Chapter Three

Galan led us unto the den of our living quarters, sitting himself into the chair by the fire. It had been lit by one of the serving men who had run ahead of us, anticipating that we would come here to talk. I sat on one of the other chairs near the fire, I was still chilled to the bone from being outside all day, but now I was also cold for other reasons. Nick pulled his chair near his fathers and sat, waiting for his father to speak. Galen turned and addressed his son,

“Nick, as the next leader of our pack, what I am about to say would have been passed to you regardless although I had not thought it would be so soon. Katerina, I also wish to share this with you, though you are technically not in line for any leadership. It is important that you listen with open minds." He paused and took a breath.

"Upon the ascension of each alpha, not just in our pack but others across the world, the story of Lycaon and his heinous deeds are passed down in the belief that should he ever return, the information within the story could be used to defeat and banish him once and for all. I will tell it to you in the way that my father and fore-fathers have passed it down through each generation.”

Galan’s face turned ever more serious, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on his words as he spoke, relating to us the tale that would haunt me and my dreams for years to come.

“Long ago in the time of the ancients when the gods and goddesses were still honored and feared lived a king in the province of the Greek occupied lands. Arcadia, as it was called, was ruled by a cruel and ruthless king. King Lycaon lived in a grand palace filled with treasures he had acquired through his ruthless and cruel ways.

He had rooms of gold, stables full of the best horses and a throne made from the bones of those who displeased him. For all his wealth, his people suffered, for he did not care that they were starving or sick. He only cared whether they would pay their taxes to the Arcadian crown or suffer the dire consequences of which was usually a very painful death.

King Lycaon’s people feared him so much, that he found little opposition to his cruel ways. He loved nothing more than seeing the pain and fear in his victims’ eyes. By the fifth year of his reign, word had spread of his barbarity and murderous ways. The people of neighboring lands stopped their travels and trade with Arcadia for fear they would be murdered next.

 King Lycaon saw his towers of gold slowly start to decline and grew furious, blaming the people of his country. He had families thrown into prisons, husbands ripped from the arms of their wives and killed outright in the streets, their blood staining the cobbled stones. His bloodthirst only grew, a new evil awakening within him. Now he not only enjoyed the death he gave, but yearned for it, in the way some yearned for the juice of the poppy.

In this time, Lycaon took to his bed many wives producing fifty sons and three daughters. All but one, Nictymus, followed in their father’s footsteps. Each son was as cruel as their father, helping to destroy all those within Arcadia that Lycaon blamed for his depleting gold stores. Lycaon sent his sons abroad in desperation, to loot travelers and steal precious cargos.

He sent his daughters to seduce wealthy men, poisoning them and taking their fortunes. This proved fruitful for the king, and he saw his coffers grow again. In all this time, he was also a faithful worshipper of the Greek Gods and Goddesses, always observing the feast days and rituals, but not in the way other Greeks honored them.

Lycaon lived in a time when human sacrifice to the Greek Parthenon were no longer accepted, Zeus abhorred the practice and had put a stop to it. King Lycaon, however, did not follow the edict and continued to sacrifice his people to the various gods and goddesses. He took great care in his selection, choosing those who were the best in looks and skill. Zeus ignored Lycaon and his barbaric practices and cruel ways for as long as he could, but it finally became too much for the great God and he hastened down from Mt. Olympus.

Disguised a merchant wishing to take up trade with Arcadia, Zeus visited the great palace of Lycaon and his family. He was greeted with embellished compliments and invited to share dinner with them that evening. Still disguised, Zeus agreed to dine with them, knowing full well they were only trying to ply him as a potential trade deal. He wanted to see just how awful this Lycaon was, or if there was just a misunderstanding between him and his people.

Lycaon and his sons left Zeus in the company of the three daughters, going to the kitchens of the palace. Lycaon was not fooled, he was older and far more twisted in his soul, but he did not believe that the stranger in his palace was here for trade. He believed the stranger was sent to rob him of his treasures and concocted a plan of revenge against the newcomer. He wanted to make another human sacrifice, but instead of offering it to the deities this time, he wished to serve it to this new stranger and only tell him after words what he had done before killing him.

All his sons but Nictymus agreed to their father’s plan. Nictymus did not believe in the things his father had been doing over the years and had greatly opposed him. Lycaon grew furious at this final refusal of Nictymus and so killed him. Lycaon and his sons then used Nictymus and so had him cooked and served to the stranger. The daughters of Lycaon were sent away as dinner was served to the men, the stranger first to be served. Lycaon and his sons did not wait for the disguised Zeus to taste the dish first, but cruelly dug into their own plates. 

The almighty Zeus did not take one bite of the meal served before him and instead roared in a thunderous rage. He knew what Lycaon was trying to coerce him to eat and flung the table in his rage, crushing one of the sons to death. Lycaon grew wide eyed and pale with fear as the true identity of this stranger was revealed, and so looked upon Zeus trembling under his infuriated gaze. Zeus spoke in a large and booming voice to Lycaon and his remaining sons, declaring their actions appalling and gruesome. Zeus cursed Lycaon, turning him into a wolf for all of eternity and killing his remaining children, intent that the blood of Lycaon would no longer taint the land.

Lycaon was banished from Arcadia and the people slowly forgot him as they learned to live under a kinder and more thoughtful ruler. He traveled the forests for many years, angry and bitter of how Zeus had treated him. Even cursed into a wolf, Lycaon still did not understand that it was his cruel actions that had earned him this fate.

In wolf form, he still did not change, killing just to do it and always disappearing before he was caught and never lingering in one place for long. He may have had the body of a wolf, but his mind was still his own and so through the many years of his continued existence, searched for a way to reverse the curse upon him.

One day, Lycaon encountered a woman in the northern forests of Roman territory. She recognized who he was, as she was the goddess Hecate. Hecate hated Zeus and the other deities and agreed to reverse the curse. Hecate tried to lift the curse, but the power of Zeus was too strong and so she could only manipulate the curse. Lycaon could now take human form, but on the night of the full moon was forced to transform into his wolf counterpart once more. Lycaon was the first werewolf to walk the Earth.

Hecate and Lycaon decided to work together to try and bring revenge upon Zeus. The years continued to pass and soon Lycaon realized that when Hecate transformed the curse, so too did it give him special powers. His bloodthirsty ways continued, and he learned that he could turn a human into what he was, and so he decided to build himself an army of werewolves to overpower Zeus. Lycaon’s followers had all the traits of Lycaon, they could transform at will but had no choice during a full moon. They were stronger and faster than humans, but they did not get the eternal life that Lycaon had, only a longer than average lifespan. Lycaon was content with his creations and so continued to amass an enormous army.

In this time, Lycaon had lain with Hecate, and she bore them a daughter called Elexis. The great love she suddenly felt for this child lifted blindfold of lust and power from Hecate’s heart and she began to loathe Lycaon and his path to vengeance. No longer wishing to be a part of Lycaon’s schemes, Hecate left with her daughter one day when Lycaon was away. Upon learning of Hecate’s abandonment of him, Lycaon only grew more passionate for the destruction of the deities and their king.

As Lycaon grew his following, he grew more powerful, for his followers had begun the art of sacrifice again but to Lycaon this time. With each drop of blood spilled in his name, Lycaon grew so powerful that he was able to finally challenge Zeus. Zeus was outraged that Lycaon was able to thwart his punishment and with his fellow gods and goddesses met with Lycaon for a final bloody battle. Lycaon and his followers were strong, and Zeus was nearly overpowered.

 At the last-minute Hecate appeared and told Zeus of the one flaw of Lycaon’s new form. And so, Zeus forged a lightning bolt of pure silver and plunged it through his heart. Lycaon, however, did not die but was paralyzed by the silver piercing his body. The power that he had acquired had kept him from instant death. Hecate used her powers to bind his body within an ancient scroll and to be kept forever in a secret place no one would ever find.

Lycaon’s surviving followers scattered after the battle and roamed the world over slowly adapting to their new forms and forgetting about Lycaon and his schemes. They built families and villages and learned that their children were born as werewolves and so built their own communities they called packs, much as they way wolves in nature do. The years passed and so Lycaon and his story turned into legend, never believed but always around the hearths of werewolf homes.

The gods and goddesses of ancient Greece too disappeared, also becoming myth, as people changed in their beliefs and time moved on. Elexis, the daughter of Hecate and Lycaon grew up never knowing of her father and his atrocious deeds, only knowing that she too had the power to become a wolf. She married to another werewolf and had children of her own, who in turn married and had children of their own and so on. Hecate never mentioned Lycaon to Elexis or her grandchildren, and so Lycaon shifted into obscurity to become nothing more but another myth of ancient Greece and the rest of the world.”

Galan opened his eyes, the fire had banked low in the fireplace, emitting so little heat. Or maybe it was the words I just heard that made it feel so cold in here suddenly. I looked at Nick and saw he wore a look of sheer astonishment that Kian’s words had held some ring of truth to them.

“Lycaon was never supposed to escape his prison, but there are those out there who could release him if they had wanted to, and it seems that that is the case here.”

 Galan’s voice was low, exasperated after the long-winded tale of Lycaon.

“But father, how could he possibly have returned if he was banished and hidden away from the world, no one is supposed to know where he is?”

Galan sighed, long and deep before answering,

“There are a few who know the location of the scroll, among other secrets of Lycaon.”

Here he looked right at me, and a shiver ran down my spine, it was almost as if he had directed the last part of his sentence at me.

“Well then, who are they and how do we find them to be sure he has escaped and it’s not just some random stranger coming in here to make waves of panic?” Nick asked, standing as he said it. Still looking at me Galan responded to his son,

“They are called the Council of Keepers, and I am one of them.”