Fenrir sat alone in the crumbling room that barely passed for a home. The walls were thin. The floor, cold. The ceiling leaked in one corner. He stared blankly at the ground, and the longer he sat there, the heavier everything felt.
He needed out.
He pulled on a pair of worn boots, scuffed, too big, and missing laces. He stood and pushed the creaky door open. Light stabbed at his eyes, making him flinch. For a brief second, the world was too bright. But then the dull grey of the slums filled his vision, and everything went back to being... bleak.
The streets were cracked and uneven, the buildings mismatched and barely holding together. Around him, people walked with slumped shoulders and tired eyes. Most of them looked like him. Animal ears, tails and cheap clothes.
Beast kin. That's what they were called.
He didn't know how he knew that. It came from the memories that belonged to this body, to the real Fenrir. Beast kin were considered lesser. Not because they were actually lesser, but because the dominant race, the humans, decided they were. No rights. No money. No place.
Just the slums.
Fenrir grimaced.
Racism.
"Is this karma?" he whispered to himself, a bitter smirk on his face.
With nothing better to do, he decided to explore. Maybe he'd find something cool, some hidden shop, an alleyway with old trinkets, anything to break up the grey.
He wandered for a while. Saw more of the same. Poverty, quiet despair, people who had stopped expecting things to get better. Then, something worse. A body.
Half-rotted. Flies buzzing. Maggots writhing.
He gagged, stumbling back. If he'd eaten anything, it wouldn't have stayed down.
He kept walking. Didn't look back.
Eventually, he turned toward the only thing in the distance that didn't feel dead: the city he'd glimpsed last night. Past the grime and broken buildings, it shimmered faintly—real streets, real buildings, real life. Bright. Clean. Alive.
He started toward it, boots crunching against gravel.
As he made his way toward the real city, Fenrir noticed the dullness around him beginning to fade. The colors of the world shifted, slowly transitioning from the grey and brown tones of the slums to lighter shades. The grime that clung to the walls seemed to thin out, and the air felt fresher, less heavy.
He also started to see the people changing. Back in his part of the city, the beast kin had been the majority—ears that twitched nervously, tails that swayed or drooped with fatigue. But now, as he walked further, the streets were filled with more humans. Their faces were different, too. They didn't carry the same heaviness in their eyes. They looked at him and his kind like they were just another part of the background.
Fenrir frowned. Were beast kin so rare here? It didn't make sense. 'I guess my kind is less populous here…'
The buildings around him began to change, too. The cracked, rotting structures he was used to faded into better-kept buildings. The once-collapsing houses were replaced by stronger, sturdier walls. The streets were cleaner. Not a big improvement from his part of the slums, but definitely an improvement.
Eventually, Fenrir stopped seeing beast kin at all. The humans stared at him, most with a barely hidden hate in their eyes. He felt uneasy, but he didn't put his head down. He was too proud for that.
In front of him, in the distance Fenrir saw a sort of checkpoint. Two armoured humans stood guarding it. He saw their faces turn harsh once their eyes set on him
As Fenrir got closer, they got tenser. Eventually they had their hands on the hilt of their weapons.
"State your business", Guard One barked.
"Just taking a walk", Fenrir replied, trying to sound casual.
"Slums are that way"
"I know, I came from there"
"Good, turn back"
"Why? Am I not allowed into the city?" Fenrir asked. He was feeling pissed now.
"Not without reason", he gave Fenrir a once over. "You don't have any paperwork either, turn back".
Fenrir bared his fangs unintentionally, he wasn't used to being treated this way. Why were these guys being so difficult?
"Didn't know walking was a crime", Fenrir said looking at the guards sharply.
"You being near us is a crime", Guard Two sneered.
"The fuck did you just say to me!?" Fenrir yelled. He was causing a scene, people had gathered around them. He could hear people murmuring "dirty dog", "filthy beast" and the works.
A solid second of silence ensued.
The crowd was murmuring, the guards' hands tightening on their weapons, but Fenrir didn't care anymore.
"There's a reason you bums are stuck guarding the ass-end of the city with me. Fat-ass, pig-faced pieces of shit"
Gasps. A couple snickers. The guards took a step forward, but Fenrir was already backing off, hands raised mockingly.
"Relax. I'm walking away, see? No crime in that, right?"
He turned, tail flicking behind him.
"Not like you monkeys could walk two steps without breathing heavy"
…
The tension hadn't left his body by the time he was halfway back. The alley he took was quiet. too quiet…
His ears twitched. He stopped walking.
Then came the sound of boots on gravel.
"Well, well. Look what we've got here."
Three humans emerged from the shadows. 'Corny ass dialogue, I'm definitely boutta get jumped'
"Wolf-Kin, right?" one of them said, spinning a pipe in his hand. "Heard that pelt of yours is worth something. Especially if you keep the ears intact."
Fenrir's eyes narrowed. "Take another step and I'll scalp your bitchass"
Laughter.
"The dog really does bark. Ever since that bitch Regent outlawed killing your kind, you things got real mouthy. But she ain't got eyes down here."
Fenrir's body moved before he could think. His instincts, sharper than ever, took over as he sidestepped the first swing, a crude pipe aimed at his head. His response was immediate. A quick jab to the gut, followed by a punch to the face. The thug he hit staggered back, blood dribbling from his broken nose. Fenrir grinned, the rush of the fight coursing through him.
"Nice try you fucking loser"
But it didn't stay that way. The others were quick to recover, and the odds of three on one finally started to show. One of the thugs swung his pipe again, this time clipping Fenrir's ribs. Pain shot through him, but he barely flinched. His body still felt stronger than it had been before, even though his stomach ached from hunger.
'malnourished my ass! I'm stronger than I was in my previous life!'
Fenrir's grin widened, but it didn't last. A solid punch to his jaw snapped his head back. He stumbled, vision blurring for a second, and before he could regain his balance, another thug lunged at him, slamming an elbow into his back. Fenrir gasped as the air was knocked out of him.
But the anger welled up, and he fought back with everything he had. His teeth sank into one thug's arms, and the man yelped in pain as Fenrir tore into the muscle. Blood filled his mouth, and he growled, refusing to let go. The thug shoved him away, clutching his bleeding arm.
The fight was becoming messier. More blows rained down. Fenrir felt himself weakening, his body already straining under the brutal assault. A kick to the side sent him tumbling sideways, his body slamming into a couple of water-filled barrels.
The thugs laughed, a sickening sound.
Fenrir tried to get up, but one of the bastards grabbed his hair, jerking his head back violently. The thug yanked him forward and slammed his face into the barrel.
'No… no way…'
His face hit the water with a splash, and immediately, his breath was cut off. His heart pounded. He thrashed, trying to push back, but the thug's grip tightened, forcing his face deeper into the barrel. The water was cold, thick, almost suffocating. Panic bubbled up inside of Fenrir.
He gasped, a mistake as water filled his mouth. His lungs burned as water filled them. Not only that, but he started hearing whispers, not from the humans but from elsewhere.
That didn't matter right now, he needed to do something. Quick.
Fenrir's hands shot out towards the back of his head. His sharp nails clawed at the flesh of the man holding him down, rending it deeply. With the scream of the man as a sign, Fenrir's head rose up out of the barrel.
He looked feral, pupils small, snarl on his face and hair wild.
Fenrir looked at the three humans. They looked terrified, and then, Fenrir smelt something. Perhaps due to his wolf kin heritage, or maybe something else. But he smelt their fear.
He grinned. The thugs screamed and stumbled backwards trying to run away.
Fenrir lunged at the one human he had left unharmed, the one he hadn't bitten or punched in the mouth.
He grabbed his leg, and tore his Achilles tendon. The man fell down face first with a scream.
The scumbag actually grabbed both of his friends' ankles, causing them to fall over with him.
Seeing this scene, everything slowed down for Fenrir. Then he heard a voice.
"Interesting"
With that, he felt something surge in him. Then he uttered a phrase he knew very well. The voice urged him to say it.
"Surge forth, Tides Edge"
And with that, blades of water erupted, slicing into the nearby building before arcing towards the humans.
They were then cleaved in two, their screams cut short.
As Fenrir breathed heavily, he noticed why he knew the phrase.
After all, it was the first spell he and Alex had created for their story.
Water and blood mixed beneath him, swirling on the dirt floor. He caught his reflection in the puddle.
Blue eyes stared back.
And behind him a figure. Hooded and Holy. Watching.
But in reality there was no one behind him. It was most likely a trick of the oxygen deprived mind.
Fenrir looked at the now corpses, and promptly fainted. Perhaps it was due to the blood loss, lack of oxygen or maybe even the magic.