C12 Ryan

We rushed into the house, hoping she wasn’t hurt.

“It’s from your father.” She pulled me aside and handed me a ring with a crest on it. Inside the crest was a wolf. “Your father passed before he could give it to you. They’ve passed it down for generations. There’s more stuff in the attic from your great-grandfathers. I think your father would want you to have it.”

“Ma, you rushed me home for this?” I dragged my hand down my face. “You gave me a heart attack.”

“Just go. You’ll understand once you see it.” I shrugged, frowning, and made my way to the attic.

“Alright, Dad, what’s the story behind this ring? How far back does this go?” I mumbled, pulling down the attic steps. I rubbed the werewolf on the ring again before walking up the steps. A large trunk sat in the corner, surrounded by small boxes labeled ‘MacGregors’. I took one last look at the ring, stuck it on my index finger, and started going through my father’s boxes.

One box was full of old letters to my father and grandfathers going back over a century to ‘Hawthorne.’ Hawthorne. It must be the last name if they were all writing to him. Or her. I cut open a few letters, and they were all about the same. Each letter had its small talk, but the point of the letters was always about protection. What kind of protection? Protection from what? For who? I read a few from each of them lingering on my father’s. Hawthorne never specified what he needed protection from or what my family could do about it. However, the letters from my grandfather and father seemed more urgent and dire. Like he was desperate for them to return somewhere, Ireland maybe.

I grabbed another box to rummage through and found more questions than answers. The next box was full of pictures with names written on the back of them. All the photographs had one of my great-grandfathers, a Hawthorne, and some kind of dignitary. None of my father or grandfather. There were a few pictures of my great grandfathers with groups of people who weren’t dressed quite so fancy. I noticed the ring on their index finger in every shot. I knew my great-grandfather traveled to America from Ireland, but I didn’t realize the family was such a big deal there.

“If our family was such a big deal, why did we leave?” I scratched my head flopping on the floor. “If we were protecting people, something must have gone wrong.” I rambled on to no one. There had to be some answers here.

I saw a picture at the bottom of the box, a sketch really, that paralyzed me. Seven large wolves, too big to be real, with a man and a woman dressed like royalty. I slowly reached for the picture and turned it over. It read ‘Donal Mor O’Brien King of Munster 1182 and his Queen Urlachan Macmurrough of Leinster’. Under that, it said ‘The MacGregor Clan.’ My eyes flew open as I slowly turned the picture back over, realization overcoming me. My family protected kingdoms, not with weapons, with their own hands...paws...claws? I hailed from a family of shapeshifters. How did I not know this? Am I one too? I dropped the picture and scrambled backward, trying to get up, but I tripped on the carpet.

“You ok?”

I stared at the picture lying on the floor, my lips stuck together, and a frog croaking up my throat. “Y-yeah,” barely a whisper came out.

“Ryan?” The steps of the ladder creaked, but I still couldn’t speak. Someone was climbing the ladder fast.

“You ok!” Aria rushed over to me, searching for injuries. “Does anything hurt? Say something.” Aria grabbed my shoulders and tried to shake him. “Ryan, TALK!”

I tried to push the words out, but the air was barely getting through. I raised my trembling hands towards my father’s stuff.

“Uhhh, yeah, I’m def not going over there. I’m black, Ry; we don’t walk toward scary stuff. Well, soldiers at war are the only exception. Let’s get out of this attic before the mama squirrel attacks again.”

I grabbed her arm as she turned to leave and pointed at my father’s things again. “Look.”

“Uhhh, ok, but if mama squirrel attacks me, you’re paying my hospital bills, and if I need any transplants, you are hereby obligated to come forward.” She eased toward the trunk, looking around, arms slightly out to steady her. She crept, tiptoeing toward the chest. She lifted the trunk lid and saw all the awards and medals. Underneath them were old clothes. At the very bottom was a letter. While reading the letter, she found her way to the floor. Breathing heavily, she lowered the letter into her lap.

‘To every firstborn of the MacGregor clan from henceforth,

First, let thee say, thee take pride in the MacGregor name. We are a passionate and robust breed. Full of love to spread joy throughout the Irish lands. The MacGregor clan has always been perceived as a line of protection, but now perception hast changed. We hast proven ourselves to be a strong force, which has caused a great deal of fear across the land. We hast become a source of great terror despite our efforts to bring peace.

For this reason, we, thy family before thee, hast decided to suppress our urge to protect and release our inner strength. Thee pray ye find ways to safeguard without thy rage. Go too far, and the beast won’t stay suppressed. If ever thee sees an urgent need, the beast can be released by spilling the blood of one who harms with immense intent, only a drop is needed. The need to protect is the beast’s call to arms. The next spell thy skin is embraced by the subtle lantern of the moon even the slightest amount thee will turn. The first few times are painful, but thy body will adjust. The feeling of running through the night, wind brushing through thy fur is enough to forget the surprise of a sudden shift. Wish thee all the luck and pray one day the clan returns to its full glory.’

“Oh, Ry.” She lowered her head and noticed the picture of the wolves with the king and queen. “You’re the firstborn, and you...”

She didn’t finish her sentence; she just turned to face him. He noticed her red puffy eyes glossing over.

“Are you afraid of me now?”

“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t scary, but that’s just because it's unknown territory. Based on this letter, it sounds like your family was in full control when they turned. The question is how long it takes to get that way or if it’s immediate.”

“Let me see the letter.” I got to my feet and grabbed the letter, rushing through it. “Dorien, DAMMNIT!” I gritted my teeth and balled my hands into fists, punching the air. “If I had known beating his ass would turn me into a monster, I would have tried to reign in my rage!” Aria wrapped her arms around herself, pulling her head down as close to her arms as she could. I stepped closer to her but stopped when I heard her sniffle. “Aria?”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then why are you crying?”