Blood Lineage

The Madame Shrue walked alone down the old park pathway. Her day hadn’t amounted to much on this particular afternoon. Her companion, Dubal, had taken to the seas once more. He’d be gone for months, leaving her to take care of the homestead. Dubal was a sea fairer by trade and a smuggler by choice. He would go on long journeys and not come back for months. Dubal had purchased Shrue from the sanctuary of the Dead-de-taunts; to have a person he could look to for comfort after the extended trips from the sea where no woman was allowed.

Shrue was an elegant woman. She had soft fair skin and glistening auburn hair. Eyes that dazzled like emeralds under the afternoon sun a gently sloping nose that complimented a doll like rounded face. She was a woman of average height, but her body was tone. Lean to years of training. She dressed in the traditional white gown that the dead-de-taunts wore to signify their status.

She was a woman of importance in her own right. Someone whose prestige had started out unknown, but she was given a role to play from the dead-de-taunt convents. As a dead-de-taunt she had been a metaphysical power from the gods that interacted with life, and once used those powers to carry out the will of the Queen. She had been soldier who could fight behind the scenes of politics and war while she was with the convent. After the purchasing contract with Dubal though, she had obtained a simpler life which conveniently happened to be a life she found relaxation in.

She smiled as she walked below the natural glory of the trees. It was early fall and the leaves had finally begun to turn to their rustic colors. The air smelled sweet and the sunlight felt warm to her skin. The glow of the outside world and peace it brought to the wandering spirit was a delightful feeling of serenity to the Madame. Each step granted her a renewing spiritual energy. It was a necessary venture for the dead-de-taunt; to depart from the world of man, even if momentarily, in order to experience the world outside of order. The further she moved into the abandoned trails of this once magnificent garden the more aware of the world she stepped through did she become.

As she explored further down into the wildness of the forests she began to notice the subtle changes that infringed upon the complete bliss of the setting. The wind had shifted directions and began to hold a bitter chilling bite as it crossed paths with the witch’s body. The leaves rustled high at the top of the trees at an uneasy rate forcing even the green living ends to fall to the ground beneath her feet, and all songs of the birds stopped abruptly leaving a disturbing silence to the forest.

Madame Shrue stood still. 'Something… something is not as should be here… '

The peace of the scenery had been grotesquely disturbed and as the changes within the natural settings began to intensify. Shrue realized that it was the very woods she walked through that were trying to reach out to her. There was a message to be conveyed through the disturbance of her walk. She closed her eyes and began to focus. She implemented the training given to her by the dead-de-taunts. The sounds shifted around her like unnatural sonic waves allowing her to feel her surroundings. Changes occurred within the wind, the leaves, the amount of sunlight being filtered through the tree canopy, the temperature, the sounds of wildlife, and then finally a singular pitch stood out from all the other disturbances. It was a low and terrified. Something out in the forest was scared… something that was not a natural animal of this forest.

Shrue opened her eyes and looked about her surroundings as her face expressed a withdrawn state of deep meditation thinking carefully on what she was experiencing. The Madame allowed her mind to further focus on the whimpering sound in an attempt to ascertain the location of the fearful creature. Somewhere past the rolling mounds, to the left back behind the thicket of the thorn trees, down past the dying creek trickling with a miniscule trace of water, and slightly to the right… she focused further on the noise allowing all sounds around her paint an image of definitive location. Ah… it’s in a den I believe… but what is this exotic disturbance that forces nature to speak so boldly?

The Madame picked up her skirts daring the action to venture off towards the unique discovery. She had determined she would pursue this alien noise that was intermittently toying with the peace around her. She playfully mused with the idea of what she could find. Perhaps a wild animal, an invasive species of sorts, or maybe a dangerous carnivore she would have to contend with? The Madame had a lingering desire for adventure since her time with Dubal had begun. She enjoyed the relaxation and comfort he brought to her, but even she could not turn down the chance to utilize her own power and seek something far more exhilarating than comfort. She had once been a force that aided the crown of the Queen, but after her purchase by the smuggler Dubal her life’s meaning seemed to become lost with the confined luxuries that man provided. Her life had become plain and now opportunity was presenting itself to her.

She released a slow and controlled exhale in order to ready her nerves for what lay ahead and began to move towards the weak whimpers of a creature unknown. The closer she drew nearer to the foreign sound realization of what lie ahead began to grow within her mind. The creature that lay ahead whining in such a fashion was far from being a vicious carnivore. This was a babe calling out for a mother. The Madame sighed with disappointment upon recognition; perhaps it would be best if she turned around. She had no use in pursuing a baby animal. Even now the ideas of finding this creature lead her mind to many dead end routes. It was doubtful Dubal would allow her to keep a wild beast, and even if she could its chances for survival without the natural mother slimmed. She stood at the point where her physical body was close to reaching the creature and confirming its state. She had never heard a noise like this from the native woodland life; this one was out of place. What could possibly be making such a noise?

I shall continue… she decided to allow her curiosity to overtake her. There had to be an end goal to this venture, and she was not ready to give up on the unknown just yet. The leaves began to fall at a faster rate from the trees as she stepped nearer to the source of the whimper. As she approached the sad noise ahead of the surrounding area seemed to give way to the approach of winter rather than the peaceful surroundings of fall. The leaves here had turned brown and fallen dried and dead. Here it was colder and frost could be seen upon the naked branches. Nature itself changed to announce the presence of this superstitious thing that the Madame was now approaching. It was like the woods were desperately trying to reach out to her, urging her not to turn back yet. There was a discovery to be made, something more powerful than a regular creature. This was a being that nature was influenced by.

She stepped out into a small opening and peered about the flat enclosure of the land. Here was a space where no life had grown and in this clearing was a small mound that contained a precarious opening. The Madame stepped closer, her white gown tugging at the fallen leaves. The branch nearby had a tuft of fur on it, wolves fur; this was indeed a den. The whimpering inside the den slowly turned from sweet cries out to a scared growl.

This is no regular wolf… the Madame thought. The growls were strange and foreign, not that of a normal forest dwelling wolf. There was a guttural cry in the scared tone of the creature within, something that almost sounded human. What sort of den had the Madame found? The woman bent over and peered inside the cove. It was a long narrow stretch but just big enough to fit the size of a human through. Two yellow eyes starred back and the growls deepened as the juvenile attempted to disguise itself as something more menacing.

Such a strange canine… It was a youngling, there was no doubt about that. Shrue’s had determined that the species within had cried out for its mother for long enough it was time the creature left the den. Madame Shrue desired to see what she had encountered.

Shrue stared into the den sweetening her voice making her vocal tones flow like honey and milk. There was calming effect on the babe inside the den as her voice progressed in like gentle music.

“Come on, come little one,” she stepped back from the entrance with a gentle look about her continence and tender smile placed across her lips. She cautiously grabbed at the stiletto blade tucked deep inside her skirts. It was time to discover the beast that resided within the den, to learn of the state it is in, and if necessary to kill it. Shrue would take every precaution necessary just in case the whimpering babe within turned out to be more danger than gentle.

The growling stopped and the yellow reflective eyes tilted. A small whimper escaped the creature’s lips, it was scared and anxious. The little one took a step forward, and then a step back apprehensive about how to approach the woman in white. This woman was so strange to the creature, it had never seen something so beautiful, nor heard something which sounded so mellifluous, but the woman was dangerous… the creature knew somehow that this one was dangerous.

The growls resumed from the creatures mouth towards the Madame. Shrue was dumbfounded. How had her voice not worked? The tone manipulation of her voice was one of the first gifts of magic every dead-de-taunt learned. It was a spell that influenced all manner of creatures. She was now more than ever ready to persuade the youngling inside to step out. Whatever was in there had a strong sense of will and an adept ability to sense more than generous inflections of the voice.

Perhaps now Shrue had discovered a creature that would make a proper pet for her. Her days were lonely she realized, and whatever rested inside was a strong and able being. The youngling could make a fine pet. The Madame realized her hand still held tight around the blade she had earlier grasped for.

In an attempt to resume the innocent expression she released her grasp on the weapon and took another step back, “Come little one,” her voice was like a fine silk. It was embedded in honeyed sweetness and flowed as though the simple command was rather the song of angels.

The small creature within was taken aback. It had not known such seeming kindness to be produced from another species before, or at least that was the illusion the spell the dead-de-taunt created. Her beauty grew to the creature and no longer was the woman before her a threat. The growls stopped and the creature inside the den found itself compelled to move to the woman. The babe took slow careful steps forward and exited its cover.

The Madame gasped in surprise nearly falling over herself as the animal inside emerged from the den. The child’s eyes were aglow, yellow and bright. Two little arms moved forward leading a small little body. The little girl’s long tangled hair covered her dirt laden body almost everywhere hiding the wolven face with a timid expression. The nose at the end of the snout sniffed cautiously at the air with eyes darting nervously around the surroundings and the Madame. The hair was a bright red, almost a stained rose red; a color that marked a cursed race. Down her eyes were two long tattoo’s that stretched down to the base of her cheeks.

The Madame exhaled, before her stood a daughter of one of the most infamous cursed races within the kingdom. The child was a wolf-like creature at first appearance but in a freakish transformation the babe gradually was turning her body so that it became more human in appearance in order to resemble the Madame. The snout retracted, and additional fur and hair seemed to dissolve off her body as she took the image of a person. This child couldn’t be more than four… perhaps she was three?

The little girl stretched out her tiny arm and a small hand tugged at the base of the woman’s gown with curious analysis. It was a strange sight to the child, this white gown. The woman in front of her had the same shape as her mother… and yet, this was not her mother.

“Mama…” the creature whimpered in words that were native to the tongue Shrue spoke.

Shrue’s heart was rendered helpless as her eyes took in the information around her. This was not the creature she had been prepared to find. This was a child, a child from one of the cursed kind. Furthermore this child had been abandoned to the elements. Either the woods desperately wanted Shrue to take this child from its body, or the spirits of the wild had sought to kill the child through the cold.

' How… how had she gotten this far?' Shrue pondered, knowing that cursed species like this generally lived near the Queen Persephone herself. Never had a one immigrated this far out into the south. Concern fell to the Madame.

'Where is the mother'… she stood and looked around cautiously.

She shut her eyes and allowed her training to consume her mind once more. She let the sounds of the forest swirl around her desperately searching for the one noise, the one scent, or the one vision that would tell her where the mother had gone. There was no other life in the nearby area that pronounced itself. She could not sense the mother and Shrue’s senses if used properly could extend for miles outward. The only trace of interaction Shrue could detect was the tie the child had… it was as though the child was sending out her own search by her smell and aura. She stretched out her sensory and physical self desperate to find her wolven mother, but could not. The mother was gone, and where she had gone was a mystery.

“Mama…” the child whimpered again. This time she looked away and crawled about the ground before Shrue.

“Mama…” the little one whimpered once more. Tears began to roll down her scared and grubby complexion. The Madame observed, the child’s weight was thin and worn. It had been awhile since she was fed, and this was due to her mother’s disappearance. She had heard rumors in the town of a hunting party to kill a wolf, perhaps the wolf was the child’s mother. The Madame outstretched her arms.

“Come…” her voice melodious like the haunting tune of an ancient music box. The child looked to the woman. Her wide yellow eyes were considering the strange person before her as she gazed on.

The Madame’s outstretched arms which looked warm and comforting. The weather had begun to change and the cold was bitter to the youngling’s skin. The small one cautiously approached the woman. Her body warmth almost seemed to give life to her, a warmth she had forgotten long since.

The child grabbed onto the Madame, holding her tight desperate to steal the heat emitted from the woman’s body. Shrue’s heart melted as she wrapped her arms around the small one.

“A wolfling…” she muttered.

Carefully she pulled back the red stained hair of the little girl who nuzzled down deep to the Madame’s chest. Shrue had found a wolfling, the cursed race of the Queen’s design. How the desert wolves had found their way into the southern forests made Shrue worried.

Shrue picked up the child gently holding her in her arms, “Little one,” she spoke.

The child raised her head; the strange woman in white, her voice was the endearing music the feral child’s ears were desperate to hear the words lulling her into a feeling of safety and comfort.

“What is your name little one,” like a song the woman’s voice came out.

It penetrated deep into the mind of the youngster. Her grasp on language was still new, neither her or her mother could speak with the common humans fluently, but when the woman sang it was almost if she understood perfectly the words being spoken.

“Uzumati…” The little one wrapped her arms around tighter to the woman’s embrace and cuddled in closer.

“Shhhh, my little Uzumati, it is time to sleep.” Carefully Shrue pet the top of the child’s head moving her hair back away from the girl’s face. Shrue decided she would keep this child in the moment that she had found her.

This was not a pet, but Shrue’s life was empty and alone… this child made her feel warm and secure once more. A child desperate for a mother brought comfort to the Madame. Slowly the Madame raised herself carrying the small creature in her arms and began to walk back to the mansion. She hummed a gentle song to the little girl in her arms. Shrue started with a song that was taught to her by the dead-de-taunts, a gentle hum that would put the child to sleep. Slowly but surely Uzumati dropped her boundaries and fell unconscious in the strange woman’s arms oblivious to the world around her. A new sense of security rose in wolf-like child; this was not her mother, but it felt comforting and safe much like her mother.

The Madame walked the two kilometers back with the child in her arms continuing the melodious spell given to her by the dead-de-taunts. Upon entering she called out for her servants. Dubal had provided very well for her, a full house complete with on call staff. Dubal had seen to it so she would always be comforted.

“Selia!” the woman shouted with smoothed tones so as not to awaken the young girl. “I have found something Selia.”

An aged scrawny woman in a nightgown peered from atop the stair well. Her skin was slightly wrinkled and yellowed as it is among all people of the Irit clan. Selia’s eyes widened when she saw the creature in her Mistress’s arms.

“A werewolf! A desert werewolf! Mistress Shrue… surely you would not…”

The Madame cut her off, “I do not care Selia. This is a child, Selia… I do not know what has happened to her mother… so I brought her home.”

Selia stepped down the stairs. “A wolf child my lady… you should have killed her, your training…”

“My training means nothing while I rot here alone without Dubal!” Madame Shrue snapped back.

The child’s eyes opened and stared at the woman holding her. Very quickly she began to realize she was not in the den her mother placed her in. The little girl began to struggle in the arms of the strange woman, but the voice began to sing before her resuming that tender tune. The child’s eyes grew heavy and dropped as she slipped back into a state of sleep. The Madame smiled as she clutched the child.

“She will have her own room,” she said proudly.

Selia stepped down and carefully examined the child. “And what will Dubal say about this?”

Shrue glared at the serving wench, “he will say nothing, because this is his daughter now.”

Selia gasped, “dead-de-taunts cannot have children! He will know this is not his child!”

The Madame dismissed Selia’s words, “these excuses you come up with do not matter to me. This girl shall be my daughter; in turn she shall be his daughter too. He cannot dismiss the few things that make me happy in this life. Come now Selia, the girl is filthy, we must clean her.”

Selia starred carefully at the child, “red hair my lady… the color of the rose petal… she is cursed…”

The Madame turned back to Selia, “and a few years ago you said I was cursed to Dubal when he brought home a dead-de-taunt. What does it matter if she is the daughter of a desert wolf?”

Selia swallowed hard. She felt as though her Madame was playing a very dangerous game.
“Madame… the wolves are dangerous… the moon controls their behavior.”

Shrue was growing tired with Selia, “we shall see what kind of wolf she is when the moon comes. A baby wolf is no different from the baby I carry in my arms now.”

Selia gulped, a wolf child could be very problematic for the household. There was no telling what could happen with a wolf and a witch in the home.

“What does Madame wish me to do first?” Selia asked cautiously to her Mistress.

The Madame smiled, glad that Selia was finally taking her orders. “First we clean her, I do not want this home to become as filthy as she is.”

Selia sighed… the Madame has no idea how to raise a child, much less a wolf child. Selia took the child from the Madame and carried the small thing up the stairs. Shrue stayed close on the heels of Selia. She had no idea what kind of human Selia was, would she would betray her and drown the wolfling?

They crossed to the bathroom and Selia set the child carefully back into the arms of the Madame, “I must get the water drawn. You should wake her before we bathe her.” Shrue nodded and Selia exited.

“Wake up little one,” again the sing-song voice penetrated deep into the young girls mind. She awoke to see the smiling face of her new keeper.
She did not quite understand what was going on. She looked around realizing once more she was not in her den and the dream like sequences occurring around her seemed to be more real than fiction. She started to struggle but Shrue sang calming the child.

“No, no, young one. It’s okay, you are safe.” Gently Shrue set the child on the ground of the bathing area. She smiled sweetly, “you are safe, you are with me.”

The child’s eyes widened, “where is Mama?” she spoke softly to her new Mistress.

The Madame’s smiled faded, “I don’t know…” she sang to the child, “but you are with me.”

The child’s distress seemed to melt away as she listened to the musical words. So long as she was near the woman in white she was comforted. She reached in and hugged the other woman.

“My name Uzumati…” she whispered into Shrue’s ear.

Shrue smiled, “My name is Amelia, Amelia Shrue.”

Uzumati let go and smiled at her. The child’s eyes were innocent; only her strange tattooed features and red hair now betrayed her race.

“I’m going to give you a chance your kind has never had,” the Madame sung, “I’m going to raise you as my own. As the child of a dead-de-taunt.”

The little girl smiled not understanding what was being said to her. She felt a much desired sense of comfort and after leaving the bitter cold den this was the safest she had felt since her mother disappeared. Selia came back to the bathing area interrupting the moment between Shrue and Uzumati. The child immediately fell to all fours and growled at the strange pale woman. Selia’s scent was strange, and it was dangerous since it contained the smell of humans. The Madame took notice of the instinctive behavior of the wolf child.

“No, no my dear. Selia,” Shrue pointed to the serving maid, “is a friend.”

The voice over powered the little ones instincts. “A friend…” her manner was childish and her language skills incomplete. But it appeared that she did understand her surroundings. There was hope in this child.

Selia drew the water and then stood to the side, “The bath is ready.”

“Thank you Selia,” the Madame spoke curtly to the woman. Her voice was not the same with the servant as it was with Uzumati. Her voice was not as sweet. Uzumati turned and glared at the woman as if she was an enemy; her eyes illuminated and dazzling with a yellow stare exuding contempt and misunderstanding.

Selia gulped, it would only take the full moon to turn her into a proper monster. Selia bowed to Shrue then exited the room happily. The Madame pointed to the bath and the child seemed to understand. She ran over to the tub and starred in.

“What…?” She asked looking questioningly at the Madame.

Shrue giggled, the child was curious. She carefully lifted the tiny body and put her into the water. The girl yelped and made a strange dog-like whine.

“It’s okay my little ‘Mati,” Shrue spoke sweetly to the girl, “it’s just a bath!”

Uzumati seemed content with the words the woman spoke to her. She let her body relax and allowed herself to slip into the warm water. Carefully the Madame worked at the girl’s tangled and filthy hair. She was determined to brush through the mess before her. Girls had come to the convent in worse condition than this, so to the Madame the wolfling should prove no challenge.

The girl allowed the other woman to groom her. It felt strange to let another touch her skin. Her mother was very protective of the girl; she never let another person approach. Perhaps this woman would be the same as her mother… though she did allow that Selia to come near. The child sat in silence carefully thinking to herself with about as much philosophical thought a child of four could manage.

Shrue took notice of her thought. This was no ordinary child. Here was one so young allowing herself to sit and contemplate even if for a brief period of time… there was more to her than what met the eye.

Selia returned back up to the bathroom, “I have discovered some clothes the girl can wear. Our butler, Theodon, had some extra clothes from his little girls. He donated them to you my lady.”

The Madame nodded, “Excellent. Thank you Selia. Go to my drawers and take enough money for the market. We will need to purchase a new wardrobe for the little darling. Theodon’s outfits shall make a necessary temporary fit, but not for future circumstances.”

Uzumati tilted her head back and smiled at the woman… at the Amelia Shrue.

The child’s gaze was that of pure innocence, and the Madame smiled back. The two seemed to share their own secret giggle in the moment. A joke between just the two of them for them to share.
Selia was surprised to see the reactions between the two of them. It was true, that the dead-de-taunts could never have children. The master of this home was almost never around. Perhaps the Madame’s loneliness would now dissolve. Perhaps the home would no longer be so cold. Selia bowed and exited the room. A new youngling in the household would do the home some good and bring joy back in. Perhaps… this was for the best. Only the moon would tell what kind of wolf the little child would be.