1The air was crisp and the sun was out.
In the distance, Shirou could hear the yips of young wolf-kin playing on the outskirts of the marketplace, could smell the various wares, could feel the brisk winds combing through his hair. The first thing he noticed in the marketplace was that there were more people out and about. Wolf-kin, bearkin, and now ram, and raccoon clans, too.
"HEY! Get back here, you good-for-nothing-punks!"
Shirou whipped his silver head around to see the young wolf-kin jumping around the market stand. Bowls tumbled to the ground as they rounded a bowl of salted jerky. He couldn't blame them, but that didn't mean it was okay.
"Get out of here!" he growled, morphing into his wolf form. The kids scattered almost immediately at the sight of him, throwing sorry's over their shoulders.
"Please don't tell my mom!"
With a shake of his head, Shirou turned back into his human form and apologized to the vendor.
"Sorry about them. It's hard for the young ones to resist." Shirou handed the vendor a coin.
The human vendor scoffed as he quickly collected the coin and picked up his stock. "You know, maybe it's a sign for me to move on."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you know. There's been disturbances," the vendor's eyes shifted away.
"What? Where?" Shirou's brow furrowed.
"To the north of Sylvasta…look, they're probably rumors." The middle-aged man proceeded to pack up the rest of his shop and made sure not to meet Shirou's eyes.
Shirou was perturbed. There were disturbances? Shirou thought to himself. There hadn't been any signs of rebellions or unrest since…well. For his entire life there had been peace in the East. That's why humans and beastmen alike were moving near the developing and thriving forests. He hadn't smelled anything off on his way into town either, only the normal sights, sounds, and scents of a groggy spring. There was the budding grass, the dribble of melting snow, and gentle floral and pine wafts, just the way spring always was.
Shirou shifted back into this wolf form and lifted his nose into the air to catch a whiff of anything amiss. There was something strange about that human turning away when he asked about the disturbances.
And his nose was never wrong.
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A strange trail led Shirou to villages a little bit to the north, just like the vendor said. He was 3-4 miles out from the forests of Nirvasyl at this point. He could see the tree-clad hills out to the west, the ones that separated Nirvasyl from Sylvasta.
That's awful…
The trail led him to newly marked graves. Both human and beastmen scents were mixed in the trail.
Before he could give it another thought, Shirou heard the most terrifying howl. It was a howl of pain and fear. Never had he heard anything like this. Never had he heard anything that made him instinctively run with such urgency.
Rounding on his heel, Shirou ran full speed in the direction of the howl, at the base of the hill nearest town center.
Something is horribly wrong! Someone desperately needs help…
Then he heard a chorus of howls of varying pitches. They all said the same thing. Danger is near.
The fur on his back was raised, and he was ready, poised to attack anything—anyone—putting his clan in danger.
The fastest way was to run along the treeline, though just inside it to have some coverage. He could just make out a volley of arrows coming from the hilltop toward the town center.
What? There is an army marching on Nirvasyl? Only humans use weapons…
Next came the screams, the gruffs, roars, and the growls. People, no, beastmen were getting hurt and hurt badly. Shirou chided himself for being so far away from his kin in their time of need.
As some of the trees gave way to houses, Shirou caught the undeniable whiff of blood. It made him sick.
"HELP!"
"Mom, it hurts."
"No! Dad!"
"KENJI! Where are you!?"
"Honey, are you okay?"
The chorus of howls blended with a chorus of panic-stricken cries of children calling out to their parents and everyone calling out to their loved ones. As the trees gave way, Shirou saw a scene that would no doubt stay imprinted in his mind forever.
There was blood everywhere. Puddles of blood. Streams of blood. Tears of blood.
Why? What did we ever do to you? Shirou could not fathom the root of this unjust violence.
The humans on their horses marched. Volleys of arrows landed on their targets. He did what he could to swipe away the arrows, but for every one he diverted 10 more took its place.
He could see the unmistakable Sylvastan tree coat of arms on the hill top. More arrows. More screams. More blood.
One burly beastman from the ram clan was shot with 4 arrows at once. He savagely wheeled around and charged. He was promptly stabbed from the left, and slashed from the right.
The beastmen were helpless against the long-range bows of the Sylvastan archers. Some beastmen made it halfway up the hill, but there were too many arrows to make it all the way. If the arrows didn't get them, the swords did.
Shirou looked around at his fallen kin. The soldiers had started to retreat, since they were nearly through with their slaughter. Shirou was filled with anger. He let out a guttural howl. He raced to the top of the hill, to the source of the arrows and marching soldiers. There was the general on a horse at the front. All Shirou saw was red rage as he made an attacking leap.
"Your kind won't be a danger to us anymore," the Sylvastan general gloated. He had readied a spear angled at Shirou's gut. It didn't miss. "I'll do you a favor and leave you with your kin." With a hefty shove, Shirou tumbled down the hill.
Shirou didn't give up. He valiantly tried to get back up, crawling up the base, howling and yelling all the while.
"Why would you do this?" he howled.
The general got off his horse and marched down the hill, only slightly surprised the wolf beastman hadn't succumbed to his fatal injuries yet.
"Because…" the general removed the sword from his hilt. "It's necessary to rid the world of your filthy kind." Tired of the wolf's pained howling, the general slashed Shirou's throat. He turned on his heel and marched back up the hill, leaving a sea of death in his wake.
The last thing Shirou saw before he closed his eyes was the boot of the general stepping over his fallen clan.
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Shirou's eyes fluttered open.
I'm…alive? He thought.
All around him was a bluish-silver glow.
Is this coming from me?
It was also raining crumbles of…he didn't want to know. Then it all came rushing back to him. The pained chorus of howls, the rivers of blood…the general. The general was leading the army that slaughtered his hometown.
I'm going to RIP HIS THROAT OUT!
With a powerful howl, Shirou stormed up the hill, clawing at everything that moved. To him, any soldier standing between him and the ruthless general was just in the way. He ripped limbs from bodies and clawed soldiers off their horses. Arrows ricocheted off him as he broke bows. He tore through bodies as images of red flashed before his eyes. Swords clamored to the ground. He never felt so powerful. With every step, he got closer to the general.
WHERE IS HE!
Shirou caught a reflection staring back at him in the eyes of a dead solder. He didn't recognize himself.
Is that…me?
He noticed there were no more scents of living humans. In fact, there were no scents of anything living around him. With a start, Shirou realized the scene before him was no different than the one of his fallen kin.
There was blood everywhere. Puddles of blood. Streams of blood. Tears of blood. But this time it was by his own hand. He was a one-wolf army.
He fell to his knees. Looking down, he realized he was back in his human form. His hands were coated in red. He killed all those people and somehow the general had gotten away.
Shirou was still staring at his bloodied hands. I slaughtered an army. Am I any better than them? If I create this much bloodshed…does that make me any better than the humans who slaughtered my kin?
Shaken, Shirou took his wolf form and disappeared into the woods.
And that's my first BNA fic! Let me know what you think.