The Shadows Book One: The War for EarthEnd.

Chapter One - The Faint Shadow.

Liki Wolfspirit.

Fires ravaged the small town as clashes of sword on shields rang throughout above the sounds of falling houses and crackling wood. Screams of the residents as they ran away from their now ablaze homes were most prominent, along with the crying of small children and the agonized screams of Fangren protectorites as the invaders moved swiftly from target to target, easily moving deeper into the town.

Invaders set ablaze house after house after looting what they could of obvious value, killing anyone hiding before razing the house, they continued on with their murderous onslaught.

In a small one room house in the middle of the village, two Fangrens attempted to gather thier things the best they could for their retreat. A few rucksacks of food and essential materials such as cloths and trade money was all they had when they prepared to leave. The male Fangren opened the door to the hell outside and his mate followed with their small one year old son held in her arms. The small child was frightened out of his mind; despite how small that mind power was at one year old.

"This way!" The father cried over the sound of battle and fires and they started running. The young Fangren was fumbled about in his mother's arms clumsily as she ran with her mate. The heat and noise numbing his mind of the situation, he only stayed quiet and stared blankly at the groups that fought against dark clothed individuals.

The family pushed their way through a battle zone, the adult male keeping back an attacker for a moment before disengaging to continue running with his wife and child again. The other made no effort to persue, instead returning to killing off the last of the town knights. They dashed into the surrounding forest, which was now slightly aflame.

Both Fangren ran until they could run no more, and stopped finally. The sounds of battle and glow of fire had vanished. Silence whispered about them in an all too eeriy way, but eventually they decided they were safe and the male whispered after taking a moment to catch enough breath.

"We should go to Breman, across the Swineland mountains, that's where most of the families will surely go."

"But then that's where there will be sentries set up to kill any survivors that escaped like us," His mate told him, "If the Kingdoms find out about this, then the Kildak Pack will be forcefully supdued by them for this outrage. We should go to Heartwood, across Highhills and Dustshore, and tell the Borian King about this instead."

"We don't have enough water to get through Dustshore and Highhills. Both of the regions are deserts!"

The little boy looked back and forth between his father and mother, trying to understand their words. He had only learned to speak about five words not even a week ago, Dad, Mom, Food, Water, and his name among them mostly. His father was whispering something about food supplies when the boy suddenly felt his mom's arm tighten him to her, almost crushing him.

He tried to cry out but was unable to becuase of the crushing grip. His mom began to sway and then suddenly fell foward, the boy hit the ground hard with her, but still unable to make a noise.

"Terra!" His father got down and shook the female's body, restricting his effort to cry out even more, "Terra!"

A noise sounded as an unknown person jumped from a tree and landed on the large male. They fell to the ground and rustled about, the boy's father shouting words of anger that the boy had never heard him even mention before. This lasted a few minutes until the screams were muffled then suddenly cut off and silenced as a body hit the ground lazily.

The boy heard footsteps by his mother's body, still unable to make a noise under his mother's wieght and her arm still clinched around his body. He expected his father to somehow get her to move and wake up, but he only heard hands patting across his mom's body, taking things out of her one pouch pocket and then the knapsack she had been carrying.

The movement left and he could scarcly hear the same patting down somewhat away from them, and then the noise of footsteps as whoever was there left.

Still the boy waited for his father or someone to move his mom off him, or for her to wake up from whatever had happened to her and get back up, and to hear her say she was sorry. Yet nothing else happened, and for twenty minutes the boy cried in his head, his voice unable to make a noise as he was still crushed.

It was then that his mother's arm suddenly relaxed it's hold on him, and he was able to take a deep breath finally and cry silently. He fully expected that his mom would wake up and get off him, but she did not move an inch, only her arm continued to unfold and relax slowly. He cried out louder, again expecting the noise to make his mom react, but still nothing.

A little upset, he growled, a puppy growl that was more cute then fierce, and wiggled his way backward under his mom. His small shirt was ripped apart by rocks on the ground as he wiggled, and the tattered pieces fell off him. He turned around under his mom and wiggled foward toward her shoulder then, his small shorts were pulled down his legs by her wieght, leaving him without any clothing. With those gone, he slowly managed to wiggle free and poke his head out into the air by her unmoving head.

He nosed the side of her muzzle with his with another puppy growl, but still she would not respond. There was something shiny sticking out of her neck, but he paid no attention to it. He stared away from her angerily and noticed his father laying a bit away from them as well. Now he was confused, why were both his parents laying on the ground? With incredable effort he pulled himself out from his under his mom by digging his claws in the ground, and shakely stood up. He slowly walked the way toward his father. Perhaps he would respond to him instead.

He got down on the ground before him and touched his arm. His father's body felt cold, not like how it was usually nice and warm. He pushed against his fur and whimpered, "Dad?"

As his eyes were now adjusted to the night, he looked over his dad's body, laying on his back with his claws, hands and arms red and fur ruffled. The pup noticed that his father's neck was red and a large gash was along it. HIs eyes stared up at the sky blankly and dull, not bright like normally when he smiled at him and held him back home. His jaw hanged open lazily like he was trying to take a large gasp of air.

The child whimpered again, more urgent this time and pushed his hand into the fur again, "Dad?" His voice cracked with tension in worry and near tears.

Still he did not respond. Niether of his parents were responding to him, and that was not like them. What was wrong? What was wrong with them?

The pup whined softly and sat there a moment before whining again, tears starting to run down his face. Something was wrong, and he no idea what it was, and his parents were not doing anything to attend to him. He rose and walked back to his mom, crying and whimpering. He laid down next to his mother, shivering from the cold of night due to his now lack of clothing, and snuggled agianst her for warmth, only to find that he felt none from her body.

He cried again, unsure of how to help his parents or if there was anything he could even do to begin with. With effort he moved back under her body the best he could and laid there, crying, his tears flowing down onto the ground.

As the night continued, his mom's body only continued to grow colder on top of him, and his shivering and sniffling increased in volume and fregrancy through his crying. He felt cold and hungry, and he had no desire to move out from under his mom's body. He eventually began to fall asleep, his mind falling away from his own self.

The sound of footsteps woke him up later on, and he had to use all the energy he had left to even open his eyes. A faint light was shining through the trees now, the beginning of dawn. His body felt tired and weak and numb with cold. He moved his now dimmed blue eyes downward to stare across at his father's body, and saw a shadowy person kneeling over his father's body.

This surprise gave him a renewed amount of energy despite how cold and hungry he felt, and he wiggled and gave as loud a whimper he could muster.

The stranger jumped and turned quickly toward the sound, pulling two small shiny things out from holders around his waist, but then he noticed the pup, and came foward into a ray of light, putting the two gleaming objects away.

It was another Fangren, though very old. His muzzle was grayed with age and he wore a leather tan colored outfit with a hood around his face, his wolf like ears poking out of holes in the cowl. His fur was gray on his hands, with some white scattered among it, and his tail was poking out behind him through a hole in his tan colored pants. A medium sized backpack was srung onto his back and about four pouches were along his waist with the two holders for the shiny things he had pulled out earlier. The pup looked up at his eyes as he stood above him, they glowed a light green, like the other old Fangrens back home. He knew this trait made this old Fangren special somehow, as he had been taught they were his superiors.

He kneeled down in front of the child and whispered, "How long have you been here?" He asked to himself mostly. He reached and rolled the child's mother off him. He whimpered at the loss of contact with his mother but felt much better when the stranger took hold of him and he could feel warmth seep into him quickly from the touch.

"You're so cold young one. You've been here all night haven't you...Where's your clothes?" He asked pulling him to his feet and realizing he was wearing only his gray fur.

The child knew the word clothes, and he eventually pointed his numbed arm down to the ground where his mother still laid and whimpered again.

The old Fangren turned his head and used one hand to move her while holding onto the pup and holding him close for warmth. He noticed and picked off the small thing that was stuck in her neck and examined it. It was a dart.

"Poisoned, venom from Rotted plants...instant death..." He tossed the dart away and found the shredded remains of a shirt and a pair of shorts.

"Well here we go. Your shirt's gone but you still have pants." He picked them up and eased the boy down to his rump to sit. "Here, let me get them on you."

He let the stranger pull the pants up his legs to cover his naked body, and whimpered again as he kept staring at his mother.

The stranger spoke once the pants were back on him, "How old are you?"

The pup tried his best to understand, relfecting back on how his mom and dad would talk to him playfully and muse over how he answered in a way that made him smile, "One." He answered holding up one finger and whined again when he heard no encouragement or happy pets to how he talked. The Fangren seemed nice, and he didn't sound mean or anything. Yet what he was really wishing for right now was for a warm hug.

And it seemed his new friend could tell that was what he wanted, becuase that's exactly what he got. The stranger took him in his hands lightly and hugged him to his warm chest, and the pup cuddled against him and murred for once in a long time. And then suddenly the stranger was holding a small peice of meat in one hand, placing it in his hands.

He took it eagerly and ate it hungerly, still leaning agianst the old Fangren.

"I can feel your emotions when you're stressed...you don't need to talk to let me know what you want." The stranger whispered and petted his still bare back slowly, his hand giving him more warmth. The child was now feeling much better, and he ate the meat quickly and stared up at the old Fangren's face with a small smile along his muzzle, though his thoughts still returned to his mom and dad.

"I'm sorry child, but your mom and dad can no longer help you...and you can no longer help them." The stranger whispered, again seeming to know exactly what he was thinking. Though he didn't understand most of the words, the tone made him whimper, and he did know the subject was his mom and dad, and putting two and two together with the tone of voice and how his parents seemed to be he could tell that it wasn't good. Surely this nice old Fangren would have fixed them by now if he could?

The stranger turned so he could not see the bodies from where he was holding him against his chest, "I'll take care of you little one. There's alot that happened this night...What's your name?"

"Name?" The pup repeated, he knew this, "Liki."

"Liki. That's a rogue's name..." The stranger whispered, then asked, "Anything after that? A lastname?"

"Um..." Liki thought hard, "Wolf...Wolf..." He whimpered as he tried to remember, he had been learning that for awhile now from his parents after he had managed his first name.

"You can't remember. It's okay, but you're pureblood."

Liki nodded, though he wasn't sure what he was nodding about, he just didn't want this stranger to leave him alone now, nodding seemed the right thing to do for that.

The old Fangren smiled, "You probably don't understand most of what I say. I'm Uriay. U-rey-i." He pronounced it.

"Uray." Liki tried to repeat clumsily and the Fangren laughed and started to walk away from the site of his parent's bodies.

"You'll get it eventually. Just keep trying."

"Urye." Liki tried again as his new friend moved him up so he could see over his shoulder and hug his neck for support. He saw the bodies of his parents behind them, still laying still. He had nearly forgot about them, and he whimpered at the sight of them. He continued to stare until they vanished among the trees, then whimpered again and whispered, "Uriay..." He whimpered agian and nuzzled against his new companions neck, trying to find a new sense of comfort like he got from his parents.

"Uriay..." he murred as he nuzzled, and then he slowly fell asleep while being carried by Uriay.