Inside the darkness of the closet, Cora's imagination ran wild with harrowing images of an injured Ben, lying somewhere in the dark while she hid inside of a wall. All to protect her identity. In the span of seconds, she considered all of her options -- she either saved her brother, or herself.

It didn't take long to come to her conclusion.

Cora opened the door after trying desperately to find the latch that would release it, and took a few steps forward on the old wood that groaned beneath her. She straightened her back and eyed the scene, breathing heavily. There were six or so middle-aged men with torches, lanterns, weapons, and all wearing cloaks. Hilda groaned and looked away in dread when she realized what Cora was doing, the light from her lantern casting ominous shadows on the witch.

The man in the very front of the group narrowed his only eye at Hilda, a worn leather eye-patch covering the other, and then looked at Cora with more focus as she stood there, waiting. He squinted. "Hold on" —he came over to Cora, and nearly dropped his lantern— "No..."

"What is it?" another asked as he took a few steps into the home, his boots heavy on the wood. "Fucking hell, your eyes!"

More came inside and she felt surrounded, like a mythical creature that had been discovered. But she knew it wasn't to stare in amazement. The look in their eyes ranged from abhorrence to confusion, all of them speechless.

She stood firm, accepting her fate with each second that passed. "Where is Ben? Where is my brother?"

The main villager, the one with the eye-patch, neared her, a clink echoing in his steps from the metal in his outfit as he raised a lantern at Cora. She squinted when it was nearly next to her face, both from the brightness of the flame and to how warm it was. He narrowed his only eye at her. "I never be hearing of anyone with red eyes, except for one type. You're a Ruby. One of them special Rubies, I reckon, with how much this witch is trying to hide you..."

Cora neither confirmed, nor denied it. With a shaking voice, grounded by a resolute tone, she repeated, "Where is Ben?"

The man dropped his lantern to his side, the shadows moving in his beard, making the untamed growth of hair appear to dance in the light. "At the river. Where more of your kind be waiting."

Your kind. She knew that he meant the lycans, and her lips twitched as she wanted to correct him, but all of her focus was on Ben.

Another, standing at the doorway, spoke up, "Now wait, we can get some serious leverage here with having a Ruby. What would one of them Phasin' Rubies get us? We been needin' more twine, and more pigs—"

The one with the eye-patch looked to the ground next to him as he said, "Enough. They'll be angry that she's been hidin' this long in our woods" —he faced Hilda—"And you better go too, witch, to confirm it's been your magic that has kept her hidin'. Can't imagine any other reason for why the lycans not be smellin' her out."

With defeat, Hilda replied, "You are more shrewd than I remembered, Lyonel."

The man let out an amused "Heh" and repositioned himself in the cabin so he faced both Cora and Hilda. "To be honest? I am more relieved that she's one of them, as they might forgive your boy for actin' so harshly, now. That'll cost of all of us, not just face. Carryin' a silver dagger...the kid is going to get this entire village into trouble."

Hilda was about to speak, but Cora was tired of them wasting time like this, knowing the next words solidified her future. His face...gods what happened to his face? "Take me. Take me to Ben. To those lycans. We need to go."

Locking her gaze with Hilda's, Cora could see the witch give a very small, single nod of approval. A cold chill washed over Cora, and she felt both the gravity of everything and the magnitude of not saving Ben. Some part of her was ready for this, to meet these lycans for the first time. She was always destined to, so why not now? At least now, she'd have a good reason to expose herself.

Hilda faced the men, speaking with a frown that aged her. "We will go with you, then. Let us hurry."

The night was young and full of crisp air as they walked underneath the near full moon. The men guided the way with their torches and lanterns, lighting the road in small circles of golden firelight as the gravel and dirt crunched underfoot.

Cora looked back at the house, which was a small thing in the distance now. The emotions that rose when staring at her home were akin to when one of her parents had died – this was a death of something else. Her childhood, memories, the smell of home. No more staring at mother and father's grave, or making sour dour in the kitchen that she grew up in.

She didn't even get to say goodbye or grab a memento. Or fidget with the backdoor one more time because the hinges were old and needed repairing, never having had fixed it when their father died. He had promised to fix the door before he caught pneumonia. In some way, she felt close to him every time she opened the door, like he'd still appear to fix it one day.

Now it wouldn't matter, as she feared she'd never get to touch it again.

It's either that or Ben...

Hilda placed a familiar hand on Cora's shoulder, and she looked up into the witch's eyes. Cora silently sobbed, her lip quivering with a clenched jaw as she refused to cry with sorrow. She'd cry with the strength that her mother had when she realized she would not survive childbirth.

It was a release, and disappointment.

Hilda spoke softly, dropping her hand to Cora's arm. "You are certain, Cora? I can go to Ben, and see what I can do. If all else fails, we could still flee. I cannot guarantee success, but we might manage it."

Cora's body responded before she had time to consider, shaking her head in small movements, pressing her lips so hard together that she was surprised she still had feeling in them. After letting out a deep breath and wiping her eyes, she said, "I am fine, Hilda. I just didn't get to say goodbye, or anything. And I don't want to leave. I cant stand the thought of never coming home."

Hilda wiped some tears off of Cora's face. "I don't mean to sound harsh, Cora, but we have such little time to spare. If we don't go with haste, then there will be a third grave to mourn at that cabin."

A warm flood of anger rushed through Cora, and the crying halted. Ben's grave. Cora gave a single, deep nod, licking her lips that tasted like salt from the tears, and she turned towards the villagers to follow. Hilda's lantern guided Cora. They had to move, no matter what. No stopping.

Hilda added, "I should warn that that the lycans in which we will be meeting tonight might not be the kindest. Any normal lycan would not make such high demands so carelessly."

Cora's fists clenched. "How are they making such demands if they don't even speak our language?"

One of the largest differences between humans and lycans was that the lycans spoke Dånesh, an old dialect from across the seas where they originated. Hilda, in her training, learned the basics of Dånesh and passed it onto Cora, who would no doubt need to use it one day.

But the two had been slack in their practice as of late, and Hilda could only speak at such a basic level.

"They must have a translator, or, if I am not wrong, they could be Ashmores," Hilda said with caution.

The terrain steepened as they neared two large oak trees that Cora had grown up using as a barrier for the witching border. She'd only ever pass these when the moon was nothing but a sliver in the sky, or not even there at all.

She looked up and found it right away, half of it brightly glowing.

This would be the first time she walked past these trees with her eyes anything other than hazel.

This is really happening.

As if sensing her worries, Hilda added, "Act with strength, Cora. You were never born to grow old and alone inside of a cabin. Take that and use it to fuel you with confidence, if you must."

Cora's emotions had grown numb, completely overwhelmed with what was happening. Or perhaps it was the adrenaline that made her feel such a way. Either way, Cora didn't remember the rest of the walk to the river. It was like mentally walking through mud, where the focus became on trudging along as everything became colored with brown.

One moment, she had been inside her cabin, and then the next, they were at a river where many more torches revealed quite the scene. She took Hilda's words seriously and kept reminding herself that this was always going to happen, one way or another.

It didn't take long to spot an injured Ben against a large rock, with a few villager tending to him. As Cora nearly burst to run towards Ben, Hilda placed an uncharacteristically strong, commanding hand on Cora's shoulder. "The Ashmores. I knew it. That's who Ben injured. And there are many of them, it seems. Be very careful, and speak deliberately once I call you over. I will keep the barrier on you for a moment longer so you can tend to your brother, keeping your scent is hidden. Just keep your face away from their line of site."

Cora spotted the lycans once Hilda mentioned them, as they were slightly down river and standing in it. The one leading the group of a dozen bore tattoos that trailed up his forearms in an elaborate design, all the way to his neck where it covered any of his exposed flesh there. That's right...lycans bore ceremonial tattoos. Cora used to ask Hilda if she'd have to get one, someday.

Someday is now.

Hilda released her grip and without hesitation, Cora moved down the slight slope, her gaze darting from Ben to the lycans – those very lycans would surely take her tonight, and become her people.

This was probably the last time that she'd ever see Ben, as after this, they would take her from him.