When Alisa had been rather young, things seemed simplistic and peaceful. War was a word only used in the history books, stories for the purpose of scaring the new witches into being obedient little workers.

But as the young grew, old fables were pushed aside and forgotten about.

However, some tales were harder to forget than others.

Centuries of generations of witch folk spoke of the hatred among the beasts and the chaos they created around them. It stemmed from the imbalance of their nature; the beasts within the men.

Yet not a soul spoke of the cruelty that lay beneath the facade of the elders and their perspective of the old stories.

Stories twisted to benefit the ones who tell them - lies planted perfectly to manipulate every generation that would follow to ensure they would always find a reason to fight.

Each side had their own versions of what really happened in the old Great War yet only one species told it as it really was; the greatest devastation to befall all kinds.

Confusion and deceit hung in the air as memories of a simpler time came rushing back. A time when she didn't know better nor sought to know it.

She had been young and naive, quick to believe the words spoken to her because she never expected lies to be one of their greatest acts.

However, Ryder's ancient pack texts benefited no soul; showing the darker sides of all species, even the naturals. That each species had the potential to be cruel and heartless, yet also the possibility to be better.

"What do these texts have to do with them?"

She carefully probed her friend, trying to understand the truth that lay bare but she dare not speak their names out of fear.

"The witches banned any form of defamation from the moment territory lines became permanent," he began, clicking his tongue across the roof of his mouth.

He had told this story to a fair few that were willing to lend an ear.

For not everybody understood why his family valued these texts so highly.

The terror was clear in his eyes - he feared what this knowledge could do in the wrong hands but he trusted Alisa despite the nagging voices inside of his head. She was one of them now and so she must know too.

If she wanted to prepare for a war, he could smell coming, then she needed all of the information he could give her.

Just like everybody else.

"But we still keep these texts to remind us that looks can be deceiving. Not everybody is a foe of ours, while on the other hand, not everybody is a friend either."

Alisa's fingers brushed lightly over the old book, seeing new truths that she had never noticed before the night she had shifted.

The look inside of a witch's eyes; hollow and cruel.

"We as a species fight for our family, but I am yet to understand what they fight for. These texts are still only told by one of us, and even then, we were still in the dark about what they were fighting us for. There are more questions written than answers, unfortunately."

Ryder explained, unsure of what motivated their species for war.

"I read somewhere," she murmured, closing her eyes as a rock appeared inside of her mind.

A long-forgotten memory that begged itself to the surface.

Her mother, Asha, had showed her this particular rock, the summer before she had turned into the enemy itself, as an introduction to their kind.

'A sacred duty to correct the imbalance of nature.'

The saying had become a mantra to the tribe, their sacred duty to the universe and their gods alike.

"For generations we have listened to the elders who have come before us. Their stories are reminders of the fallen members in our quest to balance the earth as one."

Asha's words had imprinted inside of her daughter's mind, as a way to pass the quest onto her for the day she too would turn eighteen.

Ryder looked up, noticing the change in Alisa's tone, barely audible at first.

It had become small and confused; stalled in her understanding of the world that was ever-changing around them.

"That the witches fight for Mother Nature, to correct an imbalance; A mistake that was created and needed to be abolished."

Ryder's bright eyes widened and dulled for a moment.

Before turning hard as he gritted his teeth in underlying anger.

"Are you saying we are the mistakes the witches have been trying to abolish for centuries?"

In truth, he wasn't really asking.

Both knew the answer to his question, it hadn't needed to even be asked in the first place.

"Where did you say you read this again?" He fired his next question, narrowing his eyes in a voiceless accusation.

Quick to fix her slip up, she blurted out the first thing she could think of.

"They're just old wives' tales that are told to children to scare them. I never really believed in either one..."

A lie in the finest of ways; Alisa used to believe those tales.

His shoulders visibly relaxed as the steam inside of him simmered away.

"I forgot you weren't from here. You've been here so long. Fighting alongside us like any other pack member. But it's nice to know you come with some questionable knowledge of your own," he joked as he nudged her shoulder against his.

Throughout the years she had spent with the pack, she had enjoyed their physical contacts.

For it showed the affections they held for fellow wolves and the loyalty behind every movement.

The witches had forbidden contact centuries ago, as if it could've somehow melted their cold hearts.

Alisa often wondered how she had ever lived life before emotions were introduced.

In her tribe, her actions held consequences but in the pack, her actions were only met with pride and sincerity.

A black sheep she no longer was.

And in that moment, she allowed herself to laugh.

A concept she remembered getting punished for whenever faced with the Clan Leader or the Elders.

But with Ryder, and his friends, laughter was something almost second nature to them.

She thrived in this foreign world, in ways she never expected to.

It was almost like she had found the true meaning of family. Despite missing her mother at times, it was almost perfect.

However, at other moments she felt like it was far from that. Uncomfortable but true. She couldn't shake the nagging feeling inside her that if they truly knew who she was, she would no longer be accepted.

"You can always disregard my human knowledge," she joked back promptly with a nudge back once more.

"Better than the lies the witches tell to make themselves seem like the good guys in all of this."

The moment the words left his dry lips intended as another mere joke; Alisa's stomach had sunk.

For the first time in three years, she felt a new emotion. One she knew in theory but had never felt before - Guilt.

Lying to the one person who believed she truly was one of them was a hard pill to swallow. He had accepted her, showed her his way of life and she had hidden like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

She no longer knew what side she really was on. She fought for the pack, but a part of her also longed to use the gifts inside of her.

Two halves of a whole, desperate in a struggle to surface.

Lies may have been common for her kind but not for her. She had always prided herself on obedience and honesty - serving the one in power with her life.

That was just how things were supposed to be done. How she had grown and moulded to know things.

But which authority figure did her loyalty truly belong to was a mystery now, even to herself.

"Hey, don't worry about them. They can't touch us inside the pack lines," he soothed, expecting her change of mood to be fear inside of guilt.

"Yeah, you're right," she meekly responded, flashing him a half-hearted smile.

Even though they had ambushed them once before and nothing was stopping them from repeating the very same action.

"Let's just focus on that prophecy the Witch Prince spoke of."

"Which is?"

"We have to find the people that are the keys to the whole thing... if we hope to survive this war. One I know my father is dreading," Ryder responded.

He casually showed her a map of the world around them but that interested her less than the prospect of who he was searching for.

"Like who?" Alisa asked, while barely glancing down at the map he had placed in front of her.

"Judging by everybody's reactions and whispers around here, I think the Herytics are back and ready for revenge."

Fear had swirled around the room just by the mention of ancient foes that were what nightmares were truly made of.

"Who are the Herytics?"