whatever their destination was, the path they were taking was close enough to her den to warrant concern.

Silver willed the Hound closer, hoping to hear what they were bickering about. But the Hound accidentally stepped on an unseen patch of weak ice, shattering it and alerting the Spirits to its presence.

They yelled to each other and took aim at the Hound. Silver released her hold on it before they could fire. It gave her a terrible headache whenever a Shadow she was controlling was killed.

Not wishing to lose more of her already meager amount of Shadows, Silver decided this needed her personal attention. She crawled through the tunnel from which she had first discovered her den. Silver was forced to crawl on her claws and knees for twenty-five feet till she reached the outside. She dropped down to the ground below, holding onto the cliff face with her left claw to slow the descent.

When Silver was about ten feet away from the ground, she jumped off the side and landed with a soft thump. The location where the Hound first saw them was about an hour’s walk away, but she knew she might save some time if she headed in the direction they were going.

It was about halfway into her expedition that a howl broke the silence of the world.

arrrRRRRROOOOO!

BANG! BANG!

Silver's eyes went wide.

That was not a Hound's howl…

~o0o~

Stolen novel; please report.

“This is complete bullshit.' Gurney thought with a sneer as he took aim at the last wolf and fired. 'Why do we have to do this?”

For the past month, wolves had been sneaking into Grimmsbane and stealing chickens and lambs. No one knew how they got in until yesterday, when a pair of kids found a hole that went under the wall and led to the outside.

It would have been way easier to just fill it up with cement, but noooo, the farmers wanted the problem taken out at the source. "They'll just dig another hole!" they said.

How could they dig another hole!? It was the middle of fucking winter! The ground was frozen solid! They probably just got lucky when they dug that hole, found a soft spot or something.

But the head of the guard didn't see it that way, so the next day, six of the town's guards set out to track down the wolves and kill them.

Gurney was pissed because he was supposed to have terminal duty today, the cushiest assignment a guard could get. Sit in a nice, warm room, watch a bunch of flashing lights, and pretend you know what buttons to push when the C.O. shows up. Super easy!

But instead, he's put in the fucking hunting group!

Gurney sighed. “At least I might get a new rug out of this.”

They followed the wolf tracks to a den a few hours outside of town in the woods, only stopping to fill a lone Shadow Mutt full of rounds. They reached the den after that, and man, there were a LOT of wolves. Seriously, there were like thirty of the fleabags!

Were, being the key word.

Gurney was pretty sure he got about nine of the wolves, their bodies littered the bloodstained snow like a multicolored fur carpet of gray, brown, white, and black. Ron and Andy were already skinning them, but Gurney just sat down on a fallen log, tired from the long trek and fighting.

"Yo Horace! Can we go now?" Jack asked as he and James kept watch for trouble, "I'm freezing my balls off here."

"Shut up, Jack!" Gurney yelled. "We're all freezing here. You're bitching isn't helping."

"Up yours, lazy fuck!"

"Both of you, shut up." Horace cut in. "You can head back if you want, Jack. 'Course that means you forfeit your cut of the pelts." He said with a smirk.

Jack grumbled but didn't say anything else. That's what Gurney liked about Horace, he could shut anyone up. Especially that rookie, Jack.

"Merry's been whining about me getting her a fur coat," Ron said as he held up a freshly skinned pelt with a smile. "Think she'll finally quit nagging me to get one now?!”

Andy laughed. "Knowing Merry, she's probably gonna think it's too itchy or something and slap ya for it." Everyone got a laugh out of that.

Hhhrrrrr-hhrrnnn…

They stopped laughing when they heard a pathetic whimpering.

The men unslung their rifles, ready to shoot at the surviving wolf. Horace signaled them to wait and carefully snuck up to where the noise came from. He neared the entrance of the den and stopped at one of the bigger wolves' bodies. Gurney watched as he made to turn it over-

THWUNK!

"SHIT!" James yelled out as a white spike came out of nowhere and punctured Horace's skull. They all fired in the direction it came from but then turned when the screaming, and saw Jack gripping a similar spike jutting out of his chest before slumping to the ground. Dead.

"What the hell is going on!?" Andy yelled as the surviving men formed a circle, aiming their guns wildly in every direction. "Is it a Shadow!?"

"How the fuck should I know!?" Gurney yelled back, pissed and scared.

The thickly packed trees hid the attacker from view, making it impossible for the panicked hunters to pinpoint their position.

Every noise made set them off. A broken twig, rustling branches, falling snow. Each sound earned a round or two from the jumpy hunters.

A shuffling bush made James take aim, but his rifle was empty. He made for a spare clip when their attacker shot out of the bush like a bullet and smashed into him like a freight train.

The impact pushed him into the others, and everyone went sprawling to the ground. Gurney picked himself off the ground and faced their attacker, rifle aimed to fire, but was stilled by the sheer horror he saw before him.

In the seconds it took for him to get back up and aim his weapon, the rest of his squad was dead. James's face and throat were slashed open like a turkey at dinner. Andy’s chest now featured a gaping hole that went all the way through. And Ron was missing his head and one of his arms.

And in the center of it all… a little kid wearing a shredded red cloak, surrounded by falling drops of red and blue blood, dripping from her body like sweat and appearing as falling rose petals.

Gurney blinked.

And the last thing he saw before darkness took him was something white speeding right towards him…

~o0o~

The final Spirit fell to the ground with a heavy thud as her quill pierced its head. Alas, the death she inflicted on the Spirits could do little to quell the rage and sorrow that burned within her blackened heart.

Silver knew these wolves. She had encountered them a week ago, during a hunting trip. She had just taken down a large elk stag and was feasting on it, when the their appearance.

They approached Silver warily, stopping several yards away from her, growling and snapping at her but only from a safe distance. Silver ignored them for a time until one wolf decided to approach her. A large black wolf cautiously made its way toward Silver and the stag's corpse.

Silver had always admired wolves. They were the beasts that inspired her father to create the Hounds of Shadows. Intelligent and majestic, she always enjoyed watching the packs of the large continent hunt elk and deer, using tactics and numbers to bring down their prey rather than just brute force.

She ripped off a chunk of venison and offered it to the black wolf. The beast sniffed the meat for a moment before taking it in its mouth and eating it.

Seeing their pack member receiving food from the Shadow’s Heir emboldened the rest to approach her and her kill. Silver was happy to share her kill with such noble hunters and she dined beside the wolves that night.

And now they had been slaughtered.

Silver felt angry tears drip down her cheeks as she gazed over the bodies of the slain canines. Her fangs were clenched in rage as she turned to glare at the corpses of the Spirits that had performed this atrocity.

What reason did they have to kill them? What could possibly justify the slaughter of these innocent creatures? Silver would see to it that every single Spirit in that damn nest was brutally-

Hrrr-hrrrnn…

Silver gasped and went wide-eyed when she heard the pleading whimper of a still-living wolf.

She hurried over to its source, the body of the brave black wolf that first approached her was covering it. Silver gingerly removed the corpse to find something that made her gasp again.

A pup…

The poor thing was sniveling and whining, pawing at the ground with its one good leg. Blood stained its gray fur a dirty crimson, a bullet wound in its side being the cause. It was certain to die, if not from blood loss, then from infection or starvation for sure.

She knelt down and gently picked the small creature up in her giant claws. It offered no resistance as she brought it close to her. Silver couldn't help but weep as she looked down on it. Its ragged breathing tugged at her heart.

Silver wished she could save it. Wished she could somehow stop its bleeding and-

Wait… blood… that was it!

Silver could use her own blood to save this pup from death by changing it into a Shadow.

Shadows were immune to infection and could endure pain indefinitely. Any wounds received in battle would quickly heal after the adrenaline of combat wore off. Armored bone plates would grow in place instead of scars.

Yes. She would save this pup by making it her Hound. Her first Shadow.

Silver raised her right hand up to her mouth and bit down on her wrist. She ignored the pain, and only released when she felt her blood trickle through her teeth.

Silver quickly found the wound inflicted by the Spirits on the pup and rubbed her blood dripping wrist into it.

The pup yelped in shock, then growled and whined as the pain of the transformation began to spread. Silver laid the pup on the ground as to not interfere with the change, but did not move away.

It was so strange. Silver could feel her blood moving through the pup's body, taking over every cell it came upon. She could feel the confusion and fear the small animal possessed. It was frightened.

“It's alright, little pup.” Silver cooed through her blood. “Everything will be fine. The pain is only temporary.”

What she said was true, but it never felt that way. Despite happening so long ago, Silver could remember in vivid detail the gruesome agony she endured when she was mad anew. It was like having a million Centipedes crawling under her skin. Worse, even though it took only a few minutes it felt like an eternity.

But it was a necessary torture. Without it, Silver would not be what she was now.

She'd just be a… ugh… Spirit.

The blood had reached its mind and soul now. Silver could feel it planting anchors within the pup's being, latching onto them with hooks that held strong and sunk deep.

It was secured.

Silver winced. Now came the really painful part.

The pup's convulsing increased vigorously as its body was twisted and changed.

The once-gray fur slowly darkened until it was pitch black. Two sets of small spines jutted from its shoulders, stubby and short. The fur around the nape of its neck grew thicker, like the mane of a western lion, only smaller. The bullet in its body was pushed out, and the once life-threatening wound was sealed by rapidly growing ashen gray skin, which quickly sprouted black fur to conceal the scar. Finally, a skull plate began to form over its head. It now looked just like a tiny four-legged Hound.

Then the red markings sprung to life, seeping out from the eyeholes. They swiveled and danced across the skull plate until they settled on the pup's forehead. There, they took the shape of a rose, just like the one Silver's own mask bore.

With the mark on the plate decided the transformation was complete. The pup's painful spasms ceased and it simply lay there, panting heavily, and clearly exhausted, but alive.

It had worked.

For a long time, Silver just sat there with the pup. Allowing the small Hound to recuperate from its transformation from beast to Shadow’s. She stroked its tiny body gently as it rested, enjoying the soft texture of its baby fur.

Then with wobbly legs, it stood up. The pup swayed groggily on its paws but refused to fall back to the ground. Carefully, it turned itself to face Silver.

The pup looked up at her with glowing red eyes and cocked its head. Then it barked happily and stumbled towards her.

The Shadow pup clumsily climbed into Silver's lap and placed its front paws on her stomach, yipping up at her.

Silver couldn't help but giggle at the cute pup's desire for attention. She picked it up in her large claws, careful not to nick it, and brought it to her face. The pup immediately began licking her face and mask with its little tongue, tickling her.

The affectionate assault proved too much for the heir, and she fell backward onto one of the wolf corpses. She let go of the pup and rose off the body quickly, not wanting to disrespect the dead creature.

The pup looked at the corpse in confusion. It walked up and nudged it with its muzzle, curious. It looked up at Silver with a questioning whine and a cocked head.

She knelt down to scratch the pup on the head. “These are wolves, little pup. They are what you once were.”

It looked back at the corpse again, still confused. Then it started to sniff the air. A hungry glint entered its eyes and it bounded towards one of the six Spirit corpses and began ripping out small chunks of meat.

Silver smiled proudly at this. Her pup now had the taste of Spirit flesh. But this was not the time for feasting. She looked over the six bodies for a moment before an idea presented itself in her head.

One that might get rid of that fortress nest.

“Come along, little pup.” Silver ordered the Shadow as she took hold of one of the bodies. “We have work to do…”