Dagen's POV
The valley was quiet, almost too quiet, as I walked through the maze of corpses sprawled across the ground. They lay round forming a circular and weird sort of pattern, as if they had been arranged there. Whoever had done this wanted these bodies found and I wondered why. Was it to make others scared? To run for their lives and be careful?
The air was thick with the stench of rot, forcing me to breathe in shallow, controlled gasps, keeping my face stoic.
I forced myself to look at the bodies intently; broken limbs and hollowed eye sockets that stared at the sky as if asking the heavens why they had been subjected to such fate.
It didn't seem right. What was the person's goal and why had they killed so many people? I knew there had been no war in the blood moon pack so what were the bodies for? Were they criminals?
Then again, why would there be so many criminals and why had their bodies been subjected to such a fate? I furrowed my eyebrows and shook my head, feeling my skin crawl.
The air that came with the wind sent shivers of disgust down my spine. I shook my head, standing at the top of the hill as I looked into the valley.
When I came to the blood moon pack to make certain findings, I did not expect this to be one of the findings I made.
“Alpha George,” One of my officers approached, eyes darting around, a tremor in his voice. I could tell he was rattled—his hand twitched slightly as he spoke.
“What is it?” I asked, trying not to let my impatience seep through. "What have you been able to gather?
He hesitated and then sighed. "Nothing much to be honest."
"What do you mean?"
"Whoever is responsible for this had this thing planned for a long time," he said, casting a glance back at the village. “The villages surrounding this valley… They were redesigned about five years ago."
"Oh?" I asked prodding for more information.
"Yes, Alpha Dagen. Whoever arranged the buildings created a pattern known as the sorcerer’s ring.”
"Are you sure about that?" I asked, a feeling of worry enveloping me. "Are you sure it was built with that intention?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Did you speak to the villagers about it?"
"I proved to be futile if I am being honest," he sighed. "The villagers barely spoke and they were quite hostile."
"Really?" I asked with a raise of my eyebrows.
He nodded. "I asked about the bodies as well. They seemed to know nothing and kept denying that there were bodies in the valley."
"That is odd," I mumbled, walking away with him. I was tired of such a stench. "But you are certain that it was arranged like a sorcerer's ring?"
"Very certain your majesty," he said with a sigh.
A sorcerer’s ring. The term echoed in my mind, a grim revelation of what I’d suspected. This wasn’t just a mass grave; it was a site of ritualistic horror. My eyes drifted to the dead bodies afar off, lying at the edge of their cursed land, expressions blank as if they’d long come to terms with this place. I wished I could speak with the dead. Then I'd be able to question them. To ask what they had done to deserve such. Who they had offended, but then again their silence answered so many questions.
Someone was using dark magic.
Hours later, I arrived at Alpha George’s palace, the chilling scene still clinging to my mind. The palace was immaculate, almost sterile, but it did nothing to quell the unease roiling within me. George greeted me in the grand foyer with a warm, practised smile, his son-in-law Harlin sat by his side, now serving as his Beta.
There were a couple of other lords with them. They sat at a round table with a feast in front of them, drinking and talking idly.
“Dagen,” George said as he sighted me, his voice too pleasant, as though we were merely old friends catching up. "I was not expecting you to see me so soon. How are things? Why don't you join us here and make merry? I shall ask the maids to get extra."
I didn’t return the greeting. I couldn’t banish the image of those bodies, those soulless stares looking up from that valley. “I am not here for merry-making and idle talk George," I said coldly.
"Are you sure about that?" He asked, lifting his glass of wine. "The wine here is quite splendid. Brewed from the finest grapes in my vineyard."
"No thank you."
"Give it a try," he said, still smiling.
I ignored his statement, fighting an eye roll. "I am here to summon you to the High Council,” I said, my voice cold, cutting through his empty warmth. “For—”
Before I could finish, George’s expression changed, and he raised a hand, his voice calm but firm. “Everyone, leave us,” he commanded. The lords stood up immediately, almost running away, leaving us in an uncomfortable silence. I wondered if that was how much they feared Alpha George. Was he that cruel towards his people?
Once we were alone, he smirked, his friendly demeanour disappearing immediately. His eyes glinted with that old arrogance that made me want to slam his head into a wall. “I see you didn’t take my offer seriously, Dagen.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “Go to hell, George. I am not interested in your offer. In fact, you actually have nothing to offer me."
"Is that so?" He asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
I reached into my coat, pulled out the official summons bearing the High Council’s seal and tossed it onto the cold marble floor between us. He stared at it, then back at me, that smirk still lingering. "Dagen, you are making a mistake."
“Continue as you wish,” I said, a cold certainty lacing my words. “But remember—there’s always a day of reckoning.”