As I sat on the stone carved throne, dust raised from the parched earth, waltzing lazily in the sweltering air. The villagers moved around in a hectic manner and the blistering light arrows stabbed my skin, making me feel like a piece of cutlet.

According to the beliefs of the Lykans, as they called themselves, before a vessel would be able to be reborn, flourish fully and fulfill its duties, offering rituals had to take place. Such rituals would awaken the godly powers that a vessel possess.

That day was one of those days. A day for celebration and hope.

Strangely enough, despite the obvious poor condition these people lived in due to the curse set upon them, since I arrived, I had been taken care of like royalty, which would make sense given their delusional belief that I was some kind of deity who'd bring them salvation.

I was not.

I had given up on convincing them otherwise. At least I could survive.

But looking back at everything now, I couldn't say the same for the rest of the people living there. Daily I would see men, women and children struggle to make it to the next day.

According to Annia, the only person who I was able to interact without a headache, aside from the obnoxious Crassus, the place had been deprived of any rain for eighty six full moons, which for any pack would have been deadly. Wherever the Nest moved, misfortune soon followed.

That's when it occurred to me. Those people were dying. Slowly but surely. Some pack members already died from hunger or lack of water. They would all perish, sooner or later.

They were desperate.

But so was I.

I can still recall their faces, slim and drained of life. Their bodies fragile and malnourished. But strangely, these people that one would expect to see give up on themselves, were far from helpless.

One could see it in their eyes.

Hope.

Nietzsche said that sometimes people don't want to hear the truth because they don't want their illusions destroyed. I, who they thought of as a saviour, would be the one to make their hope disappear.

But was anyone ready for that? Was I?

The village square was out of the ordinary that day. Beautifully handmade dried leaf decorations were placed, both on the ground, forming a carpet pathway, at the entrance of each residence, and around the throne.

Youngsters sprinted around energetically between the busy adults that rushed around carrying filled baskets with their most treasured possessions.

"...and then, I will marry a beautiful Luna and I'll be the happiest Lykan in the pa-" spoke the brown-haired boy that I met the very first night, as he bumped into me.

His big ears twitched as he stood before me, his shaggy tail tucked between his legs. He swallowed nervously, his scraggy ribcage moving up and down rapidly, as if I were the one with my fangs out, and not him.

"You will get us all in trouble again, Kore," the scrawny younger girl whispered pulling him by the back of his brownish top. "You know we're not supposed to be hanging around here."

At that point, all the color had left the boy's face, his thin lips trembling and his heavy breathing could be heard from a mile away.

For a brief moment I found it amusing how much of a change in attitude he had since we first met. If the first night he would chase me around, soon after, she started avoiding even the touch of my gaze.

"Are you alright?" I asked, reaching out to him.

His eyes darted around quickly as his short fangs dug into his lower lip, and I could have sworn that he would start tearing up at any given moment.

"Kore!" a deep voice called from the other side, from the entrance of the Nest. "Come and help me carry these."

Rexsus, who was carrying what looked like a butchered small boar on his shoulder, and some dried-up wood on the other, threw Kore a glance which made the boy's expression change instantly.

The older man's locks were pinned away from his face, which was poorly shaved but just enough to reveal a strong jawline. And unusual look for him. Blood dripped from the dead animal's severed jugular, onto his bare chest, and onto the ground.

"I'm coming!" Kore's voice cracked awkwardly as he sprinted in Rexsus' direction, thankful for the man's intervention.

As the young guy took the wood from the man's tight grip, Rexsus locked eyes with me, and for a moment, I felt like it was just me and him standing there.

I wondered if he could sense my heart beating in my chest, and my mind thought of how easily it would have been to walk up to him, to talk to him. I wanted to. But I knew it was irrational.

"Thank you," I mumbled under my breath as I offered him a smiled, but I knew I wasn't going to get any response.

His eyes soon drifted away from me, and I was back to being invisible.

"Should I walk you through what will happen once more?" said Annia as she pushed aside the curtain behind me to exit the abode.

In her hands she held a big, tattered and ragged book clothbound in shabby leather. She undid the tie that held it together, and quickly skimmed through the worn-out pages.

"The ceremony starts with the auspicious fertility dance," I recalled, and my mind wondered to the conversation we had the night before, "and if they invite me to dance, I mustn't refuse."

I was made to wear a piece of crafted clothing made out of alder leaves, which were said to symbolise fertility and rebirth. The leaves felt itchy against my skin, and my bare feet were not allowed to touch the ground, which they didn't since the moment I was seated on the throne that very morning.

"Following that, there will be an offering ceremony..." I added, scratching my arm.

"Remember, you must not omit anything in order for this to work," she said taking one of the pieces of paper out of the book, and closing it carefully.

She opened her bag, and rummaged around for a little while, only to pull out a small wooden bowl.

Annia bent down to where the fire was usually made each night, and grabbed a handful of ashes, which she then carefully placed into the bowl. She then gashed her palm, letting blood fall onto the ashes as she stirred them with her fingers.

I felt my stomach turn.

"What is next?" she asked her yellow gaze moving from me and back to the piece of paper that had all kinds of scribbles on it.

She moved closer to me and took my hands into hers.

"After the offering ceremony ends, I am to bathe three times in Malum during Selenelion. It should be easy and done with."

Annia frowned at my remark, and then dipping her fingers in the mixture she just created, she started to draw against my skin. She painted the bridge of my feet, my hands, my cheeks, and then finished off with my forehead. She brushed symbols which I didn't know the meaning of at the time.

Crescent moon. Full moon. And dark moon. Fertility symbols she told me were the representation of prosperity.

I now know better.

My skin felt icky from the slimy sensation, which made the baby hairs on my neck stand up.

When she finally stopped frowning, she looked back at me, and with a sigh exclaimed:

"It is not that simple," she warned me. "First of all, you mustn't look back..." Pausing she quickly threw a glance at the gates of the nest.

"Selenelion is a menacing period, one's consciousness becomes fluid, fragile and mendable during that period. And when in contact with the elements, one's mind and soul will be at their most vulnerable state."

She then slowly placed her left hand over mine and her right one over my face.

Shivers rushed through my spine as she started to chant, the rest of my body went numb, and my hands and head burned against her touch, as if under hot iron.

"Nascimur lunae, cinere et sanguine," she incanted her eyes closed shut. "Omnes una manet nox. Per hoc renati sumus," she continued. "Per hoc salvamur."

I felt the fiery sensation engraving beneath my skin, and I desperately wanted to shove her off. Yet, I couldn't move my body.

In that moment I was convinced that my skin would melt off.

"Nascimur lunae, cinere et sanguine." She chanted for the third time. "Omnes una manet nox. Per hoc renati sumus. Per hoc salvamur."

By the time she finished, my body felt cold all over, and I pulled my hand away from her grip. Tears spilled down my cheeks, washing away the ashy mixture, leaving only burn like marks engraved behind.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," she confessed, fidgeting with her hands. "I mean you no harm, truly..."

"That's what you all keep saying since you brought me here. But it's not the truth," I cried. "...is it?"

I would have lied if I said that nothing bothered me. But would that change anything?

I wanted to leave. I wanted to run away.

"Will you let me go back after all this is done?" I hesitantly asked her, as she let out a small whisper in the direction of the bowl which made the mixture immediately catch on fire, consuming what was left.

Annia looked at the wound on her hand, and then back at me, but she didn't answer my question.