Saturday Night October 14th, 2025. Eveheart Farmland, Cattlecove, WI.

  “Azlan.”

  Andre opened his eyes. They burned. His skull pounded and his bones ached. His shoulder felt like it’d been put through a blender.

  “Bear…”

  Not a blender. But close enough.

  He looked over at his mom. She sat in his room on one of their dining room chairs. One they made when he was younger. Like the rest of the dining room chairs and tables and house at large. It was fun— they played music and danced. They fenced with the wooden legs of the chairs, pretending they were warriors of a faraway world.

  Things weren’t so fun anymore. And the war he just fought made him want anything but being a warrior for himself.

  “You’re in a period of transitioning. Developing new organs and hormones. You’re growing stronger. Your bodies under immense stress— you probably feel sick. It’s called The Fevering.” Cora said.

  ”What….?” Andre said in a hoarse voice.

  “The Fevering phase will last for a few days. Some people die from it, but you won’t. I swear it.” Cora said.

  ”I don’t understand.” Andre said from a horrifically dry mouth.

  Cora nodded, “Then let me help you. Ask your questions, finally, I will answer.”

  Andre cleared his throat, “What…. what…..What happened to my dad?” He never forgot what she said before he lost consciousness. He’d been waiting years for her to say it.

  Cora— despite her deathly expression, found a way to smile. Her curly black hair, once pulled into a ponytail, was now frizzy and messy as if she’d been walking around the house scratching her scalp clean. “You couldn’t let that one slide, could you?”

  Andre shook his head.

  “Your dad was killed. Sixteen years ago.” Cora replied.

  Andre swallowed loud enough to break the silence. “Because of…. this?” Andre looked down at himself. His left arm was covered in bandages. Deep purple bruises covered his midsection. He could still see the blood and dirt under his nails. He could smell it…

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  Cora shook her head, “Because of man’s greed. That’s something we don’t lose when we become this.”

  “….what even is this?” Andre asked, “How did I kill a bear?” His head spun at the memory. His insides tightened at the sounds as they came in flashes. Teeth and fangs and blood splattering the trees.

  “Andre, you are an Ailouranthrope.” Cora said calmly.

  “Sounds like Lycanthrope…” Andre said.

  “Yes. But, instead of Lupine, we’re—”

  “Feline.” Andre thought back to the memory of his mother’s slitted eyes and fangs….. and the cat trivia and cougar-speak.

  She nodded. “Like me.”

  “…How?”

  “It’s what we are. You’re part of a race of beings that’s existed beside and within mankind forever. Sometimes we lead it as gods—”

  “Anhur and Bastet…” Andre immediately thought back to the many stories of various mythologies his mother read to him as a kid.

  “Sometimes we lead it as simpler beings as well. Currently, we stick to the shadows. We’re not as superior as we once were. It’s not safe…surveillance states, scientific technology, military power is like nothing it’s ever been.”

  Her famous phrase suddenly had a whole new world of meaning.

  Andre sat in silence for a long while after that.

  His mother did the same, just staring. She looked so much older suddenly. Bags hung under her eyes. The crows feet around her eyes clawed deep into her face.

  “Why did you wait so long to tell me?” Andre asked.

  Cora looked down at her hands and shrugged, “You deserved bliss.”

  “…?”

  “There was a chance you never would’ve awakened as an Ailouran. You would’ve been human— a gifted human. I would’ve sent you off to college and you would’ve lived normally.” Cora said.l

  “Now I can’t, you’re saying?” Andre guessed.

  “Now you have to carry the weight of your fathers bastard-crown.” Cora said.

  “What does that m—” Andre rolled over the side of his bed and threw up blood.

  Luckily, there was already a pot there.

  The bears blood splashed against the metal base.

  His mother went on as she appeared at his side, rubbing his back.

  “We Ailourans are not solitary creatures. We work in groups called Prides. Your father— my mate, was the illegitimate son of the most powerful Pride-King in West Africa. Our beginning. He couldn’t assume the throne, so he made his own. He made changes to our world. When we tried to branch out here, things didn’t go as planned. Your father was killed. I escaped while carrying you. Do you understand?”

  Andre continued to throw up before roaring in pain. As he rolled back onto the bed, his body spasmed. He looked down at himself, watching in horror as his body changed. His dark bronze skin gained a smoky blue-black overtone. Leopard-like rosettes appeared on his skin around his shoulders and chest. His muscles expanded unevenly while his bones cracked and popped. His vision went in and out of nocturnal perfection birthing an inhuman migraine.

  “Do you understand?” Cora asked again.

  Andre hissed. It was all he could do as his jaw popped and expanded.

  “You’re all that remains of a kingdom built for revolution. One very powerful people are looking to erase.”