Illustration by Shabazik
In her small cell in Castle Kreuzfeldt. , the center of the Holy Order of the Sword of Nortender, Pris, daughter of Amphy the Amphibian Girl, looked across the wooden table at the earnest young werewolf, and sighed.
Behind Pris, in various stages of slovenly undress were Pris's two Ozcura half-sisters, the orcpeliers Hortense and Magdalena, who were giggling, whispering lewd suggestions in Pris' ear and winking at the increasingly uncomfortable werewolf.
In her journey north through Aels, Pris had been captured by a band of orcpeliers - Ozcuras who had switched sides from the armies of the Dark Legion of Demons and enlisted, for a variety of reasons - with the Dark Legion's mortal foes, the Christian kingdom of Nortender and the Holy Order of the Sword. The warrior monks of the Order took many non-humans into their ranks, a tolerance regarded as near heresy by many others in the Christian kingdoms But humanity was losing the Second War of the Power at this point, and the Order needed to make use of anyone it could.
The heads of the Order did not seem to know exactly what to make of Pris, who seemed both human and yet not entirely human. She was not exactly a prisoner, but not exactly free to go, either. She had avoided telling them much about Earth , and the ways between the worlds that she had used to make her way to Aiers after the death of her mother.
Discovering her two half sisters - daughters of Layla the Chain Mail Bikini Warrior and her father, Bog the Barbarian, had been a decidedly mixed pleasure. Pris, who had idolized the father she had never known growing up in the Louisiana bayou, found the reality of Bog the Barbarian's notorious womanizing and his many, many offspring all over Lower Poliforia and the continent of Aels an unpleasant surprise, and her two new sisters had a special knack for getting on her nerves.
"Could you two knock it off?" said Pris, taking an irritable swat at a grinning Hortense. The two were even more annoying than usual. They had recently decided that Pris's adherence to what was, to them, an unnatural and debilitating form of chastity was actually detrimental to her health. Their crude and clumsy attempts to fix her up with knights of the Order, the stableboy, the renegade succubus working in the library, a Galaw orc prisoner and any passing stranger that caught their undemanding fancy were a constant source of aggravation to the somewhat withdrawn, aloof, diffident-seeming Pris, whose reserved manner concealed a shy, sensitive nature.
There was nothing shy or sensitive about either Hortense or Magdalena. "It is so romantic! He is looking for his father who he never knew! Hiz father came from that stupid Earth planet you is always going on on about" Hortense said.
"I never go on about..." replied Pris had replied angrily.
Hortense waved a grey, clawed hand dismissively "It soundz like a real boring place anyway."
Magdelena sidled up to the bench alongside the werewolf, who recoiled from her with a look of horror in his soft brown eyes. "It iz fate! First you tell him about hiz father and, uh, heal hiz soul or something..."
"And then you fuck!" said Hortense, eyes glittering. "Can we watch?"
"No, you cannot..." Pris halted and began again "We are absolutely not going to..."
"But why not?" asked Magdalena, "Loooook how cute and fuzzy he iz!"
The young werewolf stood up abruptly, depositing Magdalena on the floor. "I must apologize, gentle Lady Pris, for the uncouth ways of my orcpelier companion. On my honor, I, Frank, son of my father, Frank, have sworn an oath to train in purity and chastity, until I can take my place in battle alongside my brethren of the Order."
"Some in this order" Frank the Werewolf Knight added, a slight edge in his voice, "may not take their vows seriously - I do! Be assured, Lady Pris, that the sword of Frank is ever ready to guard you, and I have no intention or desire to violate the sacred temple of your body. "
"Um, okay" said Pris. Hortense groaned. "He iz alwayz talking like this."
"The Dark Legion of Demons has been sent to plague Aiers as a condign punishment for our grievous sins" said the young werewolf "the sins of all it's peoples, including even the humans, who brought the word of Christ but who often most stand in need of His forgiveness!"
"Some humans think we werewolves to be wholly creatures of darkness" continued Frank, his voice rising, trembling a little with long suppressed emotion "but if He wills it, I will prove otherwise on the battlefield!"
"Ah..." replied Pris "Well I guess you can do that."
"My father died before I was born" continued the werewolf knight "and my mother was taken by a fever when I was young. I was taken in by a family of Christian werewolves far, far to the north of here. They knew nothing of my father. "
"We were not liked by our human neighbors." The young werewolf paused,
"I do not blame them for that, considering how many of my kin have enlisted in the service of Hell. I have long ago forgiven them. Humans are now my brethren, and in their schools, here and elsewhere I came to understand that Christ Jesus saves all, that all are equal in Him. But all the time I was growing up, I thought to myself - I knew - that my father had been a hero! He must have died fighting the foul fiends in the south, else why did my mother flee north with me into Nortender, into Christian lands?"
"When these good orcpeliers told me you came from Earth, - a word that is one of the few things my poor mother left me - I came hoping that you might have known something of my father. legends, ballads perhaps."
"Earth is a very big place" said Pris, gently "I don't think that..." Pris stopped in midsentence. All this time something had been increasingly nagging at the back of her mind, something about the young werewolves' appearance, the way he stood..."Wait Your name is Frank, right? And your father's name was Frank as well?"
"The very same name, a name I hope to bear with honor" replied the young werewolf gravely "although, begging your pardon, gentle Lady Pris, the way you pronounce it is very strange"
And then, suddenly, Pris knew. The way he pronounced his name in Lower Poliforian, that's why I didn't recognize it right away.
"Oh my God" Pris said "You...You're the son of Frank the Werewolf!
And then the memories came flooding back.
"You knew my father?" the young werewolf sat down "Please...please tell me about him!"
"My mother knew him. Back on Earth, after she'd come back from this world"
"Your mother..." the young werewolf paused, "Wasn't she the one they called the Swamp Demon? The Amphibian Girl? The Killer of Ozcuras?"
"Ha!" said Hortense. "Her mom tried to kill our mom" added Magdalena smugly "but our Mom was Layla the Chain Mail Bikini Warrior. She way smarter than frog lady!"
"Goddamit, Magdalena!" said Pris , pale with fury "try saying that again"
Magdelena just laughed, and Hortense shook her head "Our half sister is kind of boring and real touchy but I guess we iz family after all."
"Please." said the young werewolf "from the stories I've heard about your mother, Lady Pris, she only fought the unconverted Ozcuras of the Demonlands, not orcpeliers in God's service! Surely she fought on God's side whether she knew it or not!"
"The only side my mother was ever on was her own" muttered Pris
"Can you tell me about my father? What did he look like" The young werewolf's soft brown eyes were fixed steadily on Pris. "Tell me everything"
Pris' mind was in turmoil. What am I going to say to him?
Back on Earth, back in Louisiana where she had grown up with her cryptid mother, living with her in the riverside cave that was their home, she had known Frank the Werewolf.
Frank the Tweaker Werewolf, a skinny, mangy smelly creature, who barely survived by breaking into apartment mailboxes, prowling cars, stealing copper wiring, and similar crimes. In his criminal career, Frank displayed determined, stubborn stupidity. He nearly died when a attempt to take down a power line for the copper left him with severe burns. He would break into convenience stores, start drink cans of malt liquor from the cooler and be found passed out on the floor the next morning. As as werewolf he was feared by no one, and his ill-timed attempts at burglary invariably resulted in him being beaten and stomped nearly to death by his would be victims, or sped on his way as he fled the scene by a homeowner's shotgun.
Pris could still hear's Frank the Werewolf's aggravating, intolerable whining voice as her mother Amphy grimly extracted the shotgun pellets from his hide with a pair of tweezers. "Dammit, Amphy!" Frank was complaining "I'm a werewolf! I'm a feared supernatural creature of the night! Why the hail ain no one afraid of me? Why don' they have no respect?"
"It's not werewolves folk have no respect for" said Amphy "It's just you, Frank"
Frank had shown up when Pris had entered Napoleonville High School. "This was a difficult time for her for all the usual reason and for other reasons as well. Her mother, Amphy the Amphibian Girl was a unacknowledged but all too real and universally feared figure to those living in the area and it was no secret that Pris was her daughter. As a result Pris led a lonely existence, surrounded by a invisible bubble of fear.
This was in no way made any easier by Pris walking into the main living area of their cave and being presented with the unwelcome spectacle of her mother huddle on a blanket next to a naked hairy canine thing. The room smelt of wet dog and unwholesome physical activity, overlaid with a faint bluish haze from the meth bong Amphy and her friend had been passing back and forth as they watched Jeopardy! on an ancient b/w portable Tv set.
Amphy turned and saw her daughter, and instantly leapt to her feet as she tossed a blanket over her companion. "Oh, hey, lil' tadpole, you home early..."
"Don't think we've been introduced, Mom" replied Pris.
"Kin I come out from under the blanket now?" the werewolf asked .
Pris had never seen her mother quite so flustered "Shut up, Frank!" Amphy snapped, and punctuated her request with a kick "You stay under that blanket until I say otherwise!"
"Listen here, lil' one" Amphy hissed very rapidly to Pris "don get the wrong idea that just Frank he don mean nothin' what yore dear father and your mother had was love this ain love this jus' kine scratchin' an itch now how about you uh, go on to your room an' I'll hustle him out of here real quick, okay?"
"Goddammit, Mom! A werewolf?"
Amphy blushed a deeper shade of green "Your poor mother got needs, lil' one. When you older you'll understand" her mother finally muttered, not looking at her daughter.
After that, her mother's new boyfriend seemed to be there all the time, showing up at all hours of the day or nights, wanting to get high for free, needing to borrow money, whining at length about his bad luck and about how nobody ever gave him a break.
Pris hated seeing Frank slouching around the cave, how he cringed and wheedled and begged for drugs from her mother ("Feelin' awful sick, if you coul' see your way to frontin' me a teener I swear I'd pay you back on th'...")
Pris also hated the effect that Frank seemed to have on her mother, the way Amphy treated Frank with faint contempt, ordering him about, rarely if ever using his given name but addressing him instead as "furball" or "hey, you".
But above all Pris hated hearing the muffled cries and groans from her mother's sleeping area. You said my father was the only man for you Pris thought furiously, feeling betrayed on behalf of the father she'd never seen. At such times she wished that somehow she could summon her father, Bog the Barbarian, from distant Aiers to set everything right. He'd cut your fucking head off, Frank, and then Mom and Dad could be together and we'd be a family and everything would be fine! Pris said to herself, hot tears welling up in her eyes.
Weeks of frustrated hatred finally came to a head when Pris brushed past in one of the dimly lit cave tunnels and felt - or thought she felt - the werewolf attempt to grab her ass. Whirling around, Pris grabbed Frank by the throat and slammed him against the tunnel wall. She felt his skinny, body tremble helplessly, saw the look of mortal terror on Frank's furry face.
"Real sorry, Miz Pris, just an accident, din mean nothing..." Frank choked out the words.
"Shut up!" Pris had never been angrier in her life "You ever even think about touching me again, you rotten fleabag and I will wring your fucking neck!" Pris slammed the hapless werewolf against the wall again, before releasing him to slide down and fall to the tunnel floor, cringing and holding up his arms to shield his face.
"Stay way the hell away from me, Frank!" Pris hissed. Repeating that " it just an accident, real sorry" Frank got shakily to his feet and stumbled down the tunnel away from Pris, muttering random apologetic words as he went.
Cursing under her breath, still furious, Pris made her way to her part of the cave, turned on her sticker-covered boombox and popped in a mixtape, fast forwarding until she got to Gang of Four's "Armalite Rifle" She put on her headphones and turned up the volume.
Armalite rifle police duty eh?
Armalite rifle use it everyday
It'll do you damage it'll do you harm
Blow your legs off blow your guts out
"Do you damage, Frank" she muttered
It'll do you damage it'll do you damage
Damage damage damage damage damage
Pris rewound the cassette tape and listened to the song again, imagining blasting Frank the Werewolf to bloody rags. She felt a little better.
The next morning, Pris entered the common area of the cave a little apprehensively. Had her mother heard the altercation she'd had with Frank last night?
Her mother was setting out breakfast - two bowls of Froot Loops cereal, two glasses of Sunny D quasi orange juice - when she saw Pris.
"Morning mom" Pris said.
Amphy looked up, an odd, uncertain expression on her flat green face. "Mornin', lil' tadpole"
Something's different Pris thought. Then she noticed that the pile of dirty blankets, shopping bags, glass pipe and other assorted filth that Frank had had brought into the cave with him was gone.
"Um" began Amphy "Your dear mother owes you an apology, lil' one. Had no right to inflict the furball on you, an' I know how much you hated havin' him aroun' He gone for good now, an he won't ever be back. And I won't ever put you through nothin like that ever again, I swear. I know" Amphy paused, looked at the floor " I ain exactly mother of the year as it is, and I surely mus be a sore trial to you at times, dear one, but no call to make matters worse."
"He's gone?" said Pris
"Oh yeah, gone for good, he ain darkening our doorstep - well, cavestep ever again!"
"Mom" said Pris "You didn't..."
"No, no, nothin' like that. It kine in poor taste to be cuttin' the throat of someone you recently shared uh, intimacy with...although I declare I was tempted when a half pound of Chine White mysteriously grew legs an' vanished from here. But, no."
"No" said Amphy, grinnin' "Poor ol' Frank, as you may have noticed, ain exactly doin' to well here, ain really fittin' in. So I says 'Frank', I says ,You need a change of scenery. Some place with co-operative females an lots of yer fellow werewolf kin to help you out!"
"Huh?" Pris said, sitting down to her Froot Loops "Where would that be?"
"Oh," Amphy said, waving one big webbed hand at nothing in particular "Far away, lil one. Far away from here! Showed him how to get there an' gave him some advice on where to go and who to see over there. They'll make him feel right at home, fix him up proper!"
"Um, okay, whatever Mom" Pris replied.
"Important thing he gone, an he ain never comin' back!" Amphy picked up the plastic jug of Sunny-D. "Here have some more of this, citrus, keep the fuckin' scurvy away!"
Whatever the truth of Frank's final destination was one thing was certain - as her mother promised, Pris never saw Frank the Tweaker Werewolf again.
"I...I didn't know him personally...too well."Pris stumbled, as the quiet young werewolf in the surcoat and tabard stared at her.
"He was distant, quiet" Pris improvised frantically "Your father always stood up for what be, uh, believed in...he had a real passion, for, uh, justice."
"Of course" replied Frank, Jr (as Pris mentally dubbed him) "Of course. And that is why he came from distant Earth to Aiers, to fight for God's cause against the foul fiends. He fell in unequal combat, defying them until the end. Sacrificing himself to save us all."
Wait Pris thought Something's wrong here. Frank was no heroic fighter! Frank was terrified of everything! There's no possible way he ever defied any foul fiends!
And then suddenly Pris knew. Mom! she thought.
"Far away, lil one. Far away from here! Showed him how to get there an' gave him some advice on where to go and who to see over there. They'll make him feel right at home, fix him up proper!"
Mom sent him here! Mom sent him to Aiers!
Poor taste to slit your lover's throat? Her mother had thought of a better way to dispose of her unwanted canine companion. Gave him some advice? Her mother had told him who to see and where to go on Aiers, all right!
Did she tell Frank about all the hot 24/7 pussy Frank could get from the Ozcura warbands or even the supposedly Christian orcpeliers? Did she forget to mention what Ozcuras did to their lovers afterward? Pris recalled a common saying on Aiers - Ozcuras always break their toys.
She glanced over at Magdalena and Hortense, who were grinning and showing their sharp little pointed teeth. Pris shuddered. Poor stupid horny Frank! Even he didn't deserve that!
Or did her mother urge hapless Frank to visit his werewolf kin in Pumori's domain, in Howl? "His kind" indeed? The werewolves of Howl had a short way with petty thieves like Frank and in short order the easily angered Pumori would have had Frank's mangy hide nailed to the city walls. Did her mother fail to inform poor Frank of that?
Of course she did Pris thought That was why she was so certain Frank would never, ever return from his trip across space and time, walking the ways between the worlds to his certain death!
Behind cheerful rural cryptid Amphy, behind a loutish facade, was another personality that came out when needed - Amphy as she had been millions of years in Earth's distant past, when she was Lieutenant Inarraa, intelligence officer in the Second Main Directorate of the Army of Great Dagon - cold, calculating, cunning and cruel.
A elegant solution Amphy /Inaraa must have thought Let others do your killing for you, just by withholding a few facts from your victim.
And again Pris wondered - had her mother overheard the altercation in the corridor that night, when Frank - maybe - tried to grope Pris? That alone would have enough to seal Frank's fate.
And now his son was sitting across from her.
"Thank you, Lady Pris" he was saying. "Thank you for telling of my father, of his bravery and selfless sacrifice.
What? Pris thought I hardly told you anything at all!
"I swear I will take my place with my comrade Knights of the Order - although some say I am too young yet! Deus Vult! I will avenge my father in honorable battle against the Dark Legion fiends!" The expression on the young werewolf's face seemed almost transfigured.
Oh God Pris thought You've been lied to all your life. First his mother - devising some facesaving myth to hide the sordid reality of Frank's wretched demise. As I did, just now
Pris thought, with a kind of helpless despair I lied because it was easier, because I couldn't tell him the simple ugly truth so I made up a pretty lie instead.
And these lies are going to get him killed.
Looking at Frank Jr, Pris saw now how much he resembled his poor hopeless father - how, despite all their differences they were alike in one respect - they were both doomed.
"Again, many thanks Lady Pris" the young werewolf "Your tales of my noble father will give me courage in the fight to come. You have done me an immense service."
Pris wanted to scream No, no you fucking fool, no I haven't! I've helped to lead you down the road to your death, just like my mother did to your father, all those years ago!
But instead she just nodded, and tried look gracious, and said as little as possible.
Much later, after the werewolf knight had departed, Pris sat staring out one of the narrow windows in the tower.
Her Ozcura half-sister Magdalena came upon silent Pris.
"Hmmph" said Magdalena "Staring out the window? Hortense and I went to lots of trouble getting you together with that cute wolf boy and nothing happenz! You iz really weird half-sister!
"Sorry" Pris replied.
"You goin to start fadin' away if you don't loosen up a lil' an' get some" Magdalena assumed a slightly hectoring tone "We iz your half-sisters an' we iz only thinkin' of your health. Also we iz rresponsible to Brother Cleves for you stayin' alive an healthy..."
"Look" said Pris, turning away from the window to face Magdalena "I'm fine, just not not in the mood for..."
"You been crying?" Magdalena said, seeing Pris' swollen eyes and wet ear tracks down Pris face.
"Whatz there to cry about?" asked the Ozcura, genuinely puzzled. "It a nice day, sun shining, me an' Hortense was thinkin of doing a lil reconnoiterin across the line and maybe collect a few headz, do a lil' looting...We can get two coppers each for our erring sisterz headz, easy money! You should come with uz, half-sister Pris, show you lotz of wayz to sneak up..."
"Not up for it just now," Pris said, wiping her eyes. "Maybe another time."
Magdalena shook her head "Crying over nothing! First sign of your brain softening! Pretty soon your brains gonna run out your ears an your junk gonna fall in. Don say your dear half-sisters didn't try to help you!"
"Not too late yet" Magdalena added. "There a real cute elf boy started workin' in the library, we could grab him an tie him up an you wouldn't hardly have to do anything..."
"Thanks" replied Pris "I think I'll pass."
Magdalena threw up her grey clawed hands in disgust. "Fine, fine" she muttered, before finally stalking off down the stone corridor.
Pris watched her go, and then sat down again, suddenly feeling very tired.
What was I crying about? Pris thought. She had never been much for tears, in contrast to her emotional mother. She always hated the idea of losing control.
Was it for her mother, long dead and left behind on Earth? Was it for Frank Junior, who she knew would soon lie torn and lifeless on some some bloody battlefield or another? Was it for poor, wretched Frank, Senior, hopeless and miserable, who would have been better off never having being born at all? Or was it for herself, as the two fates of father and son revealed to her that the world was a pointless, meaningless cruel trap, leading nowhere but to pain and death?
Dear reader - who ,whether you know it or not yet, are caught in the same cruel trap - perhaps poor Pris was crying for all of them - pathetic Frank Sr, doomed Frank Jr, her mother Amphy, who Pris missed every day...
Perhaps she she shed a tear for all of them.
And for all of us as well, our futile plans, our approaching death, - all of you reading this now.
May the ever merciful wonderworking Daughter of the Deep forgive us all.
