The Legends of the Lost Fables: Book 1: The Huntsman Rebellion
Written By Andrew M. Foster
(Chapter One: The Brothers of Lycan Manor)
The world that humans know is only half of the truth. Their eyes see streets, shops, and forests, but they do not see the shadows between them, nor the things that breathe and whisper inside those shadows. That hidden world has a name, "Fableville". It exists parallel to every human town, layered over the same streets and neighborhoods like paint over canvas. Fairy-tale creatures, witches, ogres, sprites, trolls, and countless others walk among humankind, unseen. And they would remain unseen—so long as they drank the one thing that cloaked them from mortal eyes: the Fable Potion. But the potion came at a cost, and recently, that cost was climbing. The Lycan Brothers. Three figures padded silently through the fog-dampened streets of Fableville, their boots crunching softly against cobblestone. Even in human form, they walked like wolves—alert, cautious, their senses sharper than most creatures would dare to imagine. At the center strode Brasco Lycan, broad-shouldered, his gray-streaked hair tied back, and his eyes heavy with the responsibility of command. To his left was Leviticus Lycan, better known as Lev, younger by only a few years, leaner, sharper in tongue and wit, the one whose voice often soothed when Brosco's commands burned too hot. On the right walked Lance, the youngest, still restless with youthful energy, his amber eyes darting to every shadow like a pup eager for the next chase. Together, they were known as the Lycan Brothers, The Last guardians of Fableville, enforcers of the laws that kept fairy-tale creatures hidden from human sight.Tonight, their task was simple….or so they thought. Their destination was a crooked little home on the edge of Fableville's market quarter. Its shutters hung half-broken, and a lantern swayed above the door, throwing uneven light across the cobblestones. Inside lived Argol, a troll-blooded cobbler with tusk-like teeth, long arms, and eyes like dull glass marbles. He had been reported again for neglecting to take his Fable Potion. Brasco rapped his fist against the warped wooden door. "Argol," he barked, voice gravelly. "It's the Lycans. Open up." The door creaked open a crack, then wider. Argol peered out, his features already shifting faintly monstrous now that the potion's veil was fading. His nose had grown bulbous, his skin blotched green & gray. "Evenin', Brothers," Argol said, his tone oddly cheerful but nervous. "Didn't think I'd be seein' you so soon." Lev stepped forward, folding his arms. "You know why we're here. Your child human neighbors saw your reflection in their window again. You're slipping, Argol. If the humans catch so much as a glimpse"! I know, I know." Argol raised his long hands in surrender. Your lucky the parents thought the child had a active imagination again said Leviticus. "But you try buyin' enough of that cursed brew! Price has near doubled, and it don't even last me a full day anymore. My coin pouch's emptier than a sprite's conscience." Lev studied him. Argol wasn't lying; his clothes were patched, his home reeked of damp leather scraps. His children's shoes were stacked by the fire, small and worn thin. Still, Lev's voice was steady. "Whether it lasts a day or an hour, you can't risk exposure. The humans are not ready to know about us. They panic when they see shadows Argol. What do you think they'd do if they saw you as you are?" Argol's tusked mouth trembled. "Maybe they should know. Maybe it's time. Why should we all bleed our purses dry just to stay hidden?" A tense silence filled the crooked house. Brosco's eyes narrowed, but Lev lifted a hand before his brother could speak. "We'll talk to the witches who brew the potion," Lev promised, his tone softer now. "I'll make them answer for why the potion's thinning, why the price keeps rising. But until then, Argol… keep your family safe. Drink what you can, and keep inside if you can't. I don't want to see your little ones hunted because you chose pride over protection." Argol's shoulders sagged. He nodded, defeated. "Aye. I'll do as you say." Lev's gaze softened, but only slightly. "Good. Now take some before you step out again." The brothers turned and left, stepping back into the fog-choked street. The night air was sharp with autumn chill. Somewhere in the distance, a clocktower struck midnight….. Then…. A shriek split the silence. High above, a winged silhouette slashed across the moon, enormous and leathery, with talons glinting and eyes burning red. Its wings beat like thunder, and the sound rattled the glass in nearby windows. Lance drew his dagger in an instant. "What in the name of the Fables was that?" The creature hovered for a heartbeat, then loosed another bone-splitting screech before vanishing into the black sky, its shadow swallowed by the clouds. Lev's pulse pounded. He turned to his brothers, his voice low. "Tell me I'm not the only one who saw that." Brosco's face was stone, his jaw clenched tight. "We all saw it, Lance whispered, still gripping his blade, "but we don't know what it was said brasco." The three of them stood in the street, breath misting in the cold, staring into the dark where the creature had vanished. By the time they reached Lycan Manor, the ancestral stone house of their pack, fatigue weighed heavy on them. Inside, the grand hall was lined with wolf-headed banners, the hearth burning low. Their duties for the night were done. The log day of locking up wayward creatures, silencing brawls, and ensuring order. But the shadow of the bat-beast lingered in each of their minds.Lev sat at the long oak table, running his hands through his dark hair. "It wasn't just any Fable. That thing… it felt older. Wrong." Brasco poured himself a drink, staring into the fire. "We'll keep our eyes open. Whatever it was, it's not our fight yet." Yet. That word carried too much weight. Morning came with weak sunlight through the stained-glass windows of the manor. Lev woke to the murmur of a crystal screen broadcasting the Fable News Network. Lance stood frozen in front of it, pale as ash. "Lev," he whispered. "You need to see this." On the screen, a reporter stood before a cordoned-off alley. Behind her, scorch marks blackened the stone walls, and clawed gouges marred the cobblestone."A local Fable was found attacked last night," the reporter announced grimly. "Witnesses claim a winged creature swooped from the skies. Authorities have yet to identify it. The victim survived but remains in critical condition." The image shifted to a blurred sketch. Bat-like wings, glowing eyes, a beast that matched exactly what the brothers had seen. Lev's blood ran cold. The bat-creature was real.
And it had already begun its hunt.