What remained of Cadmus’ home burned in the roaring fire behind him. He had managed to drag himself and the impaled body a good two-hundred feet away from the inferno. He grunted, fell against the tree next to him, and let go of the hand of the dead body he had dragged from the blazing inferno. His entire body ached, his face and waist searing with pain. He removed the now blood-stained cloak his beloved uncle had gifted to him not two days ago and painfully took off his shirt. He hesitantly looked at his waist to see a gash that was oozing blood on his blue fur. Cadmus began to sweat and his heart tried to break through his chest. His eyes filled with tears but he hastily blinked them back and grasped the wound. He looked up at the sky and forced his eyes closed, trying to remember his teachings. He remembered his uncle’s face. His scales as red as rubies, interrupted only by the claw-scars across his face, and his smile that shined brighter than the sun.
“Remember Cadmus, in a bad situation, the worst thing to do is panic” he had said as he hastily shoved survival gear into Cadmus’ bag. “Fear is your worst enemy.” Cadmus slowly opened his eyes and looked at his tattered, black shirt. He grunted heavily and, using his unoccupied hand, grabbed it. He brought the collar up to his teeth, bit it, and tore it into several strips. Cadmus let go of his wound and the cool, night air made the pain flare up again. He winced agonizingly and started to tie the strips around his waist. His uncle’s gruff voice spoke again in his head. “If you let your fear rule you then there is no hope. You have to use your head and control the situation.” Cadmus finished tying the strips around his waist and began to feel the panic subsiding. He once again leaned his head upon the tree and let out a great sigh. His eyes felt droopy despite the pain and his vision became blurry. Cadmus violently shook his head remembering the dire situation. If he fell asleep now, another may come. The fire wasn’t exactly subtle.
His eyes opened quickly and he began to sweat again. They’d know. Soon. Very soon. He looked at the figure lying on the ground in a pool of blood beside him with anguish. They were going to send more. Why had he not thought of that? Cadmus knew he needed to think fast. Cadmus dug his dirty claws into the tree and tried to pull himself up, but the wound ignited in his side, nearly forcing him to scream. He looked over at the figure that had been stabbed with his’ sword. The Sword. Cadmus fell on his side and scooted a little closer to the body to grab the handle of his sword. He slid the sword out of the body and held it above him, trying to see the condition. There were many chips from the brief skirmish, but other than that it was alright. He rested sword flat against his chest and closed his eyes, trying to gain some sense of security. He had a weapon. Now what? Would he get far if he crawled off into the dark forest? No. they would track him. He couldn’t climb a tree in his current state and hiding would only buy him time. Dang hunters. His uncle’s voice rung in the back of his head.
“You have to control your fear. Not only that, but you have to rule your opponent’s fear. If you can use that against them, then there’s no hope for them.” Cadmus looked at the motionless figure beside him. An idea arose in his head. He dug his sword into the ground and propped himself into a sitting position. He gazed upon the masked face before him and reached for it. He grasped the bloodied, white mask and removed it to reveal the face of a Protean male. One of his kind. The realization took Cadmus aback at first but he then realized that this was what his uncle had been teaching him his entire life. The man’s fair, furry face was black, with three grey circles running down either side of his cheeks. Two wolf-like ears protruded from the top of his head and long grey fur whipped around them. His glowing, blue eyes seemed to stare into Cadmus’ soul. He quickly looked away. The man didn’t look like the uncle-killing monster that he was. It made Cadmus angry. He repeated his uncle’s words in his head.
“-There’s no hope for them.” Cadmus reflected on these words and upon his own feelings for a moment, but then snapped back to reality. There wasn’t any way for Cadmus to get out of there. There were only two outcomes that seemed terrifyingly realistic. Either the hunters came and murdered him, throwing away all of the years his uncle had invested in him, or Cadmus fought them in his bloodied, wounded state and made sure they don’t come back. He stared down at the white mask and hesitantly put it on.
“There’s no hope for them...”
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