Paul Willson Fantasy

When the Greeks were young and the gods still walked the earth, an old wolf woke shivering in the cold mountain air as the winter sun rose in the blue sky with the taste of blood in his mouth and the carcass of a deer next to him.

The wolf rose off the freezing ground and walked to the nearby lake and began to lick the cold lake water. He stopped and studied his reflection before giving a great howl in anguish which echoed across the mountains.

The wolf was once a human called Lycos. As a young man, he hunted in these same mountains as he did now. He was a talented tracker and excelled with his bow. His prey never suffered an agonising death for his aim was true.

Sadly, Lycos’s talents as a hunter didn’t bring him humility and he often told those in his village and beyond that he was the king of the mountains and there was none who could match his skill in the hunt, not even the goddess Artemis herself. He claimed he smelt his prey, rather than track it.

One day as he hunted, he brought down a magnificent stag. However, as soon as his arrow landed in the stag another arrow landed just below his own. When he approached the fallen stag a young woman appeared from the trees.

“The kill is mine,” Lycos told her, smugly. “My arrow landed before yours.”

“This time, but in the next it will be mine,” the woman told him archly. “I am a skilled tracker.”

Lycos appraised the woman. She was beautiful yet powerful and carried an equally beautiful and powerful golden bow. It was the first time anyone had come close to matching his prowess on the hunt.

“That maybe so but I do not track my kill, I can smell it like the wolf. No one can best me on the hunt, not even Artemis herself except maybe the wolf,” he bragged in reply.

The young woman became angry and said to Lycos,

“You are foolish and arrogant. Let us see if you do indeed hunt better as a wolf. In the week when the moon is full, you will become a wolf. Let us see if you run faster and track your prey quicker than as a human.”

Lycos laughed derisorily at the young woman and bragged,

“If became a wolf, I would be the greatest wolf and greatest hunter since before the gods.”

“Then at the next full moon, we will compete in the hunt to see who is the better hunter, you a wolf or me, a goddess,” she said. As she disappeared into the trees she continued, “Be warned, should you sire a wolf-child when in wolf form, you will remain in wolf form.”

Lycos laughed again and drew his knife to butcher the stag.

On the first night of the next full moon Lycos dreamt that he was a wolf running through the mountains, his keen eyes seeing clearly in the night and the scent of his prey strong in his nostrils. Lycos killed his prey, a mountain goat with his strong jaws. As he feasted upon the goat, Lycos saw the young woman approach,

“You beat me once again,” she smiled knowingly. “Until the next full moon, farewell,” and she disappeared once more.

The following morning, Lycos lay naked on the cool grass of the mountain, the goat’s carcass next to him and the taste of blood was in his mouth. He returned to his village confused,

“Lycos, thank the gods you are safe. We feared that you had been taken away by the wolf which entered the village last night,” a friend said to him with relief

“A wolf?” Lycos asked.

“Yes, a large wolf. As big as a man.”

For the rest of the week of the full moon Lycos woke each morning naked in the mountains with an animal carcass next to him after having the same dream where he hunted as a wolf. Then when the full moon waned into three quarters the dreams stopped.

Lycos was fearful, the dream felt too real but the dream returned in the next full moon as did waking naked in the mountains in the morning with the taste of blood in his mouth and an animal carcass next to him.

One full moon Lycos passed a lake and saw his reflection. He saw what he knew was in his heart. He saw a large wolf looking back at him. Stories began in the villages of a large wolf in the mountains, as fast as the wind and as strong as the gods. The king of the mountains they called him and they prayed to Artemis to keep them safe.

The seasons passed and each full moon Lycos became a wolf. When spring came to the mountains Lycos saw her. She was beautiful. Her eyes shone yellow and her fur glistened in the moonlight. She was the perfect she-wolf, strong and lean. They mated by the lake and he howled in triumph as they did so. The king had his queen.

At every full moon Lycos met his pregnant queen and he would hunt for her and his unborn wolf-child.

During the end of summer full moon, before the leaves turned colour, Lycos hurried into the mountains for he knew it was time. He found his queen with the young woman he met those months ago, helping his queen give birth to a wolf-child. The woman saw Lycos and said,

“I warned you, if you sired a wolf-child you would remain a wolf.”

“Who are you?” Lycos asked.

“I am Artemis,” she told him. “You are indeed a greater hunter than me but no human can be greater than a god so you must remain a wolf.”

Lycos turned from the lake and returned to his queen. They were much older now but he was still the king of the mountains.