{"sf1_id":755110,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Wolf Creek Ruins","author":"StGeorgesHorse","words":1896,"posted_at":"2014-09-10T14:41:00.000Z","tags":["Discovery","Human","Plot Development","Story Progression","Werewolf","back story"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/755110-wolf-creek-ruins","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/755110","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=755110\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"#28 of The Moonrise Chronicles","content":"            The next morning Edward got up and without\nsaying a word, went out to look over the remains of his grandparent's house. He\nwas wearing a pair of coveralls given to him by Marcus. They were a little\nshort, but they were better than the jeans he had stolen from the clothes line.\nHe didn't have any shoes, but he morphed his feet into paws, and the tough pads\nabsorbed the pressure from the stones and debris.The road was in poor shape, an\nobvious sign the county didn't pay much attention to this neck of the woods. It\nwas hard to imagine any sort of community being built here, with only a\nfarmhouse remaining and not much else around. But he began noticing other\nabandoned structures, some no more than stone foundations. There must have been\nsomething here at one time.The spot designated as being his\ngrandparents place was as overgrown as the cemetery had been. He went to work\nremoving the saplings and vines and in short order had a patch cleared. There\nwasn't much left. Chunks of charred wood littered the ground, along with broken\nglass and melted clumps of metal. He was careful not to touch any of it in case\nit was silver. He hadn't had a problem with it yet, but then his only experience\nwas holding his dime after slicing it from his hip.He sniffed around, but the fire had\noccurred so long ago that there was nothing to be learned from his olfactory\nsenses. Instead, he got down and scraped away at the dirt and leaves, looking\nfor something he could take away as his own. His lucky coin was lying in the\ndirt in Central Park, and everything else was either at the hotel or at his\nhome. He had no interest in returning to either place now.He stumbled on a mound of dirt and\nlet out a curse. It was a groundhog hole. The oversize gophers were always\ndigging up the ground and piling dirt before their entrances. He angrily kicked\ndirt down the tunnel in frustration and stubbed his toes on something hard. He\ncursed his stupidity for assuming it was all dirt. There were plenty of rocks\nburied underground too.The force of his kick dislodged it.\nHis attention was drawn to the fact that it had a square corner. It wasn't\nimpossible for it to be natural, but it was unlikely. He knelt and pulled it\nloose. It came away, trailing sand and dirt. He sat down and examined it. That\nit was old there was no doubt in his mind. It was dark brown with green encrustations,\nwhich in his mind made it brass. Or bronze. Pure copper was unlikely.He brushed the dirt off and as he\ndid, shapes and symbols emerged. He was struck by the one on top. It was hard\nto tell, but it sure looked like a full moon and a werewolf to him. It had to\nbe something left over from his grandparents. He tried to open it, but either\nfrom the dirt or the corrosion, it refused to budge.He stood and stepped out from the\nwreckage and walked back up the road. He went into the barn and found an old stiff\npaintbrush and used it to the clear away more dirt. He finally got it cleared,\nthough hardly what he would call clean. It had a small lock built into it, so\nit's stubbornness in opening might be more tied to that than its present condition.He carried it inside with him and\nsat down at the kitchen table. The missus was fixing some breakfast, and he was\nsurprised by the smell of bacon. She heard him sniffing the air. \"We thought\nmaybe you'd prefer to eat something a little more human.\"He chuckled. \"You mean a little\nless human don't you?\"She smiled at him. \"Take it as you'd\nlike. I just hope you have a stomach for it. We have to take the elixir with us\nwhen we go places.\"\"Yeah, what's up with that?\"\"The elixir? It's an old recipe\nthat was brought over from the Old World.\"\"No, I mean why can't werewolves\neat, well anything?\"\"Oh. Well I suppose we can dear.\nAnd we do, if we absolutely have to. But it doesn't agree with us. I would have\nthought you would have already known this. When was your transformation?\"\"It's been a couple of days now.\"Marcus walked in just then. \"WHAT?\"\"I said...\"\"I heard you son. What the hell\nkept you from changing?\"\"A silver coin embedded under my\nskin.\"\"Son, you and I need to have a long\ntalk.\" Then his eyes fell on the small metal box. He grew extremely excited and\nagitated. \"Ma look! He found it! He found the Sanctuaire de la Lune!\"She had been intent of fixing the\nfood and talking with their guest and had not paid attention to it. She dropped\nher spatula on the floor. \"It is! It's the box! Where did you find it son?\"Edward stood up and backed away. \"What's\nso special about this box?\"Marcus put his arm around him.\"Son,\neat some breakfast. It's going to be a long, long day.\" Speaking of long days, the drive\nacross New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois to Wisconsin was taking\nforever. Of course, the adults had an easy time talking, because they were all\nrelated. Maggie listened to snippets of their conversation, but overall she\nimmersed herself into the giant tome.She had almost been afraid to touch\nit, but Reynaud assured her it was a sturdy book. The pages were peculiarly\nthink and strong, and when she asked, he said simply. \"Skin.\" She shrugged and\nkept reading. Not all of it was in English. There\nwas French on some pages, and on others Latin. Some had Spanish, and in a few\nspots, languages she didn't recognize.The artwork in it often said more\nthan the words. In one section she found an image of a large dark wolf with\nblood pouring from its wounds. A man dressed in period costume was holding a\nrifle. The words surrounding it were in French. \"Is this the part about the beast?\"He glanced at the book. \"Yes. Would\nyou like me to translate it for you?\"\"You can read French?\"\"Oui!\"He took the enormous book and set\nin on his lap. \"Herein is the account of the death of the Great Beast, the Were\nof Gévaudan. It was known that the Beast became enraged by a family feud in the\nsummer of seventeen sixty four, and in a fit of anger, lashed out at the local\npopulation. Attempts to entreat her to return failed, and over time, she became\ntotally overtaken by insanity. After three years and many deaths, the beast was\nfinally laid to rest by one Jean Chatel, of the lesser family of Gordare, upon\nthe order of the king. Thus ended a stain upon the House of Bourbon.\"Reynaud stopped. Maggie looked at\nhim. \"What's wrong?\"\"I'm sorry little one. I haven't read\nthis book in ages. I missed something important, or else I forgot it. Then\nagain, I would have had no reason to bother remembering it. We thought the line\nwas gone.\"\"The line of what??\"He looked down at the young girl. \"Your\nfather might be part of the Bourbon family.\"\"Ok. Should that mean anything to\nme?\"\"I guess not on that name alone. The\nhouse of Bourbon is very famous if you know your history.\"\"So you see, history isn't my\nstrong point.\" He sighed and rubbed her head. \"You are yet\nyoung. Trust me, knowing your history often tells you where you are headed. The\nHouse of Bourbon was where some of the greatest rulers of France came from. Louis\nthe Fourteenth for example.\"\"The Sun King?\"\"Oh, so you do know some history!\"\"Well yeah. But I never heard the\nBourbon name before. Are you saying he was a werewolf too?\"\"No. But he had the bloodline. I\nthink you already know how that can work. But there was nothing stopping a\nrelative of his from being a full werewolf. I don't know why this bit has been\nmissed. Edward's grandparents must have moved out of the country to here for\nthe same reason my family did.\"\"Food?\"\"No little one. Persecution. When\none of us is found out, even a relative as mighty as a king cannot protect us.\nLouis the Fifteenth was in power during this time. It could very well have been\nhis own sister who he had to have killed. And if she was in the wilderness for\nthree years, I can only imagine the things she did.\"\"Like?\"\"Like become the alpha female of a\nwolf pack. It would account for the stories of all the abnormally large wolves\nin the region.\"\"So you're saying that it's actually\npossible for a werewolf to breed with a regular wolf?\"\"Not for any werewolf. But for one\nof the one true blood line, yes, it's possible.\"\"So the wolves back at the sanctuary?\"\"We'll not worry about them for\nnow. We'll check again in two to three months. I hardly want to be considered\ncruel, but it I have to, I'll kill ever cub to make sure there are no hybrids\nin the batch.\"Maggie bit him. \"Why? That's awful!\"\"Maybe little one, but if they grow\nto be big and strong, there will be more terrible things happening than just a\nfew juvenile deaths.\"She growled at him. \"No! We can\nraise them ourselves. You'll d no such thing as kill something bearing the\ngenes of the kind. What are you, some sort of monster?\"Lupenia calmed her down. \"I agree with\nthe girl. We cannot kill an innocent or else we'll be no better than Mr. Fish.\nWe will wait and monitor the situation. It anything comes of this then we will\nact appropriately. But remember dear, this is not a safe world for our kind anymore.\"Maggie was disgruntled, but she\nsaid nothing more. Over the long drive she read as much of the book as she\ncould. She memorized every inscription, every painting, every sketch. In one\nspot she found an inscription bearing a crest and coat of arms. It seems to\nhave nothing to do with the kind, but it was so well detailed that she looked\nit over at length. Whoever had rendered it had a talented hand.Below it was the image of a key,\nperhaps meant to be part of the crest. She tapped Reynaud on the knee. \"Does this\nlook familiar to you?\"He turned his head to look. \"As a\nmatter of fact, it does a bit. But I can't say from where. A lot of old keys\nwere made to go with the lock, not only in functionality, but in looks. That's\nthe Bourbon family crest, so I suppose the key represents something important.\"\"It looks big!\"\"I don't think I could say. It\ncould be the key to a crypt, or a treasury; it doesn't say anything about it\nhere.  It may just be nothing.\"Maggie closed the book. 'From what\nI can tell, this book isn't filled with nothing. I think that when this is over,\nI'm going to transfer everything over to my computer.\"\"Would that be wise?\"\"Well, for one thing, if this book\nwere to get lost, you'd lose everything. Even werewolves have to get with the\nprogram. This is the twenty first century. It's not like you can stay living in\nthe past in the middle of nowhere!\""}