Ockrapticuiz, the odd

The young man bearing the letter made his way from the grand hall into the chill of the night. Outside, three men awaited him.

"Did you deliver it to her?" one asked.

Before he could respond, another man interjected, "Don't bother showing up with excuses if you know what's good for you."

"I delivered it to her," he replied, standing his ground, not daring to step closer to the imposing trio.

"You had better have." Two of the men chuckled while the third, evidently the leader, glared suspiciously at the young messenger.

"The instructions were clear," he silenced the laughter, commanding their attention immediately. "I told you to personally hand it to Alorea and ensure she received it." His voice sent chills into the night air, his breath as cold as his words.

"Yes, Prince Scorpio. I did exactly that," the servant replied, visibly distressed and struggling to keep up with the interrogation.

Scorpio smiled, stepping closer and placing an arm on the young man's shoulder. "You have done well, Nathan. You will be rewarded."

Nathan shrugged, discomforted by Scorpio's touch. Neither Scorpio nor his two detestable brothers bore any semblance of friendliness towards others. They weren't the type to reward loyalty, regardless of the service rendered.

Nathan sensed Scorpio's ulterior motives, a feeling amplified by the weight of Scorpio's large arm.

"What do you think of the princess?" Scorpio drew Nathan closer, his enormous shadow looming over Nathan's smaller frame.

"I think she's beautiful," he managed to reply, uncertain of what else to say.

"Is that all?"

"She has a pleasant voice, and she speaks kindly..."

His words were cut off by Scorpio's laughter. Scorpio grinned widely, as if he had just achieved a great victory.

"She speaks kindly?? That's what anyone would say about a princess. But that is not Alorea. She is anything but kind."

Without warning, his lethal claws extended into Nathan's shoulder, eliciting a cry of pain. Scorpio applied more pressure, his eyes glowing yellow.

"Alorea would never notice a servant like you so readily. And even if she did, I'm certain she wouldn't be kind. You lied to me!"

"No, I didn't..." Nathan grimaced in pain, but Scorpio's sharp claws only dug deeper into his flesh.

Deeper and deeper they went, forcing Nathan to his knees.

"Please... Stop..."

But Scorpio was deaf to his pleas.

"When I give you an order, you weakling, you follow it immediately, you peasant! Defying me means you're ready to join your father, wherever he may be!!"

He reveled in this cruelty. His two brothers watched Nathan's suffering with silent laughter, clearly deriving satisfaction from the scene.

Their laughter grew louder and louder, echoing into the distance, out into the night.

From afar, Alorea watched as the three men ganged up on the frail man, relentlessly kicking him as he lay on the ground.

"Princess, you shouldn't be here," Zoe, Alorea's maid, cautioned from behind her. "You might catch a cold. Let me take you inside."

Alorea was indifferent to the cold, remaining motionless, her arms crossed over her chest. The scene held some unexplainable significance to her. She wasn't certain if this had happened in her past life as her memories of it were hazy.

Who was this weak young man? Why didn't she remember ever speaking to him? Why didn't she recall receiving a letter from him? Did he exist in her past life? And why did he remind her of Nathan? She had no grasp on the answers.

"Who is that man?" Alorea asked, eager to know the identity of the man currently under attack.

"Nobody knows him. He came with the princes of the Rising Sun."

Alorea scrutinized the scene before her. This man looked strikingly familiar. He reminded her of Nathan, but he was far too feeble and young to be him. That would be too odd.

"Let me ask you something, Zoe. Do you know of a prince named Nathan?"

"Nathan?" Zoe echoed, "He doesn't have a surname?"

"Nobody knows his surname," Alorea sighed.

"Well, where does this Nathan come from?"

"The Rising Sun," Alorea replied, aware of how peculiar that would sound at this moment, but it was the only truth she knew.

"There are only three princes from the Rising Sun. You can see all three of them over there."

The three princes were still engaged in their assault, relentlessly attacking the man on the ground.

"What if there's a fourth?" Alorea murmured. The cold air brushed against her skin once more, stinging her bare shoulders with its icy touch. Perhaps it was indeed too cold for her.

"You know better, princess. After all, I'm just a maid, and you're Princess Alorea."

Alorea took one last look, then shook her head.

"Right. I should know better." She turned to leave, the cold becoming unbearable. It was a wonder how the three men could exert so much energy in such frigid conditions, or how the fourth man could withstand their assault without freezing to death.

He couldn't be Nathan. Nathan was too strong to be bullied in such a manner, too regal to ever be a servant. He was a prince, even if his name seemed nonexistent at the moment. At worst, he could be a bastard, but never a servant.

Her skin shivered as she made her way back into the ballroom, erasing the incident from her memory.

As Alorea reentered the lively celebration, she noticed the dance had ended and guests were presenting their gifts to the king and queen.

"My name is Ockrapticuiz the third. I am not a wolf," a man declared, bowing before the king and queen, an old wooden box in his hands.

Whispers spread among the crowd.

"A mortal?"

"No one invited a human..."

"How did he get in here?"

Ignoring the murmurs, Ockrapticuiz continued, "My family has a long history with the werewolves. A story that ended when my great-grandfather, Thorapticuiz the last, distanced himself from the supernatural world."

Another wave of whispers swept through the crowd. Everyone knew Thorapticuiz was a loyal ally to the werewolves in their long-standing feud with the vampires.

"Is he from the great bloodline?"

"It's impossible! Thorapticuiz the last vowed never to return."

"But he isn't Thorapticuiz the last, is he? He said he's his great-grandson. We can't blame him for his ancestor's decision."

The last Thorapticuiz was seen over fifty years ago when he renounced his duty to the werewolves and opted for a normal life among mortals.

"And why have you come to us? Your great-grandfather made his intentions clear," Alorea's father asked, as surprised as the other kings and queens in the grand hall.

"I am not my father, nor my grandfather, and certainly not my great-grandfather. However, I would like to apologize for his actions," Ockrapticuiz continued. "In return for your forgiveness, I offer a gift to the king of the Night Wolves."

The wooden box in Ockrapticuiz's hands seemed to shimmer as he spoke, and all the wolves suddenly became alert.

"What's in there?!" The king was as startled as everyone else.

"An ancient gift for your majesty," Ockrapticuiz said.

"What exactly is it?"

"Claws," he replied. "Ten powerful claws from the greatest werewolves to ever walk the Earth."

"Why would you have these claws in your possession?"

"Who were these great werewolves? Can you name them?"

"Why would you give this to the Night Wolves if the claws belong to different wolves from different kingdoms?"

Ockrapticuiz was bombarded with questions from the kings and queens, but he only smiled through his thick beard, as if this was precisely what he wanted.

Then he turned his head, and his eyes met with Alorea's, sending a jolt of shock through her.

"What's happening?"

She asked herself as the strange man smiled at her. An odd sensation washed over her. She didn't remember ever seeing this man in her past life either.

"He shouldn't be here..."

Why was he here? What did he want from her?