EPILOGUE
In this story, humans are a cattle race, fleeing or hiding underground for safety and shelter from death and destruction. Humans are also pawns in a war between the Royal Elite Loup Garoux and the proud but meager Lycanthropes. This war has raged on for three long and bloodied decades. It only appears to be getting started.
There is no sure victor in sight. At the moment, the Loup Garoux is constantly a step ahead of the Lycans. Both packs land on Canis Island and acts as a neutral zone for everyone. It is called Canis Island. The two leaders of these wolf dynasties will be meeting on this island to discuss a possible peace treaty.
Both sides are losing too many men, and the war is leaving the lands uninhabitable for all species.
Is peace on the horizon? Or does someone else have other plans?
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Sylvie cradled the dry firewood to her chest and said a silent prayer that the downpour of rain would hold off just a little bit longer until she made it back to town. Her prayer went unanswered as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead. A fat, cold raindrop landed directly on her nose. Sylvie was 18 years old, but due to her severe malnourishment. She looked much younger. She and her mother had moved to Canis Island three years ago, after their home on the mainland was destroyed by the war.
Since the war began, over 95% of humans fled or went deep underground. Her mother had heard about this island. It was a place where humans and wolves lived peacefully among each other. She had made it sound like all of their problems would magically disappear, but on Canis Island, their problems only seemed to worsen. They did not get better.
They got worse.
With her father gone, she and her mother were left vulnerable. It didn't take long for things to go dark. Her mother was left with no choice and started working at the only brothel on the island as a washer woman. Because she worked at such a sinful place, She and her mother was shunned by the wealthy, elite citizens.
Sylvie's mother was assaulted by their Landlord and kicked out, leaving her mother no choice but to become a Courtesan and Sylive a streetrat. There were many nights Sylvie slept outside.
Earlier today, she had ventured into the forest. In hopes of finding firewood. Sylvie had no money to buy any, and even if she had money, who would sell it to her, considering her mother's profession? The rain came down faster.
She picked up the pace and began lightly jogging through the woods. The fallen leaves crunched underneath her worn, black suede boots. She couldn't see very well now. The rain was falling so fast. She hated the Fall season on Canis Isle.
It was always unpredictable as well as dreary. Sylvie didn't look back. She had ran over a mile now. Running cleared her mind and helped her stay grounded. Her life was not easy.
A daughter of a prostitute, and a strange daughter she was. The quiet slip of a girl who tried to stay alive on an island that preached neutrality, but there was still violence, human trafficking, and drugs. The south end of the island was where the Loup Garoux dwelled. They had constructed immaculate cave systems that looked similar to the Baguio Kingdom. The Lycanthropes dwelled in the North mountains. Similar to the Vikings of old.
Sylvie lurked in the center of the island. It was called ' Coeur de Loup" ( translated as Wolf's heart). All bartering, trading, gambling, and public meetings between clans took place in this area. Sylvie had learned quick that there was very little difference between the two packs, on the inside, anyway. While the Loup Garoux were otherworldly handsome, with lean, muscular builds. They were always expensively dressed, and wealthy in a time of war.
The Lycanthropes, on the other hand, were strategically smart, with a much thicker, muscular build. They dressed in leather pants and worn leather vests with their chests bared. They stirred up trouble wherever they went. That's why Sylvie tried to stay out of the way. Some nights she would stay in the town's stables and cuddle up to horseflesh.
She wasn't allowed to be in the brothel. Her mother had forbidden it. She rarely got any alone time with her mother anymore since she had taken up with the Lycanthrope, who was not a very amicable Wolf or customer, for that matter.
She was standing at the very end of the forest. She saw the lights from the windows of the small buildings that lined the town.
It was dusk. The downpour of rain had finally let up. Sylvie was soaking wet. She made her way to the back entrance of the brothel.
Sylvie knocked twice, like she had been told to do so many times before. She started shivering. Little clouds formed whenever she exhaled the sweet night air.
Sylvie made her way to the back entrance of the brothel. She knocked twice as she had been instructed to do so many times before. She started shivering, then she saw little clouds forming whenever she exhaled. The temperature had dropped substantially along with the sun. Minutes later, the door opened.
Sylvie came face to face with Madame Alexa Bouvier.
Madame Bouvier was 5'4, with a petite waist and large cartoonish-looking breasts. She wore a long skirt with slits up both sides.
She was considered very attractive. At the moment, she did not look like she was happy to see Sylvie. In fact, she seemed to hate Sylvie. She always felt self-conscious about that.
"Well!" She said,
"I collected wood for Cook." She looked down at the stone step as she spoke the words.
Madame Bouvier looked behind her and directly at cook. Cook Montrese was kneading dough for bread and not paying attention to his surroundings and what was playing out.
"Well, it's wet now, isn't it? Why would he need it now?"
She stared at her. She didn't know what to say to that.
Cook looked up. "Oh, Sylvie! Come! Bouvier, out of the way!"
"No, I just told her you can't use the wood for the stove. She has to leave."
"No. The girl stays. Besides, her mother will want to see her."
"That ain't none of my business."
"What is then?" He asked, as he rolled his eyes at her absurdity.
"Every mouth that needs to be fed in this house eventually will pay their own way." She said, her gaze piercing through Sylvie.
"Bah! Go away." Yelled Cook.
She rolled her eyes at the cook and did as he said. She stormed out of the kitchen in a huff.
"Don't just stand there looking like a wet cat, please, come in."
Sylvie crossed the threshold of the kitchen and closed the door behind her. It felt warm. Her nose smelled delicious things that made her stomach growl In retaliation.
"Come! Come! Give me the wood." He demanded as he wiped the flour and the dough from his hands and onto his white apron.
She handed the small pile to him. He took the small pile of firewood. With his free hand he opened the top of the black cast iron potbelly stove. The fire crackled and dried the wood as it burned. Cook wiped his hands off once more, then picked up a small saucer with bread and meat.
He slid it to her.
She waited until he spoke.
"Sylvie, please. You must eat. I have not seen you in a few days. The stableboy says you disappear often. Where is it that you go?" He asked her.
Sylvie learned early on to keep her mouth shut. She took the saucer of food and sat down on the floor beside the island in the kitchen. Sylvie hadn't had a bath in moths. She put the meat on top of the bread and then devoured it in four bites. Sylvie stood up then, feeling better now that her stomach had food inside of it.
She knew it wouldn't be enough. She was always hungry, always wanting more. Madame Bouvier called her a leech.
"Go see your mother. They are all getting ready for tonight's selection of private viewing." Cook told her.
Sylvie knew what that meant.
She wouldn't get to visit with her mother tonight, or maybe even for a few days or weeks. She used the servants' staircase as she had been instructed to by the Madame of the house. Her mother stayed on the third floor, where Madame Bouvier kept her top earners. Her mother was classically beautiful with long, wavy, blonde hair and stormy grey eyes.
Sylvie was the complete opposite, with short brown hair and Carmel-colored eyes. Most people mistook her for a young page boy because of her short hair and boyishly thin frame. She didn't mind. It kept the attention off of her. She stood in front of her mother's room.
She did their special knock, so her mother knew who it was. Within seconds, the door was opened by Her beautiful mother.
"Ma, Cher!" She pulled her inside the room and hugged her tightly. She had missed her daughter, and her daughter had missed her.
"Hello, mama," she greeted her...