Lupus Princeps

 1.0 -The Golden Reckoning.

One Month Before The Escape

NYMERIA OMARI STOOD with her head low but her spirits high, her shoulders slightly hunched and her palms scarred, calloused and rough. She held half the weight of her mother's pregnant body with a protective arm and held her younger sister's soft, pudgy hand in the other. 

Nymeria's mother was heavy with exhaustion, yet the sun had only peaked through the horizon and work was yet to begin. But in their society, today was a day of celebration, the Dividing Ceremony. In which children, aged seven, would be segregated into their working Divisions.

Their society's leader born from many generations of Male leadership and injustice, Commander Don, stood on a podium next to the Reckoning Post. Fresh stains of blood still clung to the wooden floorboards, like a carpet of bloodied reminders. 

He stood with The Males behind him, all lined up in a courtly manner reeking of untold punishments and itching for another excuse to use the Reckoning Post and kill another for their crimes.

"Braxton Moira," The Commander spoke, "Army Division."

Nymeria had been stood there for hours now. Gripping her sister's hand like sand ready to pass through her fingers. It was almost her time.

A young Male, no younger than seven; that was the age everyone was placed into their divisions, shouts to The Males in joy. Nymeria could not hide the plain disgust on her face. 

He stomped past the Reckoning Post and almost slipped on the wet blood but caught himself in time to shake Commander Don's hand and take his position next to The Males behind him. Mimicking their stance with an abundance of pride.

Nymeria felt a tug on her palm, small and dainty, she glanced down at her younger sister, Amara. Nymeria glared at her in a warning to silence her curiosity. 

"Ny, why are no boys put in the fields?" Nymeria's sister asks; her voice a squeaky whisper compared to the crowds of cheering. 

"There are no Males in the fields." Came Nymeria's quick answer, she had learned to whisper without as sound, a skill she would eagerly teach her sister. She quickly looked back to the podium but was careful to keep her eyes low. She expected Amara to do the same.

A few more names were called, all Males, before the moment Nymeria was dreading.

Her mother's head lifted off Nymeria's shoulder, as the realisation dawned on her, too. She clutched the pregnant mound of her belly and waited.

Nymeria looked down at her younger sister's hand in her own and realised it would be the last time her tiny, pudgy hands would remain polished, pure and untouched. She resisted the urge to bring Amara's hand to her chest and never let it go.

"Amara Omari," The Commander called, presenting with a slacked sigh and disinterested mumble, Amara tightened her hold on Nymeria and smiled up to her. 

For the days leading up to the Dividing Ceremony, Amara's eyes were light and joyful in her belief that she would be placed in the Medical Division. 

It began with rescuing small honey bees that collapsed outside the women's camp and nursing them to health with the little amount of sugar and water they were rationed. Amara was delighted to believe that one day she would be placed in the Medical Division. A Division for doctors, medics and surgeons. 

But that Division was for The Males.

"Agricultural Division."

Amara's hand fell from Nymeria's and their pregnant mother let out a sigh. Amara tucked in her shirt at the back, which had unravelled slightly as she walked up to the podium, with notably less enthusiasm as she had when arriving at the ceremony, hours before. 

She became slightly unnerved and paused at the steps and being unusually short for a seven-year-old, mainly through the malnourishment of the little rationings they were given, Amara wasn't previously able to see the wet stains of blood below the Reckoning Post from her place in the crowd. She stared at it for a second or two, before throwing her eyes towards Nymeria, seeking reassurance.

Nymeria met her stare with a nod of encouragement and a small smile of reassurance, which was enough for her younger sister. Amara stepped through the blood with her eyes downcast, as all the women and girls were taught and placed her dainty hand around the Commander.

Commander Don leaned down towards Amara, causing Nymeria's grip on her mother to tighten. The crowds were silenced with such a shocking display, not a inhale, not an exhale, the women were frozen to the ground. 

Amara's eyes were bright and invincible, as she whispered into their Commander's ear without any concern. Not knowing any better.

"Commander, may I be placed in the Medical Division, please?"

It was too quiet for the crowd to hear. A question that unknowingly challenged the authority of their entire society. Amara did not know the unjust authority of the Males, she did not know that it was a woman's God-given right to serve silently. No woman or girl had ever be placed in the Medical Division since the uprising, generations ago.

Because women were not allowed a voice.

Commander Don smiled, tightly. Looking back up to the crowd, all holding a steady breath and then back down to the bold yet small, black girl in front of him. 

He knew what to do with her. For a threat to Male divine authority would be met with an iron fist.

He whispered, patting her roughly on the shoulders. "You'll enjoy the Golden Fields."

Confused but satisfied with the Commander's answer, Amara retracted her pudgy hand from his and then exited off the stage rejoining Nymeria and their mother. 

The Dividing Ceremony ended with all the female children being placed into the Agricultural Division and all the Males being placed into the Army, Law and Medical Divisions.

Once a month, children that had recently turned seven were sectioned into the Divisions of their society and in the Agricultural Division, work placements in the agricultural fields were switched every month also. Three fields, all differing in the extent of labour needed to harvest.

It was how their society thrived and how the human race rose like a phoenix from the ashes of destruction, millenniums ago. Kept safe from the outside atrocities by the barbed, concrete and mighty walls surrounding them. The Divisions kept their society thriving.

The young Males separated into a group, with the females in another. Segregated by a group of uniformed Army Males in a line. They began sectioning and dividing the women.

"On the left, are the females working in the Tall fields,"

The Tall fields, in comparison to the other crops to harvest, were generally the easiest of the fields. It consisted of tall crops of corn and a few rows of wheat, barley and oat plants. It was no surprise that Nymeria's mother, being 7 months along, would be placed there.

Subsequently, this was where the 'less-abled' women were placed. Such as Nymeria's mother where being pregnant was seen as a disability within their society, it altered the ability and overall collection count of harvest and therefore, the Tall fields contained the elderly and pregnant women.

"in the middle, the women working in the Material fields," The uniformed Male continued, reading from a sheet of paper. 

Nymeria could only pray that Amara would be placed in this field. Nymeria knew first hand of the Males ruthlessness and disregard of any notion towards unjustified cruelty; younger children could be placed in either field remaining, Material or Golden, but never the Tall fields. 

Nymeria waited and waited to hear Amara's name being called into the Material fields, despite it being a gruelling task of picking cotton and ripping bark off the oak trees, she could trust the women in the fields to take care of her young Amara and show kindness. Perhaps even share the count of their harvest with her so Amara's young hands would remain soft and pudgy.

And yet, with her prayers remaining unanswered, and Nymeria's name being thrown into the Material fields and not Amara's, Nymeria slacked against the woman beside her. Sinking into the reality of their harsh truth, that no child would ever be spared.

"and to the right, the women working in the Golden Fields."

Silence ensued for the next reading of names because their society, the word 'Golden' was synonymous with death. 

Nymeria stole a glance at her mother, who had her head buried in the crooks of her hands and was being held up by the two elderly women beside her. Almost falling into a pit of despair. 

The air was knocked out of her lungs. Suffocating any last wisp of air she had. She gasped for more. Nymeria kept her eyes focused on the group of remaining women yet to be placed, all of them except Amara, knowing of the hard labour and deadly conditions of the Golden Fields.

She stared long and hard at the group of women and children, yet none seemed to meet her pleading eyes. All aware of the hardship and suffering they would inevitably encounter.

She pushed away the crawling urge to scream at the women; beg them to keep watch over young Amara, make sure Amara would never stray from their sight. Or warn her of the starving temptation to eat the poisonous black seed pods as many children always did when placed in the Golden Fields.

Nymeria's breath stunted, grabbing a hold of her throat and choking her. Many of the women surrounding her placed a light touch of reassurance on her shoulders. 

A gentle touch, saying 'We are here. We understand.' It was more comfort than she needed. She could only pray the women working with Amara would do the same.

After the uniformed Males left the area and began escorting the women to the fields, Nymeria took her chance at barging past the women around her in an attempt to reach the group venturing to the Golden Fields. 

She couldn't shout, that would alert the Males of her current anxiety and she would be labelled as an easy target. She was not an easy target.

Just as her hand almost brushed the last women of the group, she was stopped.

A shadow of darkness swept over the sunlight, blocking her vision of the woman with instead a hulk of muscles. 

She cast her eyes down immediately. 

"What's got you in such a rush, Lil' Lady?" 

One of the uniformed Males stood in her path. Even if she was afraid, so afraid her heart burned with rigorous ferocity, Nymeria would not let it show on her face. Yet her eyelids twitched, steadying her face for impact. 

One of the females, she did not know her name, next to Nymeria placed a gentle hand on the inside of her forearm. A reminder that she was not alone. A reminder was all she needed to keep her voice steady and straight. 

"Nothing, sir." 

At the sound of her voice, his veined, muscular hand grappled her chin. Squeezing the hollows of her cheeks and bruising the frail bone of her jaw, so tight Nymeria couldn't suppress the quiet whimper from her voice. 

His shoulders squared, itching for any sign of retaliation, wishing for another celebratory reckoning. He would get no response from Nymeria. 

"Damn right," He spat, releasing her jaw with a victorious smirk, "get to your field."

The female next to her wasted no time in pulling Nymeria away from the situation, not without Nymeria first receiving a hard slap to her backside. She paid no mind to it.

 Arriving at the rows of cotton plants and sensing the unwavering eyes of the armed Males, Nymeria and the other females got to work immediately.

Nymeria turned to the woman who pulled her away, partially blinded by the beating sunlight and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

"No thanks needed." The woman threw her a small and subtle smile, keeping her voice as quiet as the breeze of wind, "Amara will be just fine." 

It wasn't a surprise to Nymeria that the woman knew of her sister. All the women that had encountered Amara could not help but love her. Her gentle smile and willingness to lend a helping hand in cooking, sewing and cleaning had won the hearts of all the women in her camp. 

Such an insignificant sentence had lessened Nymeria's worries. The women of their society loved Amara. There was no sense in worrying.

Nymeria returned a fleeting smile her way and went back to harvesting with much more vigour than before. 

Thirty minutes later, with the sun still beating down her back, Nymeria's mind wandered to her mother. Being seven months pregnant and having no strength to even stand up in the mornings without Nymeria there to hold her up, Nymeria could only pray that her mother was still stood on her own two feet.

A wave of heat washed over Nymeria and lightheadedness soon followed. She had passed up her rationing for the morning and instead gave it to her mother, an action she was regretting now. 

Almost as if sensing Nymeria's willpower lessening, the woman whispered to her once more.

"Come on, girl. Don't go sleeping on me now." She felt a hand grasp her own, "We can do this, only a few more hours left now."

She could feel her knees become weaker and leaned into the support of the woman's body. "I can't."

Nausea crept its way into her throat, threatening to empty the last remaining drop of water she had in her system. Sweat glistened on her forehead, only reminding Nymeria of the burning heat of the sun. Her fingers leaked red blood through the scratches of the cotton boll, lint sticking like residue to her cuticles. 

The woman shrugged off her headscarf and wrapped it around Nymeria's forehead. "You'll be okay. It's gonna be okay. I need you to stay standing up."

Nymeria worried for the commotion she was causing, it was likely to draw the Male's attention sooner than later. She had never had a dizzy spell this bad before and she wondered if the added stress of the ceremony and deep concern for her family drove her mind and body to exhaustion. 

Just as her feet gave way and her knees collided with the scorching dirt, catching the attention of the nearest armed Male, a gong was sounded.

The sound echoing 'death' to all ears that heard it. 

It was the sound of a Reckoning. 

Nymeria laid motionless on the ground. The only reminder that she was alive being the pounding of her heart in perfect time to the clamours of the gong.

The woman pulled Nymeria to her feet, unsteady and wobbling, she ushered her away from the picking fields and towards the Reckoning Post. Just as the armed Male instructed them. 

A Reckoning was a time of celebration, meant to purify their society of the bad omens, diseases and the criminals of their community. A means of purification and public murder. 

Witnessed by the whole community to watch, the Reckonings were reminders to all, that the Commander controls their society and any refusal or insubordination of his divine command would be met with an iron fist and a wooden post.

On their walk towards the Reckoning Post, the Males hollered and cheered. Unruly excitement burst throughout the Males for a chance to abandon their morals and cleanse the society. Mostly a chance to abandon their work and witness a brutal act of violence. 

Nymeria spotted her mother, with tinges of red on her cheeks, the harsh beating of the sun had gotten the best of her. Nymeria's thoughts were of her family only, wishing to protect Amara from the horror she was about to witness.

With the woman holding her steady and on her own two feet, Nymeria began filtering her eyes through the crowd of Males, only a few women were present as many were instructed to take the younger children inside, being under the age of seven, no child was allowed to witness a Reckoning until coming of age. 

This would be Amara's first look at the truth of their society. The horror. The anguish. The unjust murder. This was what the human race had become. 

Monsters.

Nymeria would do everything and anything to keep Amara's pure eyes away from the atrocity. Keep her believing that in their society the Males and the women were considered equals, that the walls were placed to save them, not trap them. 

A part of Nymeria, some part deep down, wished that her mother would have done the same for her. Kept her away from the truth of her society. Kept her innocence intact. 

She searched, gripping the arm of the woman next to her in a tight grip, hard enough to bruise. If it did hurt the woman, she didn't show it. The woman was taller than Nymeria and focused her eyes onto the Reckoning stage. 

Then came the scream of complete anguish. Utterly terrifying and shocked Nymeria to her core, she watched as a group of uniformed Males surrounded a fallen woman, crouched low to the ground she could only assume it was a relative of those being Reckoned. 

She didn't want to hear another scream, but she was forced to listen as the crowd went silent and her mind went blank. 

Any sign of disrespect or plain disagreement to those being Reckoned was a crime in itself, so when the uniformed Males began whipping the fallen woman in the crowd, Nymeria was not surprised. 

"Stop! Stop! She's pregnant!"

Nymeria automatically snapped her head over to the crowded woman, a gate of emotions had opened with a gut-wrenching realisation. 

The whipped, fallen woman was her mother. 

All the blood drained from her face. Her heart plummetted to the bottom of her stomach. Dread locked her stomach in a tight fist and unease blossomed within the aching desperation of her twitching hands, blossoming like the floor of golden flowers upon the Reckoning stage. 

The crowd went silent, even some of the Males, as it always did when a child was to be Reckoned. 

Even the fragrant golden laburnum could not veil the coppered scent of blood or the bitter taste of black seed pods that mocked Nymeria's tongue. 

Chained to the Reckoning Post, convulsing and foaming from the mouth, was her little Amara.

"Today shall be a day of Reckoning!" The Commander shouted, "A reminder to all, that no man, woman or child will ever steal from our society! Steal from our community! Steal from our freedom and safety!"

Commander Don paused, already sweating from stepping beyond the shade of his house for less than a minute.

"Our society was built from the dust of immoral humanity and now we flourish! Safe from the vile creatures beyond the walls! And when a person challenges our safety, challenges our resources, challenges our rules there will be consequences! There will be a Reckoning!"

He elicits cheers from the Males, rilling them up into a mass of sickly physical excitement. The Males push up against the stage, shouting words of vulgarity to young Amara and cheer Commander Don on. The women stood back. Silent and scared.

The woman next to Nymeria held her up, slinging an arm across her waist, carrying the dead weight of Nymeria's defeated body. A silent action keeping her from making a single noise. 

Nymeria's eyes refused to leave Amara's struggle, following the twitching of her muscles, the clenched fist sprouting black and gold and the smear of poisonous black seed pods stuck to the top of her foaming mouth. 

Black, cold betrayal settled in Nymeria's veins. These women did not care for Amara. They did not watch over her. Nor did they care for her death. The silence was out of self-preservation, not respect. A selfish fear for their own safety.

Nymeria would have collapsed to the ground, suffering the same fate as her mother if it had not been for the woman holding her weight as if it were her own. The woman gripped Nymeria's head, forcing it into her shoulder and pulling her eyes away from the Reckoning Stage. 

The crack of a whip sounded through the air. Followed by a muffled shriek.

"No! No! Please! Help!" Amara's strangled, gurgling cries did nothing but please the Commander. "Stop!"

The woman pressed her hands over Nymeria's mouth in a fruitless effort to stop the constricted sobs from reaching the ears of the Males surrounding them. 

"Momma! Momma! Nymer-"

Another whip sliced through the air. Short and quick. 

Then there was only silence within the Golden Reckoning.  

(3531 Words)

A/N

Holy Moly! I can't even believe I've actually got a new book out, it feels surreal. 

Anyways, I hope you have all enjoyed the first chapter, I've had it written and hidden away for a very long time now. Just for clarity, it is unedited. Let me know of any mistakes I've made as well! 

So as you know by the description this is my first werewolf book! I'm quite nervous going into it so I would really appreciate your thoughts on this chapter! Let me know what you think! 

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