The sun shone brightly on the Kingdom of Kindlock on a fine Monday morning. A gentle breeze swept all the orange, crispy autumn leaves off the streets of the village. The sun shone brightly through one of the windows of the 70-foot-tall, stone castle. The family that lived there, the Astito-Ralls, were quite fitting to be royals: kind, caring, and righteous. The only one who might have been considered not fit to be a royal would have been Mac. He was the eldest child of Stephanie and Oakley, the current Queen and King. He was 35 years old, and had been on his way to become King, until the incident happened.

Mac stood in his cell: musty and very dusty. It smelled of dead rats and mold. The wooden ceiling looked as if it would collapse any second, and for some reason, was always damp. He took a seat on his bed, thinking about what it must be like outside, on this Monday morning. Sunny, rainy, it didn’t matter to him, or any of the skeletons inhabiting their cells. The dungeon which he was in had multiple cells, ten in total. It stretched like a long hallway, with five cells on each side of it. As for amenities, each cell contained only a small hole for one to defecate, a bed, and a candle which was never ignited. The window which was at the end of the hallway was always closed, allowing almost no light to pass through. On cloudy days, he barely got any light at all. 

He adjusted his position on his bed, which was ripped almost to shreds. When the sound of locks unlatching echoed through the almost empty dungeon, he stood up and stepped towards the metal bars. Eric walked into the dungeon, wearing his usual white and gold outfit. He carried a bowl full of what looked like porridge, but he did not bring along a spoon. 

“Hello, brother,” Eric said, with an overly-confident voice. Mac could tell he was not comfortable in the dungeon.

“Would it kill you to call me Mac?” Mac replied. He despised the fact that he was now referred to as “Brother”, only because of his place in the family.

“I brought you food,” Eric said, disregarding Mac’s request. “I will be crowned King on Friday. I thought you might want to know”.

Mac’s blood began to boil. Did Eric only come down here to boast? Mac was supposed to be crowned King five years back. In Kindlock, when the eldest child is 30, they are crowned as the new King or Queen. Mac was supposed to be King, but because of his “curse”, they were not able to crown him.

Mac decided to let go of that topic, and try to tell Eric once again. 

“Please Eric, you have to listen to me! Rigby is-”

“Save it. Rigby is our cousin. Do you really think that he would want to kill me? Of all people, me? I’m starting to get tired of your bickering about this,” Eric said. He was clearly skeptical about all of this. 

Mac tried again. “Eric. Rigby is plotting to have you killed. He is 29 years old, which means that if he can kill you after you are crowned, he can take the throne almost right away. I- I- I do not know how he will, but I do know that he will try. You have to banish him, or at least make sure to keep an eye on him! Please, I beg you!”  

Rigby, their cousin, didn’t know, nor care, about the fact that Mac was down in the dungeon. In all the years that Mac was in his cell, Rigby would come down at times to plot plans, and have some alone time. A few weeks back, Mac heard him plotting his plan to take the throne himself. Sadly, he still didn’t know how Rigby was going to do that.

“I can’t banish people yet, Brother. And even if I could, I would never banish a member of my family. Other than maybe you, of course,” Eric said, mockingly.

Mac knew that Eric didn’t have the nerve to banish him. Mac still persisted.

“Listen, I can help! Just-”

“SILENCE YOURSELF!” Eric yelled. “I CANNOT LET YOU OUT BECAUSE YOU ARE A CANINE! IT ISN’T MY FAULT THAT YOU CAN’T CONTROL YOURSELF! YOU KNOW WHAT CAN HAPPEN IF I LET YOU OUT!” After scoffing a few times quietly to himself, he left the room, without saying a word. He slammed the door shut, leaving Mac in awkward silence, and almost pitch-black darkness. 

It was true, though. The last time Mac was in his Canine form outside of his cell was 20 years ago. He was 15 and unexpectedly turned into a Canine. Another word the people of Kindlock use for Canine might be ‘Werewolf’. When Mac turned into a Canine, his human senses dimmed. He went on survival mode and developed wolf instincts. Every week of a full moon, he turned during the night. In the morning, everything that happened felt hazy, like a dream. Lately, he had been trying to control his Canine form. Trying to stay conscious and in control of his body. He knew that all he had to do was channel enough energy and willpower into it, but he still couldn’t get his senses to overcome his Canine senses. When he turned, all he could think about was meat, and when his next hunt would be…

He woke up to the sound of the door’s locks unlatching. He had been asleep, but as he didn’t have a clock in the dungeon, he didn’t know for how long. This time, though, Rigby and an unknown guest came in. Rigby is coming in to plan again, as it seems. Mac hid behind his bed, hiding out of plain sight, as Rigby and the guest closed the door behind them and walked into the middle of the room.

“Did you get my letter, Magnus?” Rigby said to the guest, in a quieter tone.

“Yes, King Rigby. I got your letter, along with the map of Kindlock Castle,” said the guest, who Mac now knew as Magnus.

“Do you know which tower is west?” Rigby asked Magnus.

“Yes, the one facing the stands, is it?” Magnus responded.

“On Friday night, around a minute after Eric is crowned king, you will shoot him right in the chest, from the top of the west tower. After that, leave. Make sure to not be seen, as people might become suspicious,” Rigby said to Magnus. “Get out of here now, and make sure to never run into me again. After the deed is done, don’t come and find me.” 

He handed Magnus a pair of keys, “These are for a country home I own in Canada. You can live there permanently, and start a new life.”

Mac now knew what Rigby was planning. Eric would never listen. Mac needed to come up with something quick. He thought he had a plan. He got to work right away.

It had been four-and-a-half days since Mac found out about Rigby’s plans. To any other person, the situation would have been hopeless. Someone else would have suffered, surrendered, and cried in defeat. Not Mac. He remembered one of his biggest pet peeves of his cell: the leaky ceiling. By now, it was probably moldy enough to smash through. He punched it a few times. He would need more power than just himself to break through that wood. Luckily for him, he had a furry friend who could do just that...

Friday was now upon them… 

A few floors above him, Eric was getting ready for his big day: the day he would be crowned king. He had always felt a certain envy towards his brother. The fact that Mac would become King, and that he would always just have to settle for Prince. It didn’t seem fair to him. He thought that the position of King should be won, not inherited. As he looked into the mirror, he smiled to himself. He had won the game. He had, against all odds, become the 17th King of Kindlock. 

Then, he thought of Mac. He cared for him deeply, although he never showed it. Nor did he like to admit it to himself. It was true, though. He counted up every day of each month and kept track of when each week of a full moon would come. He looked outside and saw the full moon begin to show itself, as evening was drawing closer by the minute. 

Magnus kneeled on the west tower of Kindlock castle, crossbow in hand. He eyed the crowd, all those puny villagers, excited for their new King. He thought it was ironic how, merely seconds after Eric was crowned King, he would be dead. He pulled his crimson hood over his long, shaggy hair, and gripped his crossbow tighter. Then, he inserted a thin, wooden arrow with a steel tip into the crossbow. All he had to do was wait for Eric to step outside and give his speech. He held the loaded crossbow tightly in his hand, and chuckled slightly, as the full moon grew bigger and brighter by the minute.

Mac was waiting. Was it night yet? Is this week a full moon? He didn’t even know anymore. He had to turn into his Canine form. It wasn’t happening, though. He paced around his tiny cell. Was Eric dead? Had he just failed? And then, he felt something. It felt like a pinch in his stomach at first, and then he got a headache. He sat on his bed and grabbed his head with his hands. It hurt so much! Out of sheer pain, he got up and punched the wall. He felt his snout grow bigger, and all of a sudden, he could smell everyone in the castle. Even Magnus. 

His ears grew bigger, and he could hear the sound of people walking on the floors above him, and he heard Eric’s voice faintly in the background. He was alive! Then, he felt a surge of power going through him. He had successfully turned into a Canine. His vision began to blur, and he slowly began to lose consciousness. He knew that he was aware of himself, but he was merely watching what he was doing, like a dream. He thought about what was important: Eric will die, Eric will die! 

It wasn’t working. He needed to try something else. He slowly drifted from his consciousness, into a kaleidoscopic gallery of memories. He tried to remember any nice memories of Eric, but he was too distracted. Then, he remembered: He and Eric, playing hide and seek in the castle. He knew the castle very well. Inside and outside, like the back of his hand, he used to say. He remembered when they were in the west tower of the castle. Specifically, the balcony. This balcony had never been finished. It started being built 30 years ago, but was still under construction. It hadn’t been touched, since the wooden platform was still hanging from the roof of the castle. It was kind of like those window-washer platforms, and whenever they stood on it, it would wobble, like a rope bridge. They used to call it the Rope Balcony. Anyways, there was this one time where he and Eric were playing hide and seek, and Eric was hiding on the balcony. This was a dangerous move, but they were children and didn’t know any better. When Mac found him, Eric tried to run off the balcony and back into the castle but slipped and almost fell off the balcony. If Mac didn’t grab his arm at the last second, Eric would have died.

Then Mac began imagining what his life would be like without Eric. All the ups and downs, all the fun times, all the drama, would have been non-existent. He began to feel emotion for this. And repeated in his head: I will save Eric, I will save Eric, I will save Eric. Then, he felt himself become conscious again. This feeling was unlike anything ever before. He felt powerful, and completely in control. He stopped for a second and smelled the fresh celebratory cakes being made in the kitchen upstairs. He heard clapping from outside and realized that Eric was now on stage.

He looked up at the ceiling. With a slash of his powerful claws, he broke off large pieces of the planks, revealing a horrid smell and more rot than he would know what to do with. He took another slash at the wood, weakening the planks even more. Then, with his powerful legs, he jumped as high as he could, smashing right through the remaining planks. 

He was now in a little cupboard under the stairs. He ran out of there, into the main castle area. After running past some guards, he ran in the direction of the west tower, and looked around the castle on the way. Everything had changed in the 20 years that he was in the dungeon. The original furniture had been replaced, and there were a bunch of new paintings on the walls. One of them, in particular, caught his eye. A picture of Stephanie, Oakley, Eric... and Rigby, where Mac should’ve been. Oh, how much he hated Rigby. He kept running, following the scent of musty, unwashed hair. After running to the top floor, he jumped on the roof and looked straight at Magnus. He charged right at him, causing Magnus to miss his shot, and shoot Eric in the arm instead of the chest. Magnus loaded his crossbow with another arrow and fired at Mac, hitting his right arm. Mac fell to the ground but got back up right away. Magnus jumped onto a lower part of the roof and began climbing the tallest tower: the watchtower. Mac began to climb after him, only to be kicked in the face. 

When they both reached the top of the tower, Magnus charged at Mac. He was strong for a human, almost as strong as Mac. He clenched his fist and hit Mac really hard on the side of his face. Then, Mac grabbed Magnus and threw him to the side. Magnus got back up, took out a pistol from his cloak, and tried to shoot Mac. Mac scrambled out of the way, but before either one could give another thought, the roof they were standing on collapsed, and they both fell on the floor of the room they were on top of. 

This room was empty. It was the guest bedroom. Mac landed on the carpeted floor. It was dark magenta, navy blue, and very itchy. Magnus landed on top of the neatly made bed. The springs inside of the mattress could be heard poking out of the bottom of it. Mac scanned his surroundings. He had been in this room before, but he could not remember when. Then, he looked at the window, noticing a rickety-looking wooden platform, suspended by four ropes, which had begun to grow moss and mold on them. It was the Rope Balcony! 

Magnus then took out a knife and cut the rope suspending the chandelier, which caused it to swing right into Mac, knocking him two meters in the air, and launching him ten meters back. The impact was one of the worst he had ever endured. He slowly felt a weakening sensation in his body, and slowly lost his high sense of smell and hearing. Was he turning back into a human? The impact caused a loud and annoying ring in his ear that muffled his surroundings. Everything became blurry, probably because of the tears in his eyes. He wiped them, and as his vision slowly began to focus again, he saw a crimson-red blur charge at him. He was tackled to the floor, and his head smashed against the wooden floor. The smash was painful, and it was like every single part of his head was breaking open, all at once. 

He felt something smash his face. It felt like a hand in leather gloves, but he couldn’t tell. All he saw was a blurry figure on top of him. Mac looked at his arms, hairless and thin. Was this the end? He then felt anger like none other. He regained his strength and kicked Magnus right in his head. Magnus tumbled through the window; he was now on the Rope Balcony. Mac got up and limped his way to the balcony, where he too smashed through the glass. He grabbed Magnus, in an attempt to throw him off, but Magnus was too strong. He grabbed Mac, threw him over his shoulder, and smashed him down on the wooden base of the balcony, as it rocked vigorously in the wind. Magnus then took out his pistol, loaded it, and pointed it at Mac.

“You seriously thought you could beat me? Even when you’re a werewolf, you still can’t beat me!” He then put his finger on the trigger. “Anything you want me to say to your brother before I kill him?”

“Actually, yes,” Mac replied. “Tell him that it was a bad idea to stand on this balcony. Oh wait, maybe I’ll tell him instead.”

And with that, Mac took one of the glass shards from the floor and cut one of the ropes suspending the balcony. Magnus lost his balance, and gave Mac the opportunity to give him a good kick at the legs, knocking him over. 

Mac watched him fall down the side of the castle. And heard a thump as he hit the ground. He could barely think. Everything felt like flashes, and whenever he tried to move, he felt like he would break apart. He lay there helplessly, as the bright full moon shone on him. He heard screaming. Something along the lines of: “Our King has been shot!!! Our only King!”

He chuckled at this. It felt amusing to him thinking about everything that happened to him this past day. Sitting in his cell felt like a lifetime ago. He gave another chuckle, but felt a deep pain in his chest. He closed his eyes and fainted.

All the villagers who had gathered around to watch the crowning had all run in separate directions. Most had run back to their huts, but a few were still outside, trying to find the assassin. When a leather-armoured man fell down from the top of the castle many were startled, but most were able to piece things together.

Magnus, with very little strength in his voice, managed to utter his last words to the crowd looking down at him.

“It was Rigby,” he said, and he took out the keys that Rigby gave him, and placed them beside him. 

“Those are Rigby’s keys to his house in Canada!” Queen Stephanie exclaimed. 

“Where is he?!” King Oakley said, with a firm and confident voice.

No matter how thoroughly they searched those next couple of days, no trace of Rigby was found.

Mac woke up hungry. It was strange though, because the very thought of food made him feel nauseous. He wanted to open his eyes, but felt so lazy that he just decided to keep them closed. He then discovered a feeling of discomfort. Not in his mind, but in his body. He also felt cold, wet, and very sore. He finally got enough willpower to open his eyes, but was not initially pleased with his surroundings. He was looking straight up at a roof made out of wooden planks, which had moss and trickles of water that were dripping on his face. He wiped the cold droplets off his face, and, with a tremendous amount of effort, sat up on the bed he was laying on. He looked around and realized that he was in the dungeon once again, but this time, in the cell next to his.

“Good morning Mac,” Eric said from behind him, startling him.

“Eric?” Mac replied. “I- I-  Are you okay?”

“Yes, I will live,” Eric replied.

Eric sighed. For the first time in decades, he was addressing Mac informally.

“I- You- I know what you did for me. We were able to find some of your werewolf hair stuck to the assassin’s cloak. He’s dead,” Eric said. Mac could tell that he was truly grateful.

“Thanks, I guess.” Mac replied. This was very awkward for him.

“Listen. I know how you feel about this dungeon,” Eric said.

Mac thought that was a little bit ridiculous. Did he really know what it was like to be stuck in a cell 24 hours a day, for over 20 years? Did he really understand how Mac felt?

Eric continued, “I have talked it over with Mother and Father, and I think we have come to a good arrangement for you,” Eric told Mac. “I can offer you a deal. We have a carriage waiting for you right outside of Kindlock’s walls. It has everything you need: food, blankets, and more.”

“What are you trying to say?” Mac asked, intrigued by Eric’s sincerity.

“You could leave Kindlock. Maybe for years, and learn how to control your Canine form. It really is unfair that you have to sit in this horrible dungeon while all of us others are living freely. If you choose to accept, you can live outside of Kindlock, probably stay at the abandoned shack, and come back when you are completely in control of your Canine side. We would be extremely happy to accept you back into our family once again!”

Mac took this in. This decision would completely change the course of his life.

“I thought that I would be in this cell forever. I always thought maybe one of you would come and get me, tell me this was all a test or something like that. That day never came,” Mac said. “Until now.”

“So will you accept?” Eric asked, genuinely hoping he would.

Mac looked at his cell. The same cell he had been in for 20 years. The cell where most of his memories had been made. He then looked at the window, and got a small glimpse of the bright, golden sun.

“Yes,” he said, as he made the best decision he ever made in his whole life.