Sweat has been crawling on me, dripping over metal chains… Chains that tie me up to a cut tree trunk. It’s tight, so tight that it hurts, and blood can’t get around in me well. My stomach turns upside down, as it chokes every breath I take.

There are almost no light sources here. Air is damp and it drowns my lungs, as multiplying noises from my gasping haunt every corner of this mysterious lair.

No… how could this be? What even is all of this?

I’m confused, I can’t understand what happened for me to be here. I can’t concentrate either, the pain is too much to handle.

I force my eyes shut, then begin scouring through my blurry memories; what was it… before the agony of this torture…?

Nothing.

I can’t even remember how much time I’ve been here. Everything is pitch black. The area stinks of mold and old, still water.

“Dad…”, I whisper, but silence is the only one to greet me, with despair tapping at my shoulder. “Dad!”

Tears flood down, flushing away on my crushed body. Everything is too much to handle, and even if I face forward, even if I try to persist… only darkness can be seen, and the shadows reply back with the reflection of my deepest fears. In nothing, there is no place for reality, as the emptiness distorts even the most rational of thoughts. This feeling… It crawls between your nerves.

…

My mind suddenly clenches onto the most excruciating thoughts possible: what if they think I’m dead? Cragger, Dad, Uncle, Eris… What if they think I’m gone?

The pathetic disappearance of the Lion Prince– a life Dad fought so much to flourish is now captive. I wonder how he will die… if it is even death at all. The anxiety of not knowing one’s destiny is enough.

Only one can wonder…

...I want this to end. Please.

My lungs ache, I’m unable to fill them, as my throat can only cough– it contracts violently; a cannonball of warm liquid surges there and drops all over my chest.

I yearn for warmth… but…

This smells like blood.

“Ugh— stop yapping…”, a lanky creature abruptly rises from the depths, holding a burning stick, “I won’t hesitate to end your pity show.”

A voice, something I hoped would lead to my salvation, instead brings my attention to this grotesque figure, of olive green scales, tall enough to hit their head onto the caves’ ceiling. That dancing light reveals everything: the height of this basement, the pool of my own blood, the hanging fish skeleton from that crocodile’s loincloth. On top of their sully look, there’s… a creepy, sadistic smirk that spreads all across their mouth. While the flames of their torch ignite a shine on my splattered blood, the fire gets closer to me, small steps at a time. I try to not inhale any longer, but can’t hold for much longer, and the ashes go through my nostrils, forced to breathe in fumes inside this musty cave.

“And… you’re covered in blood. You already did half of my work for me.”

Those amber eyes… A familiar face!

I shout, drooling, “Are you the one who pulled the trigger at the Speedor Race?”

The reptile recoils, offended by my words. He slaps me— in the blink of an eye. It hurts a lot, blending in with the aching of my body.

A sharp nail pushes onto the cartilages of my neck, slowly crawling up to the chin.

“If you don’t hand me that survey of yours, I’ll kill you.”

Blood shoots from a cough to his face. In reaction, he pulls the nail, cutting my chin. Tears fall off my eyes.

All of this for a survey?… What sur—

Oh.

“But… what do you have to do with it?”, I whisper.

He shoves his empty hand on my neck. “Think you can take information from me, naive cub? …Either hand me the survey or burn it!”

The crocodile analyzes me from top to bottom, as his previously angry expression melts into that creepy smile. He throws the torch away– it sizzles from contact with muddy water– then goes behind the tree trunk and unties me. My body falls onto the ground from exhaustion, everything going to black.

Thorny giggles echo inside the cave.

A husky voice interrupts the laughing, “This is taking too long, Crawley. If you keep making noises, the king might come here.”

“Didn’t you block the entrance with your personal guards, Cruz? Shouldn’t they be enough?”

“His Majesty’s wishes are above mine”, the voice sighs, “Put this kid somewhere else, before anyone notices. I’ll clean up this mess.”

Personal guards?… Wait– if a guard was willing to follow this kind of order, then… Is someone from the Crocodile Tribe actively involved in this, or worse, someone who has enough power like that? This is war!

My body is already dropped on the floor, but I try to loosen myself enough to look unconscious; pain might be sufficient to do this trick. … Then, I wait…

Breathing flows on top of my head and ears, followed by sharp fingers poking me. I’m flipped over to the side, as the filthy water underneath begins to moisten my fur. Ew.

“Ehh. I think the cub is unconscious”, Crawley grunts in a high pitch, “I’ll get rid of him, while you do the rest.”

Air feels dry and my throat is stiff, aching slightly as it moves. Sore eyelids begin to open up after the sunlight hits through the retina, but it’s too bright, making my tear ducts water up. I can’t even see properly anyways…

Coughing slips out of my mouth, forcing my lungs to squeeze, and projects my neck forward. I squirm in pain.

Just before I can react, everything starts to look normal again.

Ehboni sits down besides me while holding a cup of tea. The vapor that steams from the warm liquid dances around in a trance, as it dampens my breath. She then leans forward, at my left.

“Please, drink this tea I made. It’ll ease your pain.”

A strong odor startles me. It definitely comes from that beverage.

“But— Ehboni… is it acerbison?”, I stutter by moving my frail vocal chords.

With hesitation, she pats me on the forehead, and lends the cup very close to my face. I drink the liquid from it, its bitter taste shocks my tongue, I snarl hard in reaction, but this is numb compared to the pain piercing me. It’s for my own good, anyways.

My throat trembles while I feel the liquid itch down to my stomach with its bitter taste. It’s horrible. I don’t even want to look down and stare at my bruised body. Dad doesn’t want to see it either. Though, there he is, his eyes unable to understand the wounds on my neck, the redness scattered throughout my skin… Or the damp fur, too.

“My son…“, he kneels before the bed, “How could—”

His voice froze while speaking. He’s terrified– I can see his paws twitching.

Dad cries, “I failed you.”

No…

The wounds on my neck writhed and my breath whistled under moist lungs as I heard those words. I clench my eyes shut. However, I can feel Ehboni caressing my forehead, brushing her fingers between the hairs of my growing, wet mane. I am able to listen Dad’s sobs, and to the nurse’s calming whisper:

“It’s not your fault.”

“How is it not my fault? Look at my son! Look at the state he’s in!”, he bursts into tears.

Lagravis’ sorrow becomes louder than before, enough to hurt my ears. He’s… roaring, his voice brimming with anger.

“Someone is trying to murder my child, my prince!”. Then, his voice lowers into whimpers near me, “Who did this to you?… Another wolf?”

I open my eyes. My heart skips a beat. Two battles should not be happening at the same time… And yet…

I haven’t told my dad about the survey– it’s about the wolves, but I accidentally got Furtivo involved… followed by crocodiles? Yes, the one who disrupted the big race of weeks ago. He was with guards too, who were commanded by someone also directly—

Dad interrupts my thoughts, “Son?”.

“It’s a long story… Dad, please bear with me”.

Each word I stutter under my moist breath seems to terrify him further. The naked truth is disheartening, and not even the bravest of kings can handle it.

“The crocodiles are also involved in this too?”

I sigh, “I think so, yeah.”

He touches my hair, rolling it with his fingers.

“How terrifying… An unexpected turn of events. Your damp fur already attests this.”, he pets me while crying, “I will find those who harmed you.”

We feel the stones and gravel crunching beneath the royal tank’s caterpillar tread. My eyes are barely open, but I can notice the faint moonlight hitting them, while thousands of blurry stars shine in between the sight of my eyelashes. I also feel the vehicle rocking sideways from time to time— it’s a soothing motion, combined with the warmth of my father’s arms wrapping around me. I am barely awake— the pain was too much for me to handle—, though I know my presence is needed for now.

Meanwhile, the trees that pass behind our view begin to appear more and more scarce, as I start to regain vision. They look paler by comparison. The air becomes sharper to the nostrils, too.

A serious voice rises from nearby, “My king, we are getting closer to our destination”. It stops silent for a few seconds, but speaks once again, in a whisper, “I wish you the best in this. For Chima.”

“For Chima, Longtooth. For Chima.”

Lagravis turns his head to the side. “Wakz. Do not fail us. Tell them everything you know.”

Are we returning back to The Fangs?… I hope not. Besides, it doesn’t seem like it either way— we’re surrounded by life, even if they look like the tiniest of shrubs. Our surroundings are vast, with a mixture of pale green and brown, dry but still livable.

Surely enough, we’re face to face against the tall Eagle Spire— far away, though. It’s huge, shaped like an eagle. Houses branch off that mount, sometimes built on top of its cliffs. The yellow tip piercing the sky is supposed to be a sculpted beak, shaped to meticulously that I can notice this from the distance.

Then, a cold, yellow hand holds my wrist, catching me off guard. Ehboni has been by my side the entire time… She lets go of me, picks up a piece of paper and, without uttering a word, takes notes on it. Lagravis receives it before sighing in relief.

My eyelids start to fall down again…

I wake up being held by Dad inside a large library, similar to a big enclosure.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty and sir Wakz.”, a blue eagle smiles as he opens space on the bookshelf and returns the book between his claws.

Wakz bows in response, “Good afternoon, Ewald. We need your help.”

The sapphire eagle pauses himself, book midway inside the shelf– his wings curl and hide his body in a state of shock. He proceeds to finish what he’s doing, then turns around, establishing eye contact with the elder.

“P-pardon me, please continue…”

“Could you please lend me your wife’s studies of the Purple Moon?”

Ewald’s pupils shrink, he raises his eyebrows, afraid. Eris and I freeze; perhaps she knows what’s going on, or how serious is this matter, but I don’t– his distraught face was enough to make my heart race.

…Oh, wait, a purple moon? Sounds familiar, maybe I’ve—

“My son had a dream with a purple moon once, where he was attacked by a wolf.”, sighs Lagravis, “It seems that both wolves and this moon are intertwined when causing terror.”

Wakz explains, “Yes, that is the case, Your Majesty. We are currently going through the Hundred Year Moon.”

Makes sense, of course, because whenever it gets dark, chaos breaks loose. However… this feels too simple. Hundreds of wolves died. Blood was shed, lives were taken, animals are in danger– it has been three days already, three days too many.

“Such events have been occurring ever since my son was attacked. The patterns are very obvious here, but if we don’t prepare ourselves, he’ll become the first victim of this terror.”, Lagravis weeps.

Ewald moves his head, searching for something, but with his despair growing by the minute, it feels like he has nowhere to go. What could he be looking for in such a big library?

“Oh dear Phoenixes… please lend me your strength”, he mutters.

“Humph. What is it, mister Ewald—”

“We don’t have much about the Hundred Year Moon.”

Lagravis, while slowly moving his tail, glares at the eagle, arms crossed. His eyes pinpoint down on Ewald’s anxiety, ready to inspect whatever possible when necessary; however, what is there to inspect? What is there to be questioned, when the Eagle Tribe knows even of what they don’t?

“Elaborate.”

Ewald starts to point his nails, rubbing them on his sharp scales, grating them at a fast pace.

“We don’t have any studies about the Hundred Year Moon, Your Majesty. There are only a few sightings archived in our library, written in ancient language.”

“And can’t you translate them?”, Dad hisses.

“We’ve tried, but the records are in bad shape…”

An awkward silence slips into the investigation for a few solid seconds.

“Therefore… you have no idea on how to solve this. Your wife was a renowned astronomer, Ewald; maybe her research could give us any clues.”

The blue bird’s feathers close his body tight, and his elongated head shape becomes more obvious, unlike when it was behind a puffy cloud.

Eris tugs the waist of her father’s delicate tunic; she whimpers in soft chirps, blinking to wipe off the tears that shine from her golden eyes.

Ewald caresses his daughter’s forehead, while he whispers soothing words to her, but to no avail.

No one dares to interrupt this moment of grief, one that every father can sense from the bottom of their hearts: an aching loss of a loved one, the agony of no longer being able to see someone you cared for.

I’ve… never seen Eris like this before, trying to hide her sadness– or feeling sad at all. Sunshine doesn’t remain forever, as cloudy days are to come when you least expect it.

I leave my dad’s side and get closer to my friend, hug her and hold her tight with my arms.

She cries, “I’ll do it. I’m going to solve this, just like how mom would’ve.”