The Lycan King's Obsession

I, Valerio, Lycan King, a Monstrous Beast.

I could no longer lie to myself.

Today, my strength was failing me.

Slowly.

Inexorably.

My legs almost refused to move forward, yet I kept running, driven by a will that did not really belong to me anymore. My body moved by instinct, like a machine whose mechanism still refused to stop even though everything else had already shut down.

I was nothing more than a fleeing carcass.

The poison was patiently finishing its work. I could feel it progressing through my veins, chipping away at what was left of my strength. My muscles burned under the effort, my breath broke with every inhalation, and each one seemed to lacerate my chest a little more. Every step became a torment, every stride a defiance thrown at a body that no longer wanted to respond.

In the distance, I could hear them.

The soldiers.

Their voices echoed between the trees, accompanied by the regular clatter of their armor and their boots crushing dead leaves. They advanced without rushing.

Why would they have?

They knew I wouldn’t get much further.

Their mission was simple.

Find me.

And finish me off.

Yet, this was not the first time I had been hunted. Over the centuries, countless warriors had dreamed of carving their names into History by bringing down the Lycan King. None had succeeded.

But this time...

This time, I was at my limit.

My foot struck a root hidden beneath the leaves. My balance gave way instantly. I collapsed heavily, face-first against the damp earth.

A searing pain shot through my flank.

Right where the blade had pierced me.

A groan escaped me as my fingers sank into the mud.

I remained motionless for a few seconds, unable to stand up. Then, with a final effort, I rolled slowly onto my back.

My gaze lost itself in the sky.

It was beautiful.

A deep blue that was gradually fading beneath the orange hues of twilight. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the hills.

The day was dying.

And I with it.

I knew it.

The poison had silenced the beast that slumbered within me. No more regeneration. No more supernatural strength. My wounds continued to bleed without my body even attempting to close them.

My blood was slowly leaving my body.

As if it already knew it had no reason left to stay.

I then replayed in my mind the fragments of a long life. An existence forged in blood, battles, and sacrifices. Every victory had left a scar. Every defeat had torn away a part of myself. Nothing had ever been given to me. Everything had to be conquered.

I had triumphed where others had failed, defied destiny, defied the gods themselves at times. Defended my people against countless enemies. Worn a crown whose weight had often been heavier than any armor.

I had done my duty.

At least... that was what History would remember of me.

Yet, at the threshold of death, this glory no longer held any value.

It did not warm the heart.

It did not fill the void.

I let out a trembling breath.

Was this how the story of the Lycan King was meant to end?

Alone.

Lying in the mud.

Hunted like an animal whose only fault had been to survive longer than the others.

I slowly closed my eyes.

A single question remained.

The only one that still made sense.

Had I been happy?

I searched my memory as one searches the ruins of a burned house, hoping to find a fragment of happiness. But not a single image brought forth that strange warmth that men called happiness.

No...

I had never encountered it.

All my life, I had existed for others.

Yet...

In the midst of this darkness, a few shards of light refused to disappear.

I saw myself as a child again.

At that time, the world seemed infinitely vaster than it actually was. Every forest hid a dragon, every hill promised an adventure, and I was convinced that one day my name would be sung by all the bards of the kingdom.

At eight years old, I had made a sword out of two pieces of wood clumsily tied together. Proud as a true knight, I had marched through the village announcing that I was going to rid the world of all monsters.

My first opponent turned out to be... a goose.

A demonic creature, if you asked my opinion.

It had chased me from one end of the village to the other while I ran screaming, leaving my sword behind me beneath the bursts of laughter from the villagers.

A smile stretched across my lips despite myself.

Later, as a teenager, I had hardly gained any dignity. Convinced I would become a great magician, I had tried to impress my friends by making a flame appear in my hand. The only problem was that the flame chose my sleeve as fuel. A few seconds later, I was diving headfirst into a watering trough under the bewildered eyes of everyone who had witnessed the spectacle.

Thinking back on it, a faint smile crossed my lips. At least, back then, my greatest battles ended with a few bruises and a lot of shame.

Then, in a final surge of lucidity, I thought of her. Of my mother. Of her gentle but worried gaze. Of her trembling hands placed against my childish cheeks.

Around my neck still rested her final gift.

By reflex, my hand brushed the amulet hidden beneath my tunic. .

My fingers met the object she had given me so many years ago. Despite the cold that was slowly numbing my body, the black stone seemed to have retained a strange warmth. I squeezed it gently in my palm, as if this simple contact were still enough to connect me to her.

I remembered perfectly the day she entrusted it to me.

I was still young, far too young to understand the worry hidden behind her smile. She had knelt before me, with that expression I only understood many years later. Her hands trembled as she delicately tied the chain behind my neck. A tear had slipped down her cheek, but she had hurried to wipe it away before I could ask her a single question.

The amulet was deceptively simple. A stone of a deep black, almost as dark as a moonless night, rested at the center of a silver ring engraved with ancient symbols. Yet, despite its modest appearance, it exuded a singular presence.

My mother then placed a hand against my cheek.

— This amulet will bring you good luck, my son.

Her voice was gentle, but imbued with a strange gravity.

— It will guide you to your true reason for living. It will show you what you seek deep within yourself... but only when you think you have lost everything. The day you give up all hope, it will become your light in the darkness. And I know this will become your priority.

At that age, I had seen nothing more in her words than a beautiful story told by a mother to her child.

But my mother never made up tales.

She was a seer, my mother. One of those whose visions came true, even if sometimes too late. But as my life neared its twilight, I realized the prophecy had never been fulfilled. Yet she had never failed, and I wondered, had I even been happy? Had I found that famous “reason for living” she had promised me? No…

But perhaps I would find her again, up there.

This simple thought brought a strange, almost surreal peace within me.

If the prophecy had never been fulfilled down here, perhaps I would finally find my answers beyond the veil. Perhaps after an entire life spent fighting, I could finally lay down my weapons. Perhaps there existed, somewhere, a place where kings no longer had to bear the weight of a kingdom, where warriors were no longer condemned to fight.

I no longer had the strength to go on.

Even my claws remained trapped in their human form. They had always responded to my slightest instinct. Today, they refused to come out. The beast had already departed with the poison.

Then, with a trembling hand, I slowly slid my fingers to the hilt of my dagger.

This blade had accompanied me through a large part of my existence. It had crossed countless battles by my side without ever betraying me. J’avais juré de ne la dégainer qu’en cas de véritable nécessité.

I understood that this moment had come.

They had spent years wanting my head.

They would not have it.

I refused to offer them this victory.

I preferred to choose my own end rather than surrender this final fragment of freedom to them.

My fingers tightened around the hilt.

The steel felt surprisingly warm in my palm.

Slowly, I raised the blade and placed its tip against my chest, just above my heart. I took a long breath. The wind caressed my face one last time while the final rays of the sun pierced through the branches above me.

So this was how it all ended.

I closed my eyes.

Then I pressed.

The songs of the forest vanished one after the other. The wind ceased to blow. The voices of my pursuers faded into an absolute silence.

Everything dissolved into a deep black, of an almost surreal softness. I no longer felt my body. No more pain. No more cold. Even the weight of the crown had finally left my shoulders.

I was falling.

And, for the first time in a very long time...

I was at peace.

“Thank you for reading this chapter! Your comments help me enormously to improve the story and to know what you feel while reading it. Please feel free to share your reactions, even in just a few words.”