– For many centuries, since the violent advent, paved with deaths and cruel executions of the desert religion of Ywhwe, the monsters and other humans of beliefs labeled as heretics, were persecuted and murdered. We hid, we fought our prey for the good of our families, we tried to protect the traditions in which the roots of civilization were born, and we narrowly failed. Humans have a poor history of being easily swayed by ideas alien and foreign to their own, whether it's a part of adaptability or if it's some degree of stupidity I don't dare say anything on the matter. During the First World War we were silently watching, during the Second World War we witnessed the human self-destructive capacity with nuclear energy, the birth of the Black Hand and its influences in our own shadow world, and our boiling point was reaching its limit. It was during the Cold War that we saw how far humans can go in terms of cruelty. The Soviet Union murdered more humans than could be expected, monsters were affected by the famine caused by the Holodomor. Watching so many families being slaughtered... That was the last insult we would endure. At the very moment the filth of the Soviet Union fell, we rose from the shadows.

  Professor Rose de Lacroix, a pale woman with a constantly frowning face behind her sunshade, pressed a button on the remote control she held in her right hand and changed the scene of the slideshow. The holographic screen changed the images of what were once human cities, large buildings and military bases, immense cathedrals and other temple-like buildings, and groups of humans gathered in meeting halls, to show the same places destroyed and remade by the hands of the monsters, flags of victory displayed in various locals, imprisoned war criminals and representatives of both sides forging peace deals. The students watched attentively, not daring to say a word as the teacher walked slowly around the huge room where she taught.

  When the last image passed, she resumed her narrative in a calm voice, but you could hear the latent pride in her words.

  – I was present at many of these events, such is the life of vampires. When the Civilization War began, I was present as a strategist and spy. They had planes, we could fly; they had submarines, we breathed underwater and attacked from the depths; tanks, cars and trucks were meaningless in the face of the brute force that hurled these vehicles back at those who formerly drove them and ran away. And even if they ran, we chased them to the end. Under the leadership of the werewolves and their pack tactics, they guided us and sent the best warriors on the weakest fronts, weakening enemy lines even more, using all the potential each monster had. The tribe that led the brave lycanthropes, the Children of Fenrir, are to this day honored with positions of leadership, so much so that we have a student here who, if I'm not mistaken, is the son of the heroic Uther, isn't he?

  Silence. Nobody answered. Professor Rose felt slightly embarrassed by that, and she watched carefully all the steps where tables of students where silently sitting, and on none of them did she see the familiar face of the local delinquent that everyone adored for different reasons. Whether he was the hero of the students mistreated by Alexander and his troupe, whether he was the class joker who irreverently lightened the mood of the teachers, it was common agreement that Uther's son was adored by most of the faculty at the Mother Moon Academic Institute, and hated by others, and the same could be said of the students that were around him all the time.

  As she searched for the boy, her eyes fell on one of the werewolf's notable friends: an orc. Skin dark as coffee, brown eyes behind glasses, a pair of sharp fangs out of his mouth like tusks going upward, and his most iconic feature: a big, flashy mohawk beaded with bones. The boy, named Pedro, ended up being called by his nickname alone, “Capybara”, which avoided internal confusion between the other students and the small group of Uther's son, who by coincidence, was also called Pedro. The teacher had no idea why an orc would accept such a bizarre nickname, but as he didn't seem to be bothered, he ended up being more known by nickname than by name.

  Sighing in resignation, the teacher caught the boy's attention, who noticed the vampire looking at him.

  – Sir... Capybara... Can you tell me where Pedro Uthersson is? I expected him to be present here. He's always been an avid student of history, why didn't he show up? It's the fourth year in a row that he has done this, the first time I missed it, but now...

  – Well, I can tell you what’s on, teacher – the young orc replied after a short chorus of laughter from the other students – He told me he doesn't feel like participating in this anymore.

  – And for what reason? – the teacher looked irritated suddenly.

  – How many times do veterans have to attend the same introductory class on the history of our civilization? – Capybara asked back, as if answering the teacher's doubts.

  – I understand what you mean, boy. However, there is a very strong reason why we have this class at the beginning of the year, for all students during the weekends before the school year – the teacher pressed another button, the screen changed the scene to what appeared to be a land dead, destroyed, and devoid of anything but rock and rubble – The Desolated Lands. If humans tried to annihilate themselves and us, if they tried to evolve, or if they tried to destroy the whole world, we will never know what went through their minds when they made the bombs that destroyed part of Russ, part of China and Asia, and almost all of the East Middle and Central America. More than half of the total population of all these locations has been lost, the survivors are the last of different races, both humans and monsters, and the unified monster parliament, the Pillar of the World, was able to organize a joint force to block the threats that came from the Desolated Lands, the mutants that evolved from the chemical reactions of the explosions. There are reports that evil magic was used, but the only one on the trail for the cure, Uther, was lost. Hm? Any question? – the teacher looked at one of the new students who was raising his hand between the occupied seats.

  – I heard that humans had a similar organization, something called UN. What happened to it?

  – After the Civilization War, it was destroyed. Secret plans for the next hundred years for humanity were discovered, the monsters didn't like what they saw and destroyed the organization and its members. Those involved, that survived, were arrested. There is no doubt that there was a plan to retaliate, for as soon as the UN members were arrested, the missiles came and almost took us back to the stone age. Or worse, they almost took us to a completely different era...

  Another click of the button, and the image that followed took all the students by surprise. It always took them by surprise, after all, seeing the creature in front of them even in a simple holographic image was not comfortable. Capybara was reminded once again of what the world was made of, of the dangers that existed in it, of the result of the arrogance of those who did not admit defeat.

  – Ghouls, mutants, freaks, creatures that came back from the dead completely twisted, horrors that would only have been conceived in fake, fanciful biology books mirrored in H.P. Lovecraft and his conception of the unknown and the abyss. But here these creatures exist, without having to wait for the alignment of the planets to attack us, they don't sleep, and they don't wait for us to sleep to advance against our world. Young Capybara, I ask you to go look for the boy Pedro, I would like to have him here while I apply the introductory class, please.

  – Well, you'll have to wait, teacher, there's already someone from the class looking for him right now.

  The young orc's words weren't false just to escape the obligation to walk the halls of the Institute. Igor, the smartest and most tech enthusiast of the group of friends, walked around the rooms and peered between the dorms asking if other students saw the young werewolf. He was a good young man, patient and always very calm, a smile on his stubbled black face to match his pitch-black hair.

  Many were apprehensive about the approach of the young computer and math prodigy, perhaps because of his predatory nature. Therianthropes were natural with their menacing presence, but Igor was of a species that took fear much further: a white shark. Few like him studied on land, since underwater colonies were all the “marine” (monsters whose race was predominantly aquatic) needed in life. It was a fact that there were those who lived on land, but they were not so common. Igor was one of those who won a scholarship that many of his people wouldn't even pay attention to, but for him, it was a challenge. As soon as he started to live on land, he had to get used to not constantly walk forward, and when he felt ready, he joined the classes at the Mother Moon Academic Institute.

  Thinking about it made the young man a little nostalgic, and he barely realized he had arrived at the Institute's gym. He was told that the last to see the infamous werewolf were two other friends of the group, Heitor and Andrew. The two were lifting weights further down, as Igor was indicated by other students, and the contrast between them couldn't be greater. Whereas Andrew, a dwarf, was bald and with a long beard neatly arranged in beads of gold and shiny steel, his strong arms as if they were pieces of meat roasted by the tan he had from his mechanic and forge classes, Heitor was tall, almost six feet tall, curly dark brown hair, body like a young tree, wide and strong for days of workout. No wonder, bear-type therianthropes tended to be huge compared to other monsters, and even among werewolves they used to be towers of muscle.

  The boy waited for the two to notice his presence, he didn't want to disturb them and cause an unnecessary accident. Andrew saw him first, stopped what he was doing and put his weight aside, nudged Heitor in the knee, and was laying the huge halers he was holding to his side, grabbing a towel and wiping his face with sweat. The boy greeted Igor silently, not showing signs of fatigue.

  – Have you seen Pedro? Looks like the teachers are looking for him, the annual introductory class thing.

  – Oh crap, seriously, how many times have we seen these classes? Five? Six? – Andrew said as he took two bottles of water – Damn, every year it's the same thing, so I made a point of watching the first one before everyone else, I got rid of that obligation this fast.

  – I don't like to miss classes, but I understand why Pedro is absent for the fourth year in a row – Heitor commented with his calm voice – How long has he been a student here?

  – I'll answer if you tell me where he went – Igor replied, getting an irreverent laugh from the two – Really, I understand you're complaining about this and that, but I don't have much time to chat. I have to go back to the computer lab after I find crazy Pedro.

  – Professor Jenny again? – Andrew asked, raising an eyebrow.

  – And who else would it be?

  The two boys groaned in discomfort, remembering the teacher's erratic and bizarre personality. Heitor accepted the bottle of water the dwarf offered him and opened it, took a long swig and wiped his mouth after catching his breath.

  – I saw him passing by, he was distracted by something, Samuel was right behind him and, if I'm not mistaken, maybe he's at the well in the front yard.

  – And why would he be there? – Igor asked, confused.

  – You have a good memory for computers, but you forget other people’s routine very easily – Andrew teased, taking a laugh from his friend – Ferdinand went to the city, to the bakery where he works, Pedro might be waiting for an apple pie that was promised in the last week after our card game tournament.

  Igor shook his head, disconsolately, and said goodbye to the two friends. He understood why Pedro was waiting at the outside fountain now, but he had no idea why Samuel was after him. Whatever the reason, it couldn't be good.

  For the therianthrope rat, the answer was simple: a prank. He'd been trying for weeks to apply one of the good ones he had in store for the werewolf, but never had the opportunity to use it. Now, maybe, the way the werewolf was focused inside his mind and ignoring the world around him, he couldn't miss the chance. Sneaking behind the werewolf, at a good distance, not even over the loud sound of the headphones Pedro would be able to hear the wererat running fast and startling other students as it dodged feet, legs and other moving physical forms.

  And there, lying on the low wall of the fountain that surrounded the great statue symbol of the Mother Moon Academic Institute, he was an easy target.

  Samuel was thin, which allowed him to move with good speed, and thanks to his rodent nature, the strangest acrobatics came naturally to the young man. With the help of the long tail that he never hid, it was as if he had three legs or three arms as he changed his grip and constantly shifting his balance. It was no problem for him to be clinging to the arms of the werewolf statue that held a large goblet that, above it, was a full moon carved into the shape of “dripping” drops of water into the goblet. The beauty of the statue was to behold for all students and parents or visitors who came there, the details were careful and well done. For Pedro, who had seen that statue hundreds of times for eight long years since he had come to study there, as a boarding school, it was a constant reminder of his obligations.

  Lying down, his face and body partially shaded by the shadow of the large wolf statue, his arms behind his head to relax as he dozed, nothing but the music playing through the headphones connected to his cell phone existed around him, the lyrics confusing anyone that could listen the loud volume coming from him, “let me rev it to you like a bike engine”. The day was moderately hot, and after a hearty meal, the young werewolf felt positively sleepy. The fresh air and splashes of water from the well added to the warm heat of the day were more than inviting, and since he was fed up with listening to the same speech for years and years without fail, it got to the point where he preferred to wade through the Institute corridors. With the fame he had, even his friends would leave him alone if the teachers wanted his presence in the introductory classes.

  The music in his headphones was loud enough that even the elf Ferdinand could hear it, entering through the front gate and slowly approaching. He looked at the fountain, saw his friend distracted, looked up and saw Samuel getting ready to throw balloons full of some extremely suspicious liquid at him. He sighed wearily, rubbed his free hand over his face, and just waited. He smoothed his hair a few times as the wererat prepared his hateful prank against the sleeping lad.

  Unlike the young werewolf who dyed his hair black, his elf best friend's hair was naturally black as coal that reflected light in shades of grey, long and tied in an elegant ponytail, which reached below the shoulders. He was slightly shorter than Heitor, standing at six feet tall, the other was four inches taller. His silver eyes drew a lot of attention from the students in the hallways. He drew even more attention when he was reunited with the other six young men, all so distinguished and with that strange light in their eyes.

  Samuel noticed Ferdinand looking from afar, the two made no sound with their voices, but it was clear that the elf did not want that prank to be done. It wouldn't be a good idea. The wererat thought otherwise, and the odd smile on his thin face indicated that he would go all the way with the game.

  In between the elf's resigned sigh, Samuel dropped both of the liquid-filled balloons he was holding, the first exploding in Pedro's chest, the second in his face. He woke up startled, screaming in rage as he saw his friend's silhouette disappearing from the statue and running behind the huge building.

  – You skinny little piece of shit! I'll rip your ass off in a kick that will turn your ass inside out! I swear to the gods! – Pedro shouted, furious, sniffing the air and frowning – What the hell was the fucking plastic shit he tossed on me? Damn, it smells sweet, too sweet.

  – It looks like apple juice – Ferdinand came over, sat down beside the werewolf and offered him a small package.

  – Wanna lick my face to find out?

  – You're the werewolf, it's dogs who lick things, so...

  – I'll rip your eyes out for that half-ass insult. Hm, no, in fact, it's such an idiotic stereotype I shouldn't even take it as an insult, you asshole. Got a fork? – the young werewolf pointed to the slice of apple pie.

  – It's made of plastic – Ferdinand shrugged as he offered the utensil.

  – Well, whatever. How's business at the bread store?

  – How many times do I have to say it's a bakery? Seriously, it looks like you guys do this to piss me off on purpose. It's not just a simple bread shop, I make sweets there.

  – Yeah, so what? You still make bread, so bread store – Pedro ate a modest piece of apple pie, sighing with contentment – ??Send my best regards to the cute girl who put her hard work on this pie, it tastes great.

  – I baked the pie.

  – Oh, cool. Fuck you then.

  The two were silent for a few moments, until they burst into laughter. Accustomed as they were to each other's sense of humor, it was obvious to both of them that the jokes would be on that level. Ferdinand even offered the werewolf a handkerchief to clean his face, which was well received. Pedro finished eating and sighed after feeling the food relax his mind.

  Ferdinand, however, looked worried about something, and Pedro noticed.

  – Alright, spill it out already. What's on your mind right now? You look stressed or something. Lost your job for being a jerk?

  – I wish it were this simple, man – the elf dropped his shoulders – Actually, it's the opposite. I'm thinking about leaving the Institute this year. I've been studying here for about five years now, and I already have a job, I know what career I’m gonna take, what I’ll be doing on my own. For me, I already have my life well decided from now on.

  – I get it. And that worries you because...?

  – You've been here longer than I have, than the others have, and while they seem to make some progress in their studies, some progress in knowing what they want, you're still being sloppy. You draw well, damn it, why don't you start a career as an artist?

  – Look, “mom”, I will be very direct with you: I do what I want. The Institute is the only place I have, the only home I know. I can't live here forever, of course, but my father's inheritance money is still frozen. I'm trying to work this out with a lawyer, I only have access to a third of all the money, and that bothers me. When I have all the money released, I'm out of here.

  – And how long will it take? You're already twenty-four, you're going to be twenty-five soon enough. Two more years to close ten years as a student? In the meantime, will you continue to be lazy and do nothing with the talents you have?

  – Look, seriously, I appreciate you worrying about me or my future like that. But, between you and I, shut the hell up. You have family, relatives, a bunch of people with positive expectations for your future, I don't have anyone that close, why should I worry then? When I get an apartment, I'll figure it out, duh.

  – That, this is something I never understood... – Ferdinand said, not irritated by his friend's carefree and authoritative tone – You are an orphan, heir to a war hero, you have an entire tribe of werewolves at your disposal, even more so the elders of your tribe who, by the times you spoke of them, treat you with great attention and interest, seem like they care about you. Why don't you ask them for help?

  – Ah, little Ferdinand, you seem so shallow in your understanding of me and the Children of Fenrir... – Pedro stood up, patted his legs to clean his pants of pie crumbs, and looked up – I have to do certain things myself. If I'm not able to fend my own fights, I won't be worthy to inherit my father's alpha position. I studied here all these years to take care of getting ready.

  Pedro walked a few steps forward, looking at the exit gate. He turned and faced his elf friend for a few moments. Ferdinand tried to understand what they saw so attractive in that werewolf's eyes, green as emeralds. Perhaps it was the fire that lurked just beneath that strange calm he displayed to all people that made people curious. A delinquent, who acted purely by his own will, and even when he violently attacked those who challenged him, they did not see him as a villain in the Institute.

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  The werewolf opened his arms, in a gesture that seemed to embrace the whole place, and the smile on his face was cheeky, but enigmatic.

  – I want to find a reason to keep living, feller. All this time here I wasted preparing for the world outside, looking for a will, a reason greater than just being the next alpha, the next madman to command other madmen. And what better place for that than a study and education center?

  – When you talk like that, it sounds like you’ll going to commit suicide if you don't find what you want – Ferdinand narrowed his eyes.

  Pedro shrugged, and turned his face back. The gates were always half-open for students who worked in the city, or who went out for a walk when they didn't have classes. He stared at the gates for a few moments, before turning around again and walking towards the fountain. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder and looked at him sideways, his eyes shining with a split-second green spark. For a brief moment Ferdinand felt a chill run down his spine, he couldn't say why.

  The werewolf spoke low, his voice controlled as if he was very tired of something. The elf never understood why his friend sometimes showed that feeling of exhaustion, but it was always present in his voice at certain moments. It was a bad sign, at best.

  – If you really think I would be willing to take my own life for such trivial reason, you certainly don't know me, partner. I'm going to take a nap somewhere without disturbances, okay?

  Pedro walked away, slow steps, and entered the Institute with the genuine intention of not talking to anyone for a few good hours, if possible.

  The office of headmaster Tiberius Swordfangs, one of the former soldiers of the Desolated Lands, was built with one goal in mind: comfort. Comfort for the occupant of the place, the headmaster of the Institute, and comfort for the students who were called there to talk about problems, about having caused problems, or if they were suffering problems. Fifty years ago, the furniture in that room had barely been touched by anyone who worked there, but some changes were made, as technology has come a long way since the monsters took over the world. But, overall, the office was just as it had been since the foundation of the Mother Moon Academic Institute.

  Behind the large polished oak table, decorated with a lamp, a statue of a Norse god playing some musical instrument, a few books and notebooks with pens nearby, and a soft red fabric covering over the flat surface of the table. The headmaster's elbows were not part of the decoration, but as they were deposited there with Tiberius clasping his hands together in front of his face as he awaited the young delinquent werewolf's presence, it was to be expected that they would be mistaken as such. Eyes stuck to the front door could open a hole if they stared too long. Luckily, the young werewolf finally appeared, his face always wearing that bored, amused expression that either irritated people or interested them out of sheer curiosity. Headmaster Tiberius found himself in the middle of both sensations caused.

  Moving his hand forward, the headmaster invited the young man to sit in the chair in front of the table, which the young man did, and waited silently. The two exchanged defiant looks, but relaxed with simultaneous sighs and half smiles. The director's voice was calm.

  – Lad, I must warn you that even if you are the informal protector of these corridors, it is necessary that you keep in mind your obligations as a student. Not just a student, but one of the oldest so far, eight long years studying here, so what happened? You've suddenly decided to stop performing at the annual introductory classes.

  – We've had this conversation four times, for the past three years, this is the fourth one, and I'll give you the same answer I gave you the previous three times: I already know what happened to the world, I already know what was done to the humans who nearly destroyed us and nearly brought the world to ruin. I hardly forget these things, and it got boring after the second time, I had to wait two more years to find out that I didn't need to listen to the same class every beginning of the year.

  – It's not that simple, lad, just giving up attending these classes because you feel tired. It's part of the history of the world, our history, to give it up because you've memorized all the commas is a bit irresponsible. Especially from you, the son of Uther. He was a scholar, a great student, and then a great teacher when they needed his help as a substitute teacher.

  – There, that’s something I didn't know until today – Pedro replied shrugging as he adjusted himself in his chair – Let's be honest here, headmaster, do you really believe that I need the introductory classes? At this point that would be the least of your worries with me.

  Tiberius hated to admit it, but he was right. It almost seemed like a tantrum that they demanded presence in something they repeated in the same way every year for all the students. And it was a fact, the headmaster was more concerned with more important things about Uther's son, demanding that he be present in something that didn't change anything at that point in his life must have been more stressful for the boy than for the teachers.

  Opening a drawer in his desk, the headmaster removed a large list of student files, laid them on the table, and clasped his hands together with fingers crossed. It was a matter he had wanted to settle with the boy for a long time.

  – Let's get to the matters that interest you, then, lad. We have finally reached the conclusion of last year's investigation, the students involved in that party that you insisted on "cramming" – Pedro chuckled after hearing that, and Tiberius smiled when he saw that attitude – Since Alexander entered the Institute we've had problems with him, wish I have had seen it before allowing him to have a quasi-cult behind him.

  – We both know that sometimes these things have to happen, headmaster. Call it fate, if you will, I call it "burnt hand logic."

  – Maybe yes, maybe not. Whatever the actual situation may be, the students participating in the party were all expelled three weeks ago, you may have noticed that the hallways are “cleaner” now. However, we can't get rid of Alexander just yet.

  – I'm afraid to ask why we can’t do it...

  – It's a simple matter: even if you had evidence against him specifically at the party, his family could file a lawsuit against you if something happens to their son. We know that when it comes to the Maximov Blakes, it's best to keep your head down and wait for a better opportunity.

  – Tsch, as I didn’t know that, headmaster – Pedro grimaced in disgust, crossing his arms behind his head – And tell me how many others are left. I mean personal henchmen, of course, Alex must still have a troupe of jerks up his ass to do the bullshit he demands.

  – The three cousins ??of Hispanic blood, these are the ones who seem to be still on his side. There are other henchmen like them, of course, but I doubt they’ll cause any new problems. They won't be a problem for you, that is – the headmaster raised an eyebrow as he took a new sheet of paper from his drawer, a medical record sheet – Five students sent to intensive care with broken ribs, dislocated arms and shoulders, and many broken teeth. Three students dropped out of the Institute after having their noses broken seven times each, another two switched class schedules in order to prevent you from breaking their fingers again, for the third consecutive time. Students with permanent teeth marks, claws, bruises so purple they looked like "eggplant tattoos". There are also two or three students who, after watching the violent attacks you inflicted on the bullies through the corridors, left the Institute, one of them is currently a Huntress in the Ruby Claws team nowadays.

  – Wow, this is such interesting stuff, headmaster, do you want to see the records of the orphanages and previous schools where I studied too? – Pedro mocked, whistling sarcastically at the information.

  Tiberius sighed, put the record papers aside and massaged his temples. As much as he was grateful to the young werewolf for being a pillar of “security” (on the loose sense of the word) against Alexander Maximov Blake's madness and degenerate attempts of fame, employing violence for the good of others against violence created an atmosphere of student tension that the headmaster did not want to exist. Admittedly, most of the students didn't seem to mind, at least the ones who were positively affected by the young werewolf's constant interference against his sworn enemy’s antics, but that would cause long-term problems with the new students to come.

  Thinking about it, something made the headmaster curious, and he thought it best to clear up his doubts with the boy.

  – Tell me, why do you think Maximov doesn't attack you directly?

  – Wait, what?

  – Think for a moment: since the beginning of his student career at the Institute, you were already here. Ever since you started rejecting any advances of friendship or dominance from him, the opposition they've made to you, his friends, has been great. Yet never did he, never Alexander Maximov Blake, took action to come against you personally.

  – Maybe it's because he's from the Bones of the Crown tribe, and I, the future alpha of the werewolf tribe that is leader of our people – Pedro shrugged without interest – I just see him as a soft-ass coward without an ounce of fiber in that thin body his. Seriously, the guy is more human than werewolf, no wonder, coming from a lower caste.

  – Do you think he can try to influence new students? – Tiberius raised an eyebrow.

  – Oh, will we have fresh meat this year then?

  – Focus, lad, please. The risk we take with this strange wave of dangerous and poisonous ideals among our own worries me. Many human political movements are causing a certain amount of trouble in other Colleges and Academic Institutes. You know the damage Alexander does, not to mention Hilary and her constant disturbance of peace.

  – Oh sure, if you'll let me, I can lock the harpy and her gang inside hallway lockers or wooden chests, chain the doors and throw away the keys for the whole year.

  – Don't even joke, lad, you would do it even without my permission if given the chance. I'll make you a very simple request: take care of the corridors. I know half of the teachers don't approve of your attitude, let alone that they don’t know if they like your behavior, but you've become necessary. You are an opposition to those who try to destroy what is good here at the Institute. Think you can handle it?

  Pedro was surprised by that request. It wasn't the first time he'd been asked to be "the bounty hunter" of the corridors, it was thanks to him that Alexander was under control, and it was thanks to him that Hilary didn't dare push her luck any further than she should. But here, a formal request from Headmaster Tiberius seemed almost too great of a privilege to simply accept without careful thought.

  But internally, there was something that forced the young werewolf to accept the request regardless of doubts. Perhaps an insecurity, an innate sense of goodwill, he couldn't say. Maybe it was that horrible, buzzing hum that occasionally popped up at the base of his skull to torment him. In any case, Pedro smiled at the opportunity.

  – What do I have to lose? I already beat them on a daily basis anyway, now it will be for duty. There's nothing more fun than applying authority to the insubordinate.

  – I know, I know – the headmaster laughed a little, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed the boy. Before Pedro actually left the room, Tiberius called out to him as he opened the door. The boy turned and looked, inquisitive – Be careful, young man. Apply yourself to your studies as you always have, don't let the power go to your head.

  – As if that will ever happen, headmaster Tiberius – Pedro scoffed and shrugged. He left the room and closed the door.

  The boys, rested and carefree after their long day at the Academic Institute, were gathered in the large, gray-walled dormitory that belonged to them. A large flat screen TV, trunks and cabinets with their belongings, clothes and miscellaneous utensils, a black circular rug on the floor, three bunk beds and a large hammock tucked between the beds and close to the ceiling, a DVD player and a large video game above from the row of drawers where they kept some T-shirts, socks and notebooks. In one corner a small fridge, in another corner a table with a microwave, and a door that led to a large bathroom.

  Two of them, Ferdinand and Andrew, played video games together, a vehicular combat game where cars blasted each other with firearms and collided with pedestrians, smearing the TV screen with blood and guts. Samuel watched the game lying in his hammock, throwing a little rubber ball that bounced from the floor to the wall to the ceiling and back to him again. Heitor was silent as he read a book and concentrated on his activity, his eyes moving slowly and his chest rising and falling as he breathed, and Igor sat at a small table with his laptop working on some of his little projects. Capybara, near the microwave, was busy heating a sandwich, when something occurred to him. He looked around the entire room, counted how many people were there, and realized that someone was missing.

  – Where’s Pedro? – he asked after taking a resounding bite of his lunch.

  – Last I saw him, he went to the third floor – Heitor replied, his voice echoing from his bunk louder than it should have.

  – The hell he’s doing there?

  – Reading books, perhaps? – Samuel suggested, shrugging – I think he decided to hide on the terrace.

  – And does he have access to the terrace? – Igor asked, curious.

  – I think he has – the wererat replied – Every now and then I see him entering a door he shouldn't. How he does it, no damn clue.

  – Are you worried about something? – Ferdinand asked, barely taking his eyes off the TV screen.

  – I really don't know. But I'll tell you after I get back.

  – Where are you going? – the elf asked.

  – Where else? I'm going after the werewolf of our pack.

  The corridors of the Mother Moon Academic Institute were wide, the walls painted in a dark gray tone with red lines near the baseboard. Some dorm doors closed, and some open, showed some of the students doing their modest activities and studying, mostly male dorms. The tall windows on the right side of the hall showed the starlight sky outside, the dark night contrasting with the city buildings in the distance. Howlingtown was a good city, big enough to have four districts, north, south, east, and west, with a coastal region with wide beaches and many ports.

  The young orc could see the lights reflecting off of the lenses of his glasses as he walked up the stairs to the second floor. A few lamps lit here and there, there were ethereal highs in the halls of a college at night. The stairs to the third floor weren't very far, and Capybara had to go through the large food court to get where he wanted. More stairs, more footsteps that echoed softly off the walls, and soon, Capybara found himself looking for the door that led to the terrace. Apparently, it was a work door, only accessible to the janitor, but it was unlocked. If Pedro had access to that flight of stairs, it meant he was breaking some rules of the Institute, but not that he would care, as far as Capybara knew.

  And Capybara was doing the same thing now as he walked the stairs to look for his friend. It was a relatively high staircase, and when he reached the terrace, the cold night hit him hard. The dark sky, the icy wind, the absence of any buildings other than chimneys and vents spread across the open space. And not far from the door, the young orc could see a familiar figure moving. He appeared to be practicing martial arts with an invisible opponent while whispering something in Norse. A high punch, a whisper. A medium kick, a whisper. A hook punch, a jab and a knee hit, more whispers. His feet made his body spin to dodge fanciful blows and counterattack right away, it was like a one-man dance.

  The young orc waited until Pedro noticed him. The two greeted each other. They clapped their clenched fists in front, up, down, clapped their open hands together and went to sit on the terrace wall. It was late January, the full moon was on its last night, and Pedro felt more alive than ever. Despite this, Capybara realized that his friend had something deep that put him down to the ground.

  – Tell me, why are you hiding here? The teachers no longer want you to attend introductory classes, but they still got on my nerves because of you.

  – Do you ever feel like you have the whole world on your shoulders? – Pedro replied with another question, without paying attention to his friend's doubts.

  – What the hell are you talking about?

  – Bah, forget it. I'm just feeling kind of... Bored, I guess. Every year the same thing, the teachers can't decide if they love me or if they try to throw me out the window so they don't have to look at my face any longer. The people who annoy me every day, Hilary, Manuella and Alexander, will chase my ass over and over again, the most of “emotion” we'll have this year is the Blue Moon festival. Not to mention the fact that, every day, I wait for my tribe's summons to finally become alpha.

  – Hey, relax, you're looking a lot more depressed than I expected, it makes me depressed in turn. What did the headmaster say to you? I saw you going to his office earlier.

  – Oh, you know, he wanted to tug at my ear because of my constant absence. Then he asked me to beat up Alexander and anyone else who makes the school environment a drag for new students.

  Capybara was surprised. It was strange news, not that it was all that new that the teachers were depending on him and his friends to fight bullies at Alexander's behest, but it was a specific request. Also, the young werewolf seemed to feel overwhelmed by it.

  He got up and walked slowly in circles, one moment kicking the dust off the floor for no particular reason, other moment gesturing to himself as he spoke.

  – Almost my whole life I spent here, at the Institute. My years in orphanages were shit, in regular schools shit as similar as orphanages. Here I had a little bit of peace until the damn Alexander showed up, and everything went back to “normal” around me.

  – Hey, calm down...

  – If you tell me to “stay calm” one more time, I'll be fucking angry. I am calm, that's what bothers me. The sameness, the routine, always the same crap, nothing is exciting, nothing really new happens, nothing makes me interested. Shit, even drawing doesn't make me excited, Ferdinand told me earlier I could be an artist because I draw cool stuff, and that didn't light the smallest spark in my emotions.

  – You never said anything like that, not in that tone I guess.

  – I prefer to be silent instead of crying like a bitch. In fact, I'm seriously thinking about leaving the Institute and finding a place in the city, I'm tired of things around here, I don’t care anymore. I have to speak to my lawyer about my inheritance. This will give me an initiative.

  The werewolf sat back down, stretched his body and fixed his eyes on the full moon for a few moments. When he spoke, he sounded a lot calmer.

  – See if you don't spill the beans, got it? I told you these things, but I don't want anyone else to know. I'll stay until the end of this school year, promise, have one more damn prom, and chop the mule once everything is over.

  – You're already an adult, you must know what you're doing with your life, so I’ll keep my mouth shut – Capybara shrugged – I get confused by all this, all this whirlwind that you told me. But nobody's life is that simple after all.

  – You don't even know the half of it... Anyway, come on, let's go, it's late and I want to go to bed. I can barely keep my eyes open here any longer.

  The two got up and left. Capybara forgot to ask his friend how he had access to that door where only the janitor could touch, but concluded that he could ask any other time about it.

  Too bad that time might never come after all.