The fire crackled gently in the hearth, the hiss of flame and occasional pop of wood the only sound in the room. Its gentle glow was the sole light to speak of and, despite its warmth, it cast severe shadows across his parents’ faces. His father, normally so calm and collected, seemed cold and distant as he nursed his pipe. His mother rapped her fingernails against their worn table in a constant, anxious rhythm. 

The silence was suffocating. 

They never had much, but this small, stone shack was filled with happy memories. He and his younger brother had found every nook and cranny to explore, as all children did, and thought it was bigger than it really was. The boys had climbed into the eaves and became royal knights, the house their castle. They had gone down into the cellar and conquered dungeons. It didn't matter that the floors were made of dirt or that they slept in a pile of blankets; they were together and they were too busy planning their next grand adventure to miss what they'd never had. 

Their parents loved them dearly and gave them everything they could, even if it wasn’t much. It was why Kylon, at only 8, couldn’t understand why they were acting so differently tonight. 

Eventually, he grew too antsy to withstand the silence. 

“Mama?”

“Yes Kylon?” she answered, the rap of her nails coming to a halt.

“Papa says there’s only ever been one person in our family to be sick...” he started nervously. “So that means both of us are going to be okay, right?” 

She bit her lip and looked toward his father. His gaze remained glued to their only window, smoke rising from his pipe in silent puffs, embers casting his chin in an amber glow. If he’d heard his son’s words he didn’t acknowledge them. 

Kylon shifted uncomfortably. He wanted to hear that it would be okay, that nothing would change. The knights would come, leave, and then they could go back to exploring the slums like they always had. 

His gaze traveled to his brother, brows knitting together with a weight beyond his years. 

London was a sickly child, pale and thin as a rod no matter how much he ate. His chaotic mop of black hair only served to highlight these features. His condition never seemed to slow him down, though; he was nimble and quick, always outpacing Kylon when it came to climbing, and his yellow eyes were calm and fearless. He’d even jumped off their roof once, though they both got in a world of trouble for it afterwards. 

Now the boy had his head laying on their shabby table, fingers tracing the pattern of the wood as he waited for something to happen. Unlike his brother, he didn’t break the silence. 

Someone had to reassure him that it would be alright. 

“I heard getting your blood tested doesn’t hurt anymore, so you don’t have to be scared of the needle.” Kylon blurted, leaning over so that he was laying on the table and facing his brother directly. “Just close your eyes and look away, okay? That’s what Jenne told me. She got tested last week and said it didn’t hurt at all.” 

“I’m not afraid.” London huffed defiantly. 

Kylon smiled weakly. Of course he wasn’t. He was too young to understand why he should be. 

“You’re not?” 

“No.” 

“Why?” 

The younger boy shrugged. “Declan’s parents said that if our test is positive the knights will take us off to the castle. We could be real knights then! Maybe even the ones with the claws.” he sat up with a grin and curled his fingers to mimic said claws, wiggling them mischievously at Kylon. 

“London!” their mother’s voice was harsh enough to make them both flinch. “Why would you say something like that? Would you rather be one of those creatures than be with your family?” 

“No, mama.” he mumbled, glancing off to the side with a pout. 

Kylon’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything someone began to pound on their door. They all fell silent, staring at it as if the sound were alien. When someone didn’t immediately open it, the person on the other side knocked again, more urgently this time. 

“Open up! We don’t have all night.” 

His father rose to his feet, the worn legs of his chair scraping against the floor. Kylon couldn’t help but notice the way his hand shook as he unlocked the door and pulled it open, his brassy voice booming through the room. 

“Evening gentlemen, sorry to keep you waiting--” 

Two massive figures pushed their way past him before he could finish, their eyes roaming the home with obvious disgust. Neither of the knights acknowledged the apology they were given. 

Both men were decked out in full armor, a glittering sunburst emblazoned on their chests. One was thin and wiry, his nose too long for his face, and he had a nasty scar that twisted from his temple to his jaw. His hair was white, but he didn’t seem old. The other was shorter and more robust with eyes so black and beady that they reminded Kylon of a rat. They both smelled peculiar, like a campfire or mold growing deep in the woods.

The taller one set down a chest that clattered when it hit the floor, the glass instruments inside rattling. 

“We’ll test the older boy first. Sit him down, and hold him still.” he grunted, clearly annoyed that he had to explain anything at all. 

Kylon felt himself being pulled away, his mother’s fingers wrapped a little too tightly around his arm as she ushered him forward. His heart began to pound wildly against his chest, anxiety rising in his throat. He was shoved into a wooden chair with surprising force.

“Mama you’re hurting m--"           

“Hush, Kylon.” her voice was desperate, wild. The panic he saw in her eyes stunned him into silence. 

The knight with the scarred face rifled through the trunk of instruments, a long needle glinting in the lowlight as he pulled it free. It was filled with neon blue liquid that glowed softly. His black gaze fell on Kylon impassively and the boy shuddered; his eyes were endless hollows, cold and exhausted.

He hugged his mother tightly, the older boy trying to turn to face London and force a smile. He had to let them know it was going to be okay. He had to show them there was nothing to be afraid of. 

When the needle went in his arm he had to clench his jaw hard to keep from screaming. A sharp metallic taste filled his mouth as he bit his tongue, tears blossoming at the corners of his eyes. The pain was nothing like Jenne said it was. His entire left arm felt as if it had been lit on fire, and it was spreading quickly.

It was too much. 

He let out a pitiful wail and began to struggle against his mother’s grip in a feeble attempt to escape the pain. The knight huffed and put the syringe back in the chest.

“Positive.” 

A choked sob rose up from his mother at the word, her hands moving to cover her face. Kylon barely noticed, his vision darkened with pain, and he fell to the floor as soon as she wasn’t there to pin him to the chair anymore. London was beside him in an instant. He was saying something, but Kylon couldn’t hear what it was over the sound of blood pounding in his ears.

“No,” his mother pleaded, grabbing hold of the knight’s sleeve. “There must be some mistake--” 

He yanked his arm back with a grunt, the woman falling in a heap on the ground. He didn’t even acknowledge her as he turned to his companion. 

“Hurry up and test the other one.” 

London shrieked as the black-haired knight pried him off of his brother, his legs kicking wildly. He struggled and clawed at the man, but it was no good against his iron-clad grip and the armor he wore. Kylon watched through blurry eyes as his brother was pinned against the wall and the ethereal liquid was injected into him. 

What he saw horrified him. The younger boy’s cries of protest morphed into a blood-curdling scream, his entire body going rigid in the knight’s arms. The fingers on his left hand blackened and morphed into claws, fangs flashed in his open mouth, and the charcoal ears of a wolf sprouted from the mess of black curls on his head. Without hesitation, he lashed out and scratched the knight across the face. 

“Little bastard!” the man cursed, losing his grip on London and letting him fall to the floor. 

Unlike Kylon, he didn’t crumple completely. He dropped to his hands and knees, panting heavily as his body continued to change. His other hand became clawed, a long bushy tail sprouted from his spine, and his entire form trembled. 

“London…?” Kylon asked weakly, fear in his voice. He struggled to get his bearings and extended a hand toward the younger boy. 

He flinched when their eyes locked. His brother’s gaze was still brilliant gold, but his pupils were slitted like a fox and the whites of his eyes had gone completely black.

His fear was reflected on London’s face. His stomach dropped as he realized that he must have changed, too.

The beady-eyed knight held a hand against his face, blood dribbling between his fingers, and glowered at London. Before anyone could stop him, he kicked the boy in the side and sent him skidding across the floor. He let out a yelp and fell a short distance away, moaning as he curled in on himself. 

“Load them up.” the knight growled, casting another glare in London’s direction. “And put that one in chains.” 

“No! I don’t wanna go!” Kylon shouted, panic rising in his chest as the other knight grabbed him roughly by the arm and started to drag him away. He heard the heavy clang of irons as they closed around London’s small wrists. 

Desperate, he looked for his parents. 

His mother looked on with tears streaming down her cheeks, but she didn’t move to help them. She had collapsed in the center of the room, her sobs subsiding into shuddering gasps. There was shock in her expression, but there was also something else...something Kylon had never seen in her before. 

Fear.

An uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest, like a shard of glass had just lodged itself into his heart. 

Is she afraid of them? He thought.

He searched for his father, lips already parted in a plea, but the words died in his lungs when he found him. His father’s eyes, usually so warm and mischievous, were cold as they met his son’s gaze. His lips were drawn into a hard frown and he looked down at them with disgust. 

The shard twisted deeper. 

They’re not afraid of the knights. He realized, his tears now falling in earnest. They’re afraid of us.

The muscles in his jaw worked as he looked away and tried not to cause them any additional pain. The least he could do as a good son was try to keep them from feeling guilty. 

Kylon felt the collar of his shirt tighten against his throat as the bleeding guard proceeded to gather both boys up. A half sigh, half grumble came from the other as he fished out a stack of paperwork.

“As you’re probably well aware, these boys are now the sole property of the crown. Visitation is strictly prohibited. Don’t come looking for them; doing so will only result in permanent consequences. You will, however, be compensated for your loss.” The words sounded rehearsed, obligatory.

Kylon didn’t hear any of it; all he could focus on was London now. He did his best to offer some sort of comfort, but the smile he forced onto his lips was as broken as his family. 

London looked away without returning the gesture.

Everything from that point seemed to blur together. Pain, rejection, confusion, loss -- it was all the same to Kylon and he felt numb as the knights forced him out the door of the only home he’d ever known. 

The air outside bit his face, the frigid wind slicing through his meager clothing with ease. He stumbled as the knight set a pace he couldn’t keep up with and he fell to the ground with a yelp, knees scraping painfully against the cobblestones. The man didn’t even slow down, opting to drag him behind him instead of helping him up. He kicked and screamed until they arrived at a carriage drawn by black horses. The beasts stamped their hooves, breath rising from their flared nostrils in a fog. Then he heard the metallic clink of a lock. 

He struggled to his feet just in time to glimpse a prisoner’s carriage opening before them, it’s wooden sides reinforced with metal. It had a single, small window covered with bars. There were a few figures huddled into the furthest corners, but he didn’t have time to get a good look at them before he was roughly tossed inside. He landed awkwardly, his spine twisting, and a pained cry slipped past his lips.

The boy didn’t understand why these men had decided, within the span of a few minutes, to be so cruel to them. He blinked past the tears as London was tossed inside with him. The door closed with a heavy thud and the sound of locks clicking into place echoed within their new prison. Moments later, the crack of a whip echoed somewhere outside and the cart lurched forward. 

Silence settled over them, broken only by the sound of hoofbeats against stone and the occasional rumble of the knight’s muffled voices. Soft sobs occasionally rose up from the back of the cart, but they always fell quiet again shortly after.

Eventually, Kylon’s trembling hands found his brother’s shoulder. 

“Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you too badly, did they?” he asked, trying to sound calmer than he felt.                                                  

London didn’t respond immediately, his features riddled with shock. Kylon gave him a little shake and the boy’s black and gold gaze finally focused on his.Tears welled in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry!” he blurted, his now-clawed hands raising to rub at his face. “It’s all my fault! I should have never said we could be knights. Mama always said there’s power in words and... and I… I just...” 

He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished as his small body started to shake, emotion and the cold overwhelming him. 

The attempted apology made Kylon’s heart clench. He struggled to find something to say in response, but what could possibly make it better? It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but he knew how they’d be treated now. He saw the way people looked at the beast knights; the way they watched them in fear, in horror, as if they’d never been human. 

Even their own parents hadn’t stepped in.

A bump in the road was the kindest gesture he could have received at that moment; it brought the two of them together. Even with his own body shaking, Kylon found a way to wrap his arms around London. 

The other boy stiffened, but didn’t pull away.

“Don’t say that.” Kylon whispered. “It’s not going to be that bad. Like you said, we get to be knights now. We'll protect others and get stronger and stuff…”

London didn’t seem convinced. His tears still fell, but his sobs eventually grew silent. After a few tense moments, the younger boy buried his face into his brother’s shoulder and wept. 

They stayed like that for the entire first night, their small bodies huddled against the cold. The next morning brought bright winter sunlight and a meal tossed at them through the bars of their prison wagon. Bread and herring, hardly appetizing, but they both wolfed it down eagerly. The other children in the carriage eventually grew brave enough to introduce themselves. Many of them had wolf-like features, but others looked completely human. One unfortunate girl, who introduced herself as Amaryllis, even had digitigrade legs covered in silky white fur. 

“Bet I could kick your ass with them.” she huffed when Kylon pointed them out. When he took her up on the challenge she proved, without a doubt, that she was the best fighter on the wagon. 

He never made the mistake of commenting on her “condition” again. 

New kids joined them regularly as the carriage made its way through the kingdom and, when their wagon was full, more carriages and knights joined the procession. Kylon charmed them all, making friends as easily as he always had. His charisma and optimism drew the others to him like moths to a flame. He quickly found himself laughing with them as they whispered about the knights behind their backs and told stories about where they’d come from. He comforted those who needed it, laughed with those who let him. One boy even managed to bring dice with him when he was taken and Kylon learned that his luck was about as good as his fighting technique.

London, however, remained silent and grew more distant with every mile they traveled. He hadn’t spoken since the night they were taken and he avoided the other children like the plague, Kylon included. Most of his days were spent in the darkest corner he could find, as if he were trying to become one with the shadows and disappear. When he wasn’t there, he was on his tiptoes looking past the bars of their single window to watch the world pass them by. 

Anytime Kylon tried to talk to him, alone or otherwise, he’d just turn away and find a different corner to sulk in. Eventually, he stopped trying and gave him the space he so clearly wanted. 

It stung, but what else could he do?

“What’s wrong with you?” one of the boys shouted. He’d tried to get London to play one of their games and got a fierce shove in return. The blonde had him by the front of his shirt now, one arm drawn back to punch him, but London wasn’t putting up a fight. 

“Leave him alone!” Kylon shot back angrily. 

The other boy jumped in surprise and stared at Kylon wide-eyed. The rest of the group followed suit, never having seen him angry before. The carriage fell silent as London turned his eerie black and gold gaze on him, the abyss of his eyes uncertain. 

Kylon silently urged him to say something, anything…

London just looked away and slipped out of the other boy’s grip, his steps light as he whirled away from him and retreated to the window. 

“Freak.” the boy muttered, falling back into the group as they gathered to gossip. 

Kylon sighed and headed after his brother, grabbing the bars and pulling himself up to the window. London didn’t acknowledge him, but he didn’t expect him to. 

It was a beautiful day outside. The sun sparkled off the freshly fallen snow that blanketed the road, only a few deep, muddy rivets marking the path that other wagons before them had taken. The wind whistled through the bare branches of the trees all around them. Two massive stone walls lined the road on either side, the top bristling with spears and barbed wire. Cracks ran up their sides and ivy clung to their edges. Kylon knew that there was a narrow path on the top of the walls for the guards to patrol, but the guards themselves were few and far between.

 He craned his neck to try to see beyond the walls, and what he saw gave him the chills.

A billowing gray fog stretched as far as the eye could see in any direction, towering far above them like an impenetrable wall. It shifted and writhed like a living thing, a thundercloud that had taken up residence on the ground instead of the sky, and it crackled with energy. Ripples of white and black occasionally pulsed through it, its monochromatic presence all-encompassing. 

The Endless Vale. 

“Do you ever wonder what’s in it?” London asked, his voice hoarse from lack of use. 

Kylon gave a start. He hadn’t expected London to speak at all, let alone about this. 

“Monsters, I think...” he replied.

They’d heard stories about the Endless Vale all their lives. It had simply appeared hundreds of years ago, settling over the land like dense fog, and people had gathered to wonder at it. Or at least, they had until monsters began to emerge from it and rip them to shreds. They’d been forced to surround their cities in walls, surrendering the wilds to the creatures born from the mist. 

“Not just monsters.” London answered, his gaze still fixed outside. “Treasure. The artifacts that the knights and explorers bring back. Don’t you ever wonder what they can do? Or why they’re there?”

“Guess I’ve never thought about it.” 

“Well, I think about it a lot. Maybe something in there could help us get rid of it, or make us normal again.” 

He hesitated before answering. 

“Maybe.” he conceded. “But it’s really dangerous to go in there. Most people don’t come back, you know. Even the knights.” 

Most people who ventured inside never returned, but some had made a living out of hunting the peculiar artifacts that could be found in the Vale’s depths. Those artifacts, for better or worse, were the only thing of value their country had to trade with others. The Vale had made them prisoners, but also provided for them. 

He didn’t think anything had ever been brought back that could cure them, though. 

“Yeah.” The younger boy fell silent for a moment, biting his lower lip before continuing, softer. “Do you...feel anything when you look at it?” 

“What?”

“When you look at the Vale.” London repeated, sighing as he tore his gaze away from it to look at Kylon. Dark circles ringed his peculiar eyes. “When I look at it, it just feels like something in me wants to go out there.” 

Kylon frowned. Looking at the Vale filled him with dread,perhaps a little curiosity, but nothing more. He wanted to run away from it, not into it. 

Reading his expression, London huffed and started to walk away. “Just forget it.” 

“Wait, London--” 

Kylon started to follow after him, but the younger boy tucked his head down and ran to the back of the carriage. 

He sighed, his brows furrowing with the weight of responsibility beyond his years. He knew he was supposed to look after his younger brother, but how could he do that when he’d become a stranger? 

The road that led from their small village to the kingdom’s capital of Moongarde was long and treacherous. Like the other few roads in the kingdom, the walls lined its entire length, separating travelers from the Vale. It wasn’t unusual to see them covered in claw marks or crumbling in places, broken by something that came from the fog, and the children liked to make up wild stories about what could have caused such damage. It was fun at first, but after a few days’ travel they all but stopped looking out the window because the scenery never changed. It was only the road, the walls, and the Vale.

Kylon had just started to doze when the carriage jolted to a stop. Voices rose up from outside, uneasy and hushed, and the cart shook as the knights disembarked. He blinked drowsily; they didn’t usually stop for the night. He stood, moving automatically to join the other children as they jostled for position around the window. They parted for him and he pulled himself up with a grunt, his face pressed against the bars. 

The hazy glow of twilight greeted him, bathing the scene in fading amber and dusty violet. One of the walls here had collapsed entirely, its massive stones blocking the path, and a wagon was overturned. Blood was streaked on its side and the horses that had been pulling it were dead, their necks cleanly cut. Other travelers were gathered in front of them, some on foot and some in carriages, and all of them chattered with unease. It was hard to see from this far back, but Kylon could just make out the outline of corpses on the road. They were covered with shabby blankets so their faces were hidden, but their blood was bright red against the snow. 

“Get back!” the white-haired knight snapped, his face blocking out the scene as he stood in front of the window. “You little snots don’t need to see this--” 

He never finished his sentence. 

Kylon heard a soft hiss as the knight’s head jerked forward, the point of an arrow sticking out of his left eye. He felt warm droplets of the man’s blood splatter across his face and watched in horror as he stood there for a moment, mouth gaping, before he crumpled to the ground. 

He barely had time to let go of the bars before a wooden panel was slammed shut over the window, plunging them all into darkness as chaos erupted around them. Screams pierced the air. He could hear the clash of steel and the snarls of beasts. A howl rose up from somewhere, as did the scent of burning hair. 

Kylon trembled; his hands shook and his breath came in shallow gasps. He desperately looked around for an escape, but the darkness was so all-encompassing that it didn’t matter if his eyes were open or closed. 

“What’s going on?!” 

“Somebody shot him!” 

“I wanna go home!”

The other kids’ voices slowly broke through the shock that had overcome him. He forced a breath inward, trying to calm down. 

“Kylon!” 

A hand found his shoulder and, without thinking, he reached out and grabbed their arm and used it to pull himself up. When he was on his feet he found himself looking into the brilliant gold of his brother’s gaze. 

Are his eyes...glowing? 

“We have to get out of here.” Kylon said, his grip tightening on London’s arm. “Can you see?” 

The other boy nodded. “Yeah, but there’s no way out--” 

The wail of frightened horses drowned out whatever London had planned on saying next. Kylon instinctively covered his ears and the others screamed as the cart jolted violently to the side. 

What’s happening? Is it something from beyond the wall? 

Kylon felt his sibling’s name catch in his throat, his hand instinctively trying to reach for him in the utter darkness. He felt his fingers brush against London’s sleeve, but before he could pull him closer the carriage rocked again. This time the force was enough to knock it over.

He fell with a scream, a sharp pain blossoming in his shoulder as someone else landed on top of him. 

“London? London!” he gasped, lungs straining as he struggled to untangle himself from the other children. There was no reply. Fear clawed at his chest; London was all he had now. If anything happened to him he wasn’t sure what he’d do...

The ungodly sound of metal being ripped apart caused his next cry for his brother to die in his throat. Light pierced the darkness as claws drove their way through the carriage door, its hinges moaning as they were torn from their sockets. He squinted up at the figure looming before them, its back haunched and fangs flashing, and felt his blood run cold. 

It was a beastblood. More wolf than man, the creature stood at least eight feet tall and was covered from head to toe in matted brown fur. It wore leather armor and had some kind of weapon across its back, but Kylon couldn’t tear his gaze away from its eyes. They were electric blue and too human for comfort. 

Just as the beast moved to step into the cart the rattle of gunfire stopped it. It lurched to the side, snarling as it clutched its arm, and disappeared from view as it set its sights on whoever attacked it. 

“Let’s go!” London shouted, seeming to materialize next to him. 

Kylon felt himself being pulled forward and almost fell as he was yanked out of the carriage and into the muddy street. It was pure chaos. Screams cut through the air, accompanied by the gruesome symphony of gunfire and the clashing of steel. Many of the carriages were on fire and he could hear the muffled wail of people trapped inside as they passed one.The smoke stung his nostrils and, no matter where he looked, he saw bodies. 

Beastbloods, knights, children; all were soaked equally in their own blood and filth, but there were far more knights on the ground than monsters. 

They’re losing. Dying. He thought dismally. What chance did they have if the knights couldn’t stand up to these beasts?

He was torn from his thoughts by the frantic scream of a horse. He looked up just in time to see the creature barrelling toward them, its coat on fire and its eyes wide and panicked. He froze, his shoulder popping as London tried to keep running. 

It slammed into him, the animal’s shoulder meeting his chest with enough force to wrench him from London’s grasp and send him flying off the road. He landed face down in the ditch, his head spinning as he tried, and failed, to get air back into his lungs. His ears rang, everything else around him muffled as he struggled in the mud and stagnant water. 

It felt like he was drowning in it. 

Finally, mercifully, he was able to suck in a breath. He coughed and, ignoring the pain that spread through his chest, clawed his way up the slick edges of the trench to get back to the road. 

He had to find London, they had to run, had to escape…

He froze once he made it to the top. The beastblood from before had his brother; he was kicking and screaming, even digging his claws into the beast’s arm, but it held him tight. A knight stood before it, but the man had been skewered by the beast’s lance-like weapon. It pulled its weapon back with a squelch, the knight crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap. 

London’s eyes rose to meet his, their golden depths struck with terror. 

“Kylon, help!” he screamed, one of his hands reaching out toward him as the beast began to run toward the wall. 

“No!” he gasped, struggling the rest of the way up to the road and stumbling after the creature. 

It was too late. The beast leapt over the crumbling wall in a single bound and disappeared into the swirling mist. 

“London!” he screamed so loud that his voice cracked, but it didn’t bring him back. “No no no, please…” 

He fell to the ground and sobbed, no longer caring about the danger around him. He tilted his head toward the sky with a wail, his eyes blurry with tears, but he fell quiet as he realized that he could see something at the end of the road...something looming on the horizon. The spires of a magnificent castle were silhouetted against the dying light of sunset, the warm glow of its massive windows visible from miles away. 

The capital. 

They’d almost made it.

Almost.