Alphabet Lore Comic Novels & Stories

Nate asked, from his perch on a mossy log a few feet away from where I lay on the damp earth getting chillier by the second. We’d come out to the woods to do Arik’s ‘examination,’ because he claimed the trees would help. That sounded nuts to me, but Nate hadn’t argued—and Nate argued with everything. Arik turned and shot Nate a condescending, disgusted look down his nose. “Do you even know what a spleen is?” “It’s an organ that—does—it’s important to—of course I know what it does!” “No, you don’t. You don’t know what it is, where it is, or anything about it. I don’t know how a warlock can be so ignorant of basic anat—”

The other bit her lip, trying to hide a grin. “Oh my goddess,” one whispered. “Are you serious?” Alaric smiled wolfishly. “Do I look like someone who jokes about an Alpha’s private life? Spread it. Everywhere. Make it loud. Make it dirty.” They hesitated for a second, then one said, “We want more coins.” Alaric’s smirk didn’t falter. “Greedy little bitches.” He flipped them each another coin, the metal glinting under the moonlight. “Now go make history.”

The pleading tone of Arla’s voice, coupled with the sad look on her face, made him cave instantly. “Dude! You ruined the surprise,” whined Drew. “I believe it’s Alpha Dude, not just Dude,” replied Arla, poking her tongue out at Drew as Lorenzo laughed at her. “Well, Alpha Dude has one more thing to give you, before he and Beta Dude leave,” said Lorenzo, grinning. He walked over to their sweatshirts they’d left near a tree, and collected two textbooks, handing them to Arla. “I’m guessing you won’t find these two books here at witch school. One is on werewolf history and the other is on our laws and customs.”

Gregory said, nodding his head to me in respect, a secret smile hinting at the end of his lips, there was a joke I was missing I was sure of it. “Hey now, I think I’ve done a pretty damned excellent job if I do say so myself.” Grumbled Alaric, shoving Gregory, all three Amethyst warriors began to laugh at Alaric’s expense, but like any good sport, he grinned and chuckled along with his warriors.

The air smelled of dust and old paper. “So, I did a bit of digging using the names you provided. It was hard, but I remembered reading a bit about him years ago,” she said, sliding a picture toward me. It was a drawing in a slightly cartoonish, old-fashioned font, but the distinguishing features were unmistakable. The dark blonde hair, the piercing green eyes. “Let me introduce you to King Alaric Anjou the Third. The King of all humans, werewolves, and magical creatures alike.”

“You dare chain the High Lady? The sister of the Alpha of the White Moon Pack? I order you to release me this second!” Instead of flinching, Alaric slowly crouched low, bringing himself down to my level. I swallowed hard, pressing my back as far against the wall as I could go, but he was already right there, our faces only inches apart. His hand shot out, his fingers locking firmly around my chin. A dark smirk tugged at his lips. “And do you know who I am, Liora?” I could only swallow, my chest heaving as pure terror seized my throat. I simply nodded.

Relief rushed through me as the prospect of a peaceful future hit me. "I won’t say thank you for your help." Arlo pointed out. "Now hold out your arm." Obeying his command, I held up my arm and took in the arcana that had one-third of it missing. "You sure you don’t want to take advantage of the remaining time?" "No." "Then I wish you the best." Lowering my gaze, I watched as Arlo stuck his nail into the end of the arcana, making it start to glow. As he spoke in a strange tongue, it began to slowly fade along with the world around me until all that was left was darkness.

LYRA: The expressions Alpha Jerome and Dad had when I mentioned Aldric suggest they know something. Maybe Aldric did not tell me the full story. There is more to that tomb than just that dagger and the pack. "...and I also saw a tall stone arch. Above it, letters were written, 'The Hollow Dome,'" I said. "Now it all makes sense," Alpha Jerome said, leaning forward, his arms resting on the table. "Aldric was the Alpha of the Redveil Pack."

He was trying to read the ancient Runes, his small brow furrowed in frustration. "Those are difficult even for the High Priests, Arlo," I said softly, leaning against the doorframe. "I have a book in my office, a human translation of the lunar cycles. It makes the math much easier." Arlo didn't look up. He traced a claw, sharp and new, over the parchment. "Ivy says human books are full of lies. She says humans use math because they don't have instinct. She says you're trying to make me 'slow' like you."

“You don’t know that yet either.” He didn’t argue that one. We kept searching in silence after that, the only sound the scrape of old spines against old wood and the occasional cough from disturbed dust, until my hand landed on one bound in cracked white leather, thinner than the rest, tucked sideways behind books twice its size like someone had wanted it hidden rather than shelved. “Alaric.” He crossed the room before I finished saying his name. The cover bore no title, only a wolf stamped into the white leather, its edges worn smooth by generations of hands. I opened it on the small reading table between us, and the first page nearly stopped my heart.