She was born in the North with the name of Silas (for her father had wanted a boy) with grey fur as soft as new-fallen snow and wide amber eyes. She was the light of her father's life, and all a mother could ask for. But one day, misfortune raised its ugly head and enclosed the family in its maw. The War Queen was coming!
It was early afternoon, when Silas was swaddled in cloth and taken by her mother deeper into the woods. Her mother, Brushtail, laid Silas by a rotting long, and covered her in tall soft ferns. Brushtail then took a slip of paper and the only item of value she possessed; an uncut ruby, from her apron pocket. She laid these both by Silas, gathered the ferns closer around her daughter, and ran away. The War Queen was coming!
Fallow, a weasel Captain, sheathed his falchion and kicked a dead rat out of his way. He watched his troops burning down huts and destroying dwellings, muttering, "Plunder? More like lowly o' worms." He bent down, plucking a metal ring from the grass. "'Ello, wot's this? Not much, but it'll do." He slid it up on his middle claw. A commotion made him turn. A small force of shrews were ferociously fighting with loaded slings. He smiled wolfishly, saying "Won't be much left of you lot, once the Queen comes." As if on cue, a loud drawn-out howl rebounded eerily off the tree trunks, causing a lull in the fighting. Cresting a hill, the onlookers saw the biggest vixen ever to walk the earth. She was a beautiful golden-red, barbarically garbed in a white pelt war-dress from some long slain enemy. She wore a metal helmet forged to look like a skull, with matching breastplate and gauntlets. She wielded a broadsword, which she slung about her head with great gusto. she howled out again, sending shivers down the spines of even her own troops. The War Queen had arrived!
BOOK ONE: A CUB NO MORE CHAPTER 1
Silas awoke, breathing fast. What did it mean? She had had the strangest of dreams. She closed her eyes, and tried to relive it.
She was helpless, paralyzed. She saw a fuzzy shape of a fox gathering ferns about Silas. Was she trying to hide her? Silas tried to call out, but couldn't. The fox faded from her view, strangely leaving Silas sad. Her vision faded to black, with only a ruby glinting in the darkness. she knew that same gem, every uncut edge and facet. it was the ruby she wore about her neck for as long as she could remember. The darkness cleared, and she was back in the ferns, though the sunlight piercing through told her it was much later. She saw the War Queen, her own mother, peer through the ferns and pick her up. Captain Fallow was with her. He made as if to strike at Silas, but the Queen stayed him. "She has beautiful fur. Regal eyes." She said, her voice as sweet as honey. "I will raise her as my own."
Silas got out of bed. What did it mean? Surely, the Queen was her mother. Wasn't she? Silas shook her grey head and dressed. "Too much work and food has set me out of sorts." She muttered. It was almost silly how ridiculous the dream was. She laughed a high lovely laugh that would have left no creature in doubt of her merriment. But she knew that she was confused...and that scared her.
Silas was a healthy cub of nine or ten seasons, and had grown a wonderfully long pelt of light ash grey. Her eyes glittered with youth, and no beast on the entire Isle of Kilnn could outrun her. She was striking to look at. Beneath all the fur was a slender muscular frame, one attained from long hours of practice in the armory. Being the daughter of a War Queen was no stroll in the forest!
There were others too: the Queen's own flesh and blood. She had three children, each with dark rust-red fur and long, distinguished ears. They were taller, stronger, and older than Silas, and each was vicious and hot-tempered. There was the oldest, Reynard, 12 seasons old. He was barbaric and lusted for battle, like his mother. He carried about a longsword made by the slaves on the east end of the Isle. Then there was Grimm, a sardonic male fox who preferred to carry a lighter version of the longsword. He was quiet, but had a wit and a silver tongue when used. Last, was Anja. She was a vicious maiden who carried about a bow, though she was an amateur when using it. She was spoiled and liked to degrade the servants that obeyed her every command- or die.
All of these were what Silas wasn't. She was a savage, and only trusted herself and her mother, but was not quick to lash out. She had incredible endurance, from being raised by her heathen family. She was a wild card, in short, but that did not stop her from trying to impress.
Silas walked down the corridor from her room, heading for the large courtyard door. It was at the end of the hall, and with some effort, she managed to heave the door open. She stepped out into the warm sunlight, which was a pleasant change from the blustery autumn weather. Spreg, a grizzled water rat, saw Silas, making her way to her with a battle axe in her paw. Spreg was the unofficial armory master on Kilnn Isle, and knew how to successfully use every weapon in her extensive collection. "Yer late, Mistress. Yer siblings have been practicing since dawn. Get out there!"
"You have no right to carry around my axe." Silas said. "Give it here."
Spreg obeyed, though she uttered a low grunt of disapproval. Silas bared her teeth at the rat. Spreg turned around, yelling out instruction to the other foxes. Silas looked lovingly down at her axe. The hilt was beautifully carved from rosewood, with a metal end and top. It was a double-headed axe of star metal, which had fallen from the heavens six seasons ago. Only a select few possessed weapons of star metal. Captains Rigbar, Gerrofo, and Yudan, Captain Firol, the Queen's personal eyes over the seas, Silas, and Grimm.