A brief extract from book one of The Legend of Makenzie Blackhart (none as the Blackhart series for short). It is part of chapter 5. A play is being performed depicting the story of the birth of the Dire Wolf Guardian.
The tale starts with a Demon cursing a man to become a wolf the size of a Dragon. This wolf went on a rampage, killing everything that crossed his path. With so much dark magic coursing through his veins, the wolf healed quickly from every wound the brave inflicted.
Eventually, a group of eight Dragons and their riders took arms against the beast. The battle was fierce and by the time the wolf fell, all the Dragons were dealt fatal blows and soon followed it into the Fade. Their Guardians, frozen by grief, stayed by their fallen partners for a whole week.
In a rough circle around the wolfs body, they remained for eight days and nights, not even noticing the golden fox who watched them, until she stepped into their midst. Shining like a sunbeam, her eight tails twitched and curled, drinking in the light of the coming dawn.
In a bright flash, the fox transformed into a beautiful woman. Her red hair brushed against the ground and was the only thing that obscured her nakedness. She looked around them with pity before stating that she would grant them a wish, if they could all agree on something they wanted.
Without consultation, the distraught Guardians spoke in unison. They wanted their Dragons back. The woman replied that she could not raise the dead and to make a different request.
The Guardians gathered and after some debate, the eldest amongst them told the woman that they simply wished for their suffering to end.
The woman smiled before walking to the corpse of the man once called Fenrir. Even in death, his curse remained. She reached deep within the wolfs gaping chest and pulled out his heart.
Once in her hand, the still organ glowed and Fenrirs body melted into the ground. In its place spouted a grove of moon lilies.
When she ate the heart, the bodies of the fallen Dragons likewise melted away. In each spot, pulled from the earth by invisible hands, emerged eight new born wolf pups. As their pitiful cries filled the air, the Guardians returned to the places their Dragons had lain. As each pup was lifted from the ground, the Guardians cried tears of joy where there had only been sorrow.
As if called by the pups cries, two she-wolves emerged from the lilies and the woman gave the gathered Guardians these instructions; "These wolves will nurse four pups a piece. Upon their weaning, beneath a full moon, the lilies will come into bloom.
Give a drop of their nector to each wolf for every full moon of their first year. Do this and they will grow large enough to carry you as your Dragons did.
When you are Joined, work to repair the damage their Sire has wrought. When this is done, go out and guard this land as you have done before, defending the innocent".
The Guardians did as they were bid and the wolves grew as she had promised, though not as large as the Dragons they had come to replace. These wolves were named Dire Wolves and they, along with their Guardians, became the founders of the Dire Wolf Tribes.



















