#thegoodwolftale

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4. The King's Word

At first the prince tried to communicate with Kyla. Informing someone that you are a human that was turned into a wolf is no simple task. He even tried writing in the snow and mud, however, his penmanship was not very good when he had hands let alone paws. The words looked more like a wheel tracks than a combination of letters. Signs from the king were posted in every village offering reward for information and he would tear them down and present one to a different member of the family. This usually ended in a scolding for misbehaving in town. Eventually he grew comfortable with his new life. He had good food, warm shelter, enjoyable company, and very little responsibility. What more could he ask for?

Every morning he pretended to eat the coarse food Gran prepared for him, then waited for Gramps to sneak him some good scraps. He would follow Kyla around and assist her with her chores (as much as an overly intelligent wolf could). Wherever she went he followed. This included when she went into town and sometimes she would take him to the woods and they would play games. At dusk they would return home and rest in the den as Gran finished the sewing, since she took over for Sophie as the town seamstress. Gramps was usually tinkering with a new project and Kyla would sit and read a spell book with one hand while petting raff with the other. She always read the books but never practiced her magic. Raff would rest his head on her lap and she would pet his head gently, always sure to get his favorite spot just behind his right ear. At the end of the day he would follow her up the stairs to the small bedchamber Gramps built, curl up at the base of the bed in a pile of old cloaks and blankets, and fall asleep. This was the routine for ten years until one fateful day in town. The day started like any other. The family ate breakfast then set to their work for the day. It was a particularly chilly day in early spring and Gran had fallen behind on some of the mending. “Kyla dear,” She called from the den to the kitchen where Kyla was sweeping. Kyla dutifully turned to her Grandmother. “Would you please take that basket to town and deliver the garments to Tromed Drutt. I am terribly behind on my work.” Kyla draped her dark blue cloak over her pale green dress, picked up the basket of garments and walked to the village. Raff followed as always. Everyone in town knew Raff by now and he knew every corner of the streets and shops. When they arrived Raff broke away from Kyla to play with the children and sneak some treats from the butcher. They did this often and when it was time to leave Kyla would call and Raff would immediately find her. Kyla stifled a shiver as she stepped into the gloomy shop of Tromed Drutt. The windows were so grimy only a few tinted rays of light streamed through. It smelled like damp grass and the crammed shelves were full of odd vials and boxes containing a strange variety of items. A clunky bell rattled as the door closed behind her. “Mister Drutt?” she called from the doorway. A thin old man emerged from the back room. His shoulders slumped forward making his already loose clothing droop a little more and he was bald except for the peach fuzz around the sides and back of his head. He skin adopted a gray tone and his eyes were a sharp green. “What can I do for you Miss Daling?” he weezed. When he spoke it sounded like every word ended in the letter “S” This was due to two of his front teeth missing. “I have come to drop off some of the mending.” “Ah yes” he whispered. He stared at her intensely from behind the counter. After a long minute of silence and staring she lifted the basket and forced a smile. “I will just put it right here on the counter.” She placed the basket on the oak countertop. “Yes that will be good,” He replied without looking away from her. He reached in the coin purse he kept on his belt, pulled out a few bronze coins and handed them to Kyla. “That should cover it, correct?” “Yes, this should do just fine”. She nodded politely and quickly walked out the door stifling another shiver as she went. When she left the man glanced at a book he kept hidden under the counter. The cover had elegant letters with the words “Mystical Spells and Entrapments”. He smirked and hummed as he returned to the back room of the shop. Outside was full of commotion as townspeople gathered around the local bulletin. Kyla joined the crowd and turned to the baker, who was standing in next to her. “What is all this fuss?” she inquired. “The King has issued a decree of some sort” He replied. Kyla squeezed her way forward until she could read the large sign which read “By order of his Majesty King Henry, in the absence of the heir, Prince John, a new successor to throne shall be named in one year’s time. The heir will be chosen from the one who completes the most of The Seven Challenges of Rule, which shall be spread across the land and judged by his majesties trusted council. The Challenges of Bravery, Cunning, Loyalty, Selflessness, Leadership, Kindness, and Humility may be attempted by any citizen of the land and the victor shall be named King.” Kyla read the sign several times to ensure she remembered as much as possible to relay to Gran and Gramps. After a while the crowd dispersed as villagers returned to their work. It was getting dark and Kyla decided to head straight home, however, she did not see Raff anywhere. “Raff” she called as she moved towards the edge of town. She walked a few paces into the woods. “Raff” She yelled with more concern. It was uncommon for him not come on the first call, and he never strayed very far from where she was. When she turned around, the village had disappeared and only trees stood behind her. “Raff?”

[thegoodwolfblog]

3. The Late Spring

Kyla ran to her house, jumped through the bedroom window, and peeked back over the ledge to see if anything was following her. There was no sign of the bounding brown wolf she saw in the clearing.

“Phew” she breathed as she slid to floor. However her relaxation was brief. Her mother’s footsteps were close to the door. “Kyla, Supper is almost ready” Her mother called. Kyla hastily threw the spell book and cloak back in the wardrobe. She tried to kick the old boots off but they were a bit too small for her feet. She was out of time. Her mother was pushing the door open. Kyla quickly closed the window and grabbed her doll in the second it took for her mother’s head to peak around the door. “Kyla, did you hear me? Supper time, come and set the table for your grandparents.” “Sorry, coming now.” She answered She thought she was clear, but her mother looked at her feet. “Why are you wearing those old boots?” “I. ..uhhh… wanted to see if they fit still” “It doesn’t look like they do, put on a more suiting pair of shoes and come out here when you are ready.” Her mother shut the door and returned to the kitchen. Kyla again sank in relief. She removed the books and put on her flat black leather shoes. As she opened the door to join her family she chanced a look back at the window. Her eyes widened in surprise and fear. The brown wolf was following her footprints in the snow and quickly approaching the house. She started to panic. If she told her family about the wolf, they would see her footprints outside and know she left. On the other hand, there was a giant wolf following her. “Kyla. Supper. Now.” Her mother shouted. “Coming.” Kyla bounced into the kitchen with dread in her heart and a smile on her face. “What took you so long?” her mother inquired “Oh just had some trouble getting those boots off. You were right they do not fit very well. Kyla sweat her way through dinner. Her eyes were pealed and her ears were perked. With every gust of wind she thought she heard a howl. With every tree branch rustle, she imagined a claw scraping away at the house. She hardly spoke and did not pay attention to her family until she realized her grandparents were leaving. “Wait! Don’t go!” Kyla blocked the door. “We are not going far just to the inn of town. We will be back tomorrow.” Gran said Gramps lifted her out of the way and winked as he placed her feet back on the ground. Her heart was racing. Though Kyla knew very little magic, she was ready to attack with what she did know, which was mostly making the broom fall over. Gran opened the door and Kyla began to mumble her spell. She paused before she finished her first word. The doorway was empty. She squeezed past her grandparents and looked around. The wolf was gone. “Get back inside this instant” her mother scolded “you are not dressed for the cold” “Yes mother” Kyla went to bed that night hoping the wolf was gone. When she was close to dozing into a dream she chanced a last sleepy look out the window and saw two shock blue eyes staring back. This happened every day. In the morning she would wake up and see the creature sleeping beneath a tree or a rock. At night she saw him staring. Every now and then he disappeared for food and water, but he always retuned. Anytime Kyla left the house he would follow. Her family noticed him as well. At first they were alarmed but grew accustomed to the wolf as he never showed any aggression. “He must have gotten separated from his pack, the poor pup.” Gramps said on night at the supper table. “Still he does act strange for a wolf.” Gran remarked It was a long winter and every day Kyla’s mother showed more signs of her illness. The apothecary visited more frequently and Gran took over most of the sewing. On the first day of spring, Kyla’s mother died. Many tried to console the girl but none succeeded, except the wolf. He found the girl crying beneath a large tree. She was wearing the same red cloak from the day he first saw her. He sat next to her in silence the entire day and did not budge an inch despite his grumbling stomach and stiff limbs. Eventually Gran discovered the two. “What a pair you make.” She said. “Gran” the girl lifted her head “I really thought the spell would work.” “What spell?” Gran asked puzzled. “I overheard Mama talking to you and Gramps and I stole her book and tried to perform the the dici… deca …” “The Decipamort spell.” Gran suggested. “Yes, but it did not work. I am never using magic again.” “Oh don’t say that. That is a very powerful and very dangerous spell. It is good you did not succeed because magic like that has a cost. Your mother knew that.” The girl did not answer and stared at her feet. “I have an idea” Gran said and pointed to the wolf “How about we let this guy inside and train him?” For the first time in days Kyla smiled. She always wanted to raise some sort of animal. “Can I?” “As long as he stayed this well behaved.” “What are you going to name him?” Gramps asked later that day, while they watched the wolf explore the small house. “I think I’ll call him….Raff” the girl answered. “Raff it is.” That night Kyla crawled into her small makeshift bed in the den. Raff curled up on the rug beside her and remained by her side in that house for ten years.

[thegoodwolfblog]

2. The Wandering Prince

Large snowflakes fell, heavily coating the dense trees in the forest, and the blue glow of moonlight glistened as the last auburn rays of sunset retreated from the sky. A small group consisting of two ten year old boys and three knights fought their way through the storm. Their horses limped on slowly, though the path to town had long been obscured.

The first and oldest knight held his hand up signaling for the others to stop. He was in his thirties and wore a maroon cloak and black tunic over his silver chainmail armor. His black hair was drenched and clung to his forehead, and his pale face was covered in flecks of red from long exposure to the wind and cold. “Prince John,” he shouted over the wind. “I think we need to find shelter. This storm is too fierce.” He pointed to a small area where a large boulder was wedged between two massive pine trees. “We could use that rock for shelter from the winds and try to gain some warmth.” “You worry too much Sir William,” the taller of the two boys responded. “This is an adventure. We cannot stop now. I demand it.” Prince John had short brown hair and sun kissed skin. His eyes were sapphire and his thin lips curled up at the ends in a mischievous way on his thin impish face. He wore a purple tunic over his golden armor and a pale green cloak draped his shoulders. The other two knights groaned, but Sir William positioned his horse in front of the prince. “Your father demanded I keep you safe and his orders are above yours. We make camp now.” The prince reluctantly followed. As they approached the boulder, Prince John leaned over and nudged the boy next to him. “Alden,” he whispered, “What do you say we go have some fun?” Alden was much stockier than the prince. His blonde hair was constantly falling into his green eyes and his skin was not as tan. “I do not think Sir William would be very happy. He seems pretty worried and I am a bit cold.” “Oh come on. What good is it being a prince if I never have any fun?” Prince John quietly slid off his horse. The poor animal must have been very tired or poorly trained because he took no notice of his lost rider. The sly prince hid behind a nearby tree and waved for his friend to do the same. Alden looked nervously at the knights riding in front of him and back to the prince. He leapt hastily to the ground and his horse jumped from the sudden movement. The knights turned in surprise. “RUN!” Prince John yelled and the two boys sprinted into the trees. “Wait! You know I am not that fast!” Alden hollered, as he tried to follow Prince John through the dense woods. He lost sight of the prince but continued running from the now distant knights. “Prince John where are-” Before he could finish his sentence a hand reached out and yanked him behind a fallen tree trunk. “Keep your voice down,” The prince whispered. “What should we do now?” Alden asked, shivering. “I have an idea,” Prince John answered excitedly “We should go into town ahead of the knights and pretend to be commoners. That way I can really see the town and not the boring tour I usually get. We could really have some fun. I will tell people my name is Jack. It is much more common than John, and you could be Al.” “I just want to be warm.” Alden groaned “Can we do this another time when it is not snowing?” Prince John pretended to think for moment “Hmm, No” They could hear the knights approaching. Again Prince John ran ahead of his friend but stopped when he saw a blur of red from the corner of his eye. He watched from the top of the hill as a young girl, with olive skin and an oversized red cloak, ran past. Realizing this girl could help him find the town, he ran after her. The girl stopped in the middle of a small clearing, opened a large book that was hidden under her cloak, and began mumbling. Prince John stumbled down the hill towards her. Halfway down he tripped and fell on all fours but continued moving towards the girl. “Hello!” He yelled. “Could you help me?” The girl turned and her eyes widened with fear. She scooped up her book and ran away. “Wait!” he cried as he tried and failed to regain his balance on two legs. Confused, he looked down and saw two furry paws where his hands should have been. He chased after the girl on all fours, yelling for her to comeback, but only a howl could be heard traveling on the wind.

[thegoodwolfblog]

1. One Little Girl

Kyla Daling was a completely normal eight-year-old girl with a completely normal childhood. She did normal chores, lived in a normal house, and wore normal clothes. Every day she woke up, brushed her hair, and ate breakfast as anyone else would. The only difference between her and the other children in town was that Kyla was a witch.

It was a family trait on her mother’s side. The women were witches and the men were warlocks and each generation handed their secrets down to the next. Curious, as children often are, Kyla always followed her mother around and attempted to imitate her magic. Her mother would wave her hands a certain way and the household objects came to life doing their own chores. The broom swept the kitchen, the clothing mended its rips, and the pot over the fireplace loaded itself up with ingredients. Now, this did not mean her mother had it easy. Someone had to monitor the objects or they would run wild. (One time, she forgot the broom was sweeping, and the next morning found it painting the roof, and the pot really did not have the best pallet or patience required for good cooking.) Kyla would wait until her mother went into the next room and then attempt to enchant the objects. She even tried to pull her hair up into a neat bun like her mother’s. Both imitations usually did not work out as planned. “But why must we keep our talents a secret?” she always protested, when her mother scolded her for not being careful enough. “Because people will fear us, use us, and possibly harm us if they knew,” her mother always replied. “How do you know?” Kyla would press. “History,” her mother answered with a peculiar tiredness. Kyla’s mother, Sophie, was a seamstress for the locals in the nearby town, and the townspeople liked to point out how Kyla looked like a miniature version of Sophie. They both had long, chestnut hair and light gray eyes that reflected every color around them. Sophie often called Kyla her “little shadow.” It was just the two of them, living in a small cabin in the woods outside of the village. Sophie never spoke of Kyla’s father - and Kyla knew not to ask. The cabin had only one floor with two rooms. The first large room served as both kitchen and den. It contained a wooden table and four chairs. A rocking chair sat in the corner by the fireplace and a small table covered in a colorful assortment of threads and needles was beside it. The other room was much smaller and boasted one bed with a straw mattress - which Kyla and her mother shared -, a small collection of handmade dolls, and a large oak dresser. They kept a meager garden outside to grow a few vegetables and herbs. Winter that year was especially harsh, so Kyla went into town alone to deliver garments to some residents who could not manage the uphill trip into the forest. Kyla loved going into town because it was colorful and full of life. She would stop by the bakery to try Mr. Gateau’s latest creations. He always let the kids in town try free samples of his newest cookies and breads. As Kyla marched home through the snow clutching a bag of treats, she noticed footprints leading towards the door. She hurried inside and saw an elderly couple sitting next to the fireplace. “Gran! Gramps!” she yelled excitedly. “Oh, no, young lady! Not another step until you take those wet boots and cloak off”, Gran chided. Gran was a plump woman with a kind round face. She kept what hair she had in a bun on the back of her head - but it usually did not stay neat. She was a sweet woman, but strict when it came to manners and cleanliness. Kyla always thought she smelled like poppy flowers, but never knew why. Gramps was a thin, short man with a stooped back. He was bald on the top of his head but had plenty of fluffy white hair growing on the sides. His jaw protruded a bit and gave the impression that he was always grinning, which was not untrue. Gran often said that his goofy sense of humor was his magic. Unlike the women in his life, Gramps did not come from a magical family. Kyla kicked her boots off and tried to throw her cloak on a nearby hook, but she was too short to reach. Gran nodded her head and the coat flew up on its own allowing the girl to run and hug her grandparents. “When did you get here?” she asked. “Oh, not long ago. Come here, I have a present,” her grandfather chuckled. He pulled a strange contraption from his pocket and put it in Kyla’s outstretched hands. It was a wooden hairbrush, but on the backside it was hollowed out and had a small door with a metal clasp. Gramps spent a lot of his time tinkering with ordinary objects to make something new. “What is it?” Kylas asked excitedly. “It’s a hairbrush, but also a treasure-holder. Go ahead and open it up,” he said mischievously. Kyla unhooked the clasp, revealing a woven necklace with a small ruby. “Not even here for a few moments and already spoiling her rotten.” Sophie walked out of the bedroom. Her face was noticeably pale and her cheeks were more hollow than usual. “It’s what grandfathers do best,” he teased. “Honey, why don’t you take your new present into the bedroom and play with it. I need to speak with Gran and Gramps.” “Yes mother,” Kyla replied as she skipped into the other room. After a few minutes, she realized her doll was in the kitchen. Kyla cracked the door open but paused when she heard her Gran sobbing. She sat frozen, listening by the door. “How long do you have?” Gramps asked, his voice cracking at the end. “The doctor said weeks.” “Have you tried everything? What about the Decipamort spell?” Gran asked desperately. “Mother, you know those spells are too powerful. They always require a price, and I couldn’t live with myself if that price was Kyla. Promise me you will not try.” Gramps reached out and took Sophie’s hand in his own. “What can we do?” he asked. “Take care of her for me. Please.” Kyla had heard enough. She shut the door and slid to the floor. She sat there, sorting through her anger and fear until, after a while, she stood up firmly. “No,” she whispered, “I will not lose my mother too.” She quietly climbed her way to the top of the dresser and grabbed her mother’s spell book. “If they won’t do anything, I will.” Since her boots and cloak were in the other room, she put on a pair of old boots and her mother’s red cloak, slipped out of the small window, and ran towards the woods, gripping the spell book.