Nicon

XXIV

                 

XXIV

THE LAST TIME she heard the words "we are the Shifters!" it resulted in an argument with Nicon and the revelation that he wanted to obliterate the human race.  As Elysie heard the familiar words again, she immediately rushed to her door with a newfound fear.  Her slightly shaking hand hovered over the doorknob and she heavily considered turning it and rushing out to see what the noise was, but instead she drew back and took a seat on the cool floor. 

Nicon had told her she wasn't allowed to leave because it would put her safety in jeopardy, and she obeyed, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. 

Instead, she let her mind drift to Syd, who hadn't visited her in two days, odd for the man who was usually the first face she saw in the morning.  Killian, on the other hand, Elysie knew would not be returning to the castle for quite some time.  She was not worried; for he had told her they would be able to catch up when he returned. 

She reached onto the floor space to her left and retrieved her leather bag, plucking the journal out with ease.  Elysie had forgotten what it felt like to draw.  She took out a pencil, one of the darker grey colors, and she opened the book, flicking through the many covered pages until she arrived at a pure white one.

            After waiting so long to sketch, somehow as Elysie held the pencil poised above the paper, she could not think of anything to draw.  She thought about drawing Syd, and settled for drawing the red wolf she met in the forest.

            A mere hour later and Elysie's fingertips were red and blotchy where she had held the pencil.  Eventually, as she regarded her finished sketch, she discovered that what had started out as a drawing of Syd morphed into one of the large brown wolf she knew as Killian.

            She closed her journal and lay back, resting her eyes, and vowed to give the drawing to Killian when he returned.

            "The Council is waiting in the conference room, Your Highness."

            Nicon frowned, giving Syd a dismissive nod of his head before walking off in the direction of the conference room.  He had not yet figured out how he would address the men after such devastation, but knew that more than half of them would be on his vengeful side.  While Nicon would never admit it aloud, Alpha Cayn had been right, the Shifters were better off making themselves known as the superior race.

            "As you are aware," Nicon spoke after quickly telling the men to be seated, "One of our finest men was killed last night.  The hunters successfully shipped their weaponry, and according to Alpha Troy," Nicon paused and made eye contact with the man, who was tapping his foot nervously, "The weaponry was more advanced than last time."

            "If I may, Your Highness, the shipments have also gotten much more frequent.  At this rate, I'll have to include extra patrols for the men."

            "Did you have extra patrols last night?"

            He was silent.

            "Include them in your routine.  We cannot afford more casualties." 

            Troy bowed his head.  "Yes, Your Highness."

            "Now.  Alpha Cayn, as you so-" he searched for a proper word, "-adamantly put it at the last council meeting, you believe the Shifters should come out of their hiding.  I would like to revisit that idea.  How exactly do you propose the Shifters approach this?"

            Cayn smiled.  "Well, Your Highness, I believe that evoking a bit of fear in the surrounding villages might contribute to our cause."

            "How, exactly, will murdering human villagers help in any way?" While Cayn's initial plan was not terrible, Nicon was having a hard time believing that making themselves known to the surrounding villages would help their cause.

            "They would fear us.  The fear would be enough to crush at least part of the hunter's rebellion.  If it stopped it in one place, it's bound to stop in another."

            Nicon sighed and leaned back in his chair, running his fingers over the indentation in the wooden table that had been the result of his uncontrolled anger.  "Are there any more propositions?"

            Nicon's gaze shifted over the men, none of whom spoke.

            "Very well.  A little terror might be good for the feeble creatures."