“You’re not wrong.” Vukosava chuckles. “It’s such a mess.”
“Welcome to reality, where everything that can go wrong will go wrong. I’m heading off to talk with Nathen; we’ll try and come up with something. You focus on getting yourself sorted, Vics.”
“Stay safe.” Vukosava hangs up.
Amber is still asleep. It’ll be a little while before she’s up and there’s still plenty to do.
-
“I have returned, Great Queen, the threat has been dealt with.”
“Yet I find that you stand here alone, Sir Victor, where is Charles?”
“He found a suitable host to perform the sign of union with.”
The Red Queen sits upon a scarlet throne with weaponry adorning the stairs that lead up to her seat. Through the windows that span on endlessly on either side, the sun and moon’s rays shine through, a dazzling kaleidoscope that goes through the ages of humanity and its endless hunger for power. The Crimson Court stands in the middle of both extremes, a twilight that reflects selfishness and selflessness. The moon exists above a world caught in a fierce winter, a world of ice and stillness. With the sun standing above a world of fire and movement.
“I see. His heart was a good one. But even so, such an act is betrayal.”
“Indeed, it is.” Sir Victor Alberius stops mid-sentence.
“Would you not seek to defend him, Sir Victor?”
“He made his choice. I can fault him for it – but I don’t hate him for it. Will you punish him?”
The Red Queen rises from her throne, hovering above the knight of corruption. “Justice is the only thing that is real to me. I was once a mortal woman – but then one man changed it all. If Charles Derhert stands in the way of my justice, my righteous vengeance, then he will be dealt with. I will not have my personal ambition waver because of one good soul.”
Sir Victor Alberius waits for her to continue.
“You have sensed their vileness, their disease. There is only one path – mine.” The Red Queen looks upon the realm. “There are so many that have suffered because of a system that pces mercy on the vilin – not the victim. The w and order they speak of is a falcy. A lie. I will tear it out. All the prisons, all these great castles of reformation will be emptied.”
“As you say, Great Queen.”
“I expect your absolute loyalty, Sir Victor. Do not turn an ear to them.”
It is time to bring this pitiful justice to its knees. The guilty will be given over to a great fire.
-
Vukosava is sitting up with Amber watching the television.
“It’s crazy. All of it.”
“I know, Amber, but there’s nothing else for it.”
Vukosava could only stare at the screen, her emotional and mental capacity wearing thin. The news stations are doing their best to make sense of the chaos, and the freak weather event. A lot of bme is being cast around, meteorologists and other professionals in the field of understanding weather and climate are still searching for a logical expnation. There’s one surprise guest on the television that captures their attention instantly. Thomas Maxwell.
“It’s a pleasure to have you, Senator Maxwell.”
“Thank you for having me, I know this has been a very troubling experience for everyone.”
“What are your thoughts on this catastrophic event?”
“It’s shocking, no warnings, no signs. It was horrible, my deepest sympathies are with the families affected by this event. The local council and I are insistent on helping everyone recover.”
“There’s something to be said for all the heroics that took pce.”
“Yes, there certainly is. I know how this will sound, Ross, but it’s fortunate that the total number of people that have passed on is only 3,000. My local region was savaged by this monstrosity – and I’m one of the fortunate ones that managed to stay out of its path.”
Amber closes her eyes, pressing her hands together, whispering a prayer for the lost. Despite all the rest she’s gotten, there are dark circles around her eyes, her skin is pale and her limbs on the shaky side. It’s not right to drill Amber with questions. Vukosava turns off the television. “Take a nap, Amber, you need it.”
“No, no, I’m good.” Amber tries to fight her off. But she can’t.
“Doctor’s orders. Rest.” Vukosava doesn’t leave any space for a retort. She pushes Amber down gently, putting the bnket over her.
The doorbell goes off.
“Why is your house so far away?” It’s John and his blond hair is struggling to stay up despite his gel. His bike is lying on its side in her front yard.
“You didn’t get a car to crash this time?”
“Oh, very funny.” John saunters up. “I see you got something back from st night. The ability to piss me right off.”
“I’m special like that. You want something?”
“An ice-cold beer, maybe?” John sits down on the top stairs overlooking the driveway. “That sounds nice.”
“I don’t have that in supply. I do have the garden hose.”
John snorts. “I don’t need watering. Anyways, how’s Amber?”
“Better. As much as she can be.” Vukosava sits down next to him. “What about Nathen and James?”
“The boys are tough as nails. They’re ready to go.”
Vukosava can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. With a firm shake of her head, she looks into John’s eyes. “So, are you here to listen to my piece of the puzzle?”
“I trust your intelligence and supernatural knowhow.” John puts a hand on her shoulder. “You’re a genius.”
“I don’t know about that. We’re both on the same wavelength, I’m guessing.”
“Yeah, we speak to the super dangerous chick and hope she doesn’t turn us into barbeque.”
“She’d have no reason to do that to us. After all, we helped her out.”
“If she goes into a blind rage, or decides that she’s handing out justice, I doubt that matters.” John leans back against the railing. “If she’s going to deliver on her promises, she’ll go to the biggest shithole on the map. The most bang for your buck.”
“I see that you can actually do some good research.” Vukosava stretches out her legs. “So, yeah, that’s the situation. If we don’t do something quick, there’s going to be another tragedy.”
“A local prison is wiped off the map.” John impersonates a news reporter, getting a chuckle out of Vukosava. “If talking is all we can do, we need Amber and Charles on board.”
“Still recovering, I don’t want to push her too hard.”
“I figured. I’m nervous, you know? That everything could go wrong.”
“What do you mean? That’s never going to happen.” Vukosava waves it off. “We’re hopeless, but not that hopeless.”
“Have we got a backup pn, something in the reserves that we can count on?”
“Amber’s power is a no go – she’s ended up like this because of it. The rest of us are completely normal except for Harley and Nathan." Vukosava’s brow furrows deeply in thought.
“Since your face is scrunching up like that – you better spill.” John sweeps his hair back from his damp forehead.
“It’s something that Sir Victor Alberius said - I’ve taken my first step.”
“That suit of armour could be saying all that to throw you off. To get under your skin.”
“I don’t think so. He’s not a schemer, he told us that the Red Queen would be on her way, he’s given us a warning.” Vukosava makes her way down to John’s bike. “Are you pnning to ride back on this thing?”
“I like a challenge, or at least my dad likes giving me one.” John picks up his bike, leaning it against one of the low-hanging trees. “You want to test your theory? That there’s something up with you – you’ve contracted an illness.”
“If it were that simple, I wouldn’t be worried. I’ve done research about silver and other items used to ward off impurities. The Cross is a sign of God, and priests use it in exorcisms.” Vukosava crosses her arms. “I used to have a horseshoe neckce; I can’t bear to put it on.”
“Great, another problem.” John grumbles. “Have you narrowed it down?”
“I didn’t have the time to focus on it. Not that I wanted to either.” Vukosava looks back to where Amber’s sleeping. “You guys take priority – I can worry about myself ter.”
“That’s not being responsible, Vics. What if you get compromised?”
“How would that be?” Vukosava couldn’t entirely dismiss this point.
“What if someone decides they’ll puppeteer you or something? What then?”
“There’s two possible outcomes, John, either I’ve gotten some kind of supernatural strain of a vampire or a werewolf. Perhaps repeated exposure to the paranormal has created a different form of attachment.” Vukosava takes a deep breath to calm herself down. “Once the process is complete - or more accurately the transformation. The infected can change at will. In some stories, particurly that of Greece, there is no controlling it. It’s a punishment or curse for a great wrongdoing, King Lycaon killed one of his own sons and presented him as an offering to Zeus.”
“King Harald was a special case.” John concludes quickly.
“Yes. He was. His father, Bratisv gathered knowledge from his distant retives – cousins, uncles, aunts, very much removed. He sought a ritual that would keep the man alive beneath the hide of a wolf. He sought a guardian of the forest, a leader of the natural world. You see, Bratisv’s extended family went all the way back to 6-9 AD, when Emperor Augustus conquered all of Pannonia. That region where his family id down their roots would become part of the Roman Empire, gaining the name Provincia Pannoniae.”
“Provincia Pannoniae, what now?” John stares at Vukosava like she’s an extraterrestrial lifeform.
Vukosava can’t help but roll her eyes. “Fine, think of it this way, Pannonia corresponds to modern-day eastern Croatia, northern Serbia and southwestern Hungary. Does that help?”
“You’re finally speaking English, so yes.” John exaggerates back. “I still don’t see it.”
“Bratisv’s family is both Serbian and Illyrian, according to the Historical Archive of European Nations. Over time, the Illyrian’s culture was assimited into Svic culture. That northern region in Serbia is where the family started to grow. Where their ambitions grew. The ritual to give Harald his formidable strength and prowess in battle is distinctly Svic in origin. In Svic culture, wolves hold a very important position in our folklore.” She allows herself to smile. “Even my dad acknowledges it – despite his opinions on that sort of thing. A wolf is a totemic animal, killing one disrupts the natural order, and it ensures that there will be negative consequences for the killer.”
“So, this Bratisv guy did all of this to give his baby a boost?”
“Yes, he wanted a powerful heir and is there a better way of doing that than using the power of an ancestral guardian?” Vukosava is going through her points with a factual air, but fear is starting to dig into her courage. To the point that John is putting his arm around her. “After one becomes a werewolf, this curse –.”
“You don’t have to keep going, Vics. It’s okay, we’ll figure this shit out, okay?”
“What are you going to do, John? This problem, this thing extends back. The curse is hereditary. It’s passed down.” The ground is rushing up at Vukosava as her heart starts to race and her skin goes cold. The adrenaline pumping through her veins is sickly and forceful. What could this mean? Her name, the silver horseshoe neckce stinging her. It’s all connecting together.
“We’re here for you, Vics. I’ll tell the others our pn – you are taking a break.”
“How on earth am I going to do that?”
“No more researching, no more stress. You’re going to be as still as a statue, just like Amber.”
“I’ll give it a shot.” Vukosava spins around to face John, his arm still over her shoulder. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”
John squeezes her shoulder gently. “I’m not that stupid. Now, quit using that brain of yours.”
He sighs heavily as he picks up his bike. “Anyways, I’ll be returning home to experience more torture, aka, responsibilities as my mum puts it.”
Folklore Files:
Self-Examination by Vukosava
The main areas of focus in this self-examination are possible links to werewolves either through contracting a curse or attachment.
This could possibly be linked to repeated exposure to unclean and impure spirits throughout the career of a paranormal investigator. It is well-documented that entities can find a suitable host / battery to harvest energy and increase their influence.
In the family line, the curse of lycanthropy is passed down. Either a family partook in a ritual to become a werewolf or an incident resulted in the disease being contracted. Regardless of how it was acquired, disrupting a transformation is achieved through using silver, and a horseshoe is a talisman that helps to bolster its effects.
Protective Wards and Safeguards:
1 - Silver & Horseshoe,
Silver is associated with the moon and purity, aligning with the werewolf’s lunar transformation and their inherent corruption. A werewolf’s transformation is a disruption to natural order, silver acts against this disruption, causing extreme pain and even death if it’s pure / dense enough. Items made from silver are perceived to not only be pure, but have a connection to a divine force that is deadly to the werewolf’s unholy nature. Bullets, swords, spears, spikes, any weapon made out of this material can deal damage to impure creatures and entities.
The horseshoe in Svic tradition is a talisman both for people and house animals. To protect the home from evil spirits. This extends to diseases as well, that they will be “captured” by the horseshoe and not able to enter the house.
These two components are brought together with the horseshoe neckce, being both silver and a symbol of warding off evil. It can disrupt a werewolf’s transformation but also keep one at bay, and maybe it was done in an effort to capture the disease of lycanthropy and permanently seal it away. Now, with all the repeated exposure to the otherworldly, and the removal of the neckce for a few moments, fighting the Eternal Prince awakened it – giving it enough space.
2 - Name,
As a precaution and additional talisman against possible lycanthropy, the Stevanovic family gave their daughter the name ‘Vukosava’, there are two moving parts to this. Vuk, which means ‘wolf’ and Sva which means ‘glory’. It’s seen as another yer of protection. The name Vukosava also transtes to ‘wolf’s feast’ or ‘wolf’s celebration’. In conclusion, Vukosava as a name embodies the symbolism of both a powerful animal and a noble quality.
