I swallowed them dry and leaned back into the chair.

“That bad?” Luke asked startling me.

“What do you mean?”

“Pain pills?” he asked coming over to take the bottle from me.  His shirt showed dark patches from putting it on wet and clung to his skin. His hair was still damp too.  He couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes.

A frown settled on his face when he studied the prescription label and the unknown name on it.  “How many did you take?”

“Relax.  It’s just a bottle.  I keep other stuff in there.  I took two sleeping pills.”

His eyes flicked to my blood-soaked shirt.  He squatted down near me, balancing on his heels, and lifted the hem of my shirt.  His shocked gaze flew to mine.

“I know.  It’ll need stiches.  No hospital though, okay?”  I grabbed his hand and begged with my eyes until he nodded.  “The dreams will knock me out, and the pills will keep me under.”  I did a slow blink without trying.  Already they called to me.

“Luke,” I whispered.  “They’re not done trying.  Tell the others to soak the buildings.  I’ve died by fire before, and it’s not fun.”

*    *    *    *

I suffered the same dream duality as I had before, but more.  My present self, my past self, and the past selves of four of my sisters.  The multiple views disoriented me, and I fought to focus on just one.

Heat flickered over my stomach like tiny flames dancing on my skin.  I wanted to look down, but my eyes remained focused on the horde before me.

My fingers gently squeezed the hand wrapped within mine before I looked to my sister.

Through her eyes, I looked back at me. Again, my present-self suffered a wave of vertigo.  My stomach twisted with pain, but I couldn’t tell from which of us it stemmed.

“All will be well,” I promised my sister.

I pushed away the discomfort and tried to focus.  My sister squeezed back as her eyes closed.

“What do you see?” I asked.

Concentrating on my sister, I jumped perspectives.

A swarm of glowing lights filled my mind.  Blue-green, blue-grey, yellow-green, and then us.  The humans were far from us.  We’d agreed to leave them out of our fight.  The blue-grey almost outnumbered blue-green.

“They will not win.  They do not have Courage.  Her spark no longer exists,” I said on a sob.  Knowing they would not win did not sooth the loss of our sister.

“Be strong.  They may not win the Judgement, but they may win this fight.”

A hand closed over my shoulder and peace flowed through me, taking away fear, hate, worry, even the odd outside feeling of pain in my stomach.  I breathed deeply and struggled not to smile.  I fought to hold onto my worry.

“Stop, sister.  Save yourself for them.  We will need you,” I begged.

Changing perspective again, I surged into a mind filled with so much fear, hate, worry, pain, and doubt.

I struggled to breathe.  My skin felt too tight as if all the emotion inside of me fought to burst out.  Fists clenched, teeth gritted, I growled, “And we need you focused.  They will learn to fear me.”

“Sisters, join hands,” another of us spoke drawing our attention.

Turning, we clasped hands.  Five of us: Strength, Hope, Prosperity, Wisdom, Peace.

“Courage will always be with us,” Strength spoke with confidence as a surge of power flowed through us.

My present-self struggled as what each of the past selves experienced in that moment flooded me.

The sparks in my mind ignited, glowing brightly...

Emotions surged within me as I had the capacity to drain even more from those around us...

Glimpses of the battle to come floated around in the white infinity of my mind...

Flashes of the past rekindled my purpose.

Our purpose.

“The Urbat have grown too strong.  We must reduce their numbers or face worse the next cycle,” I, Wisdom, predicted.

“I have no claws, but give me a knife and I will do my part,” I, Peace, intoned.  Seething rage boiled within me.  I itched to pace the field.

“I can only see our fates in this life, not the next.  We will stay back and do what we can.  Be well and be loved in your next lives,” I, Prosperity, said softly, pulling Strength and Hope from the circle.

I looked at my sister, Peace.  “I remember how to fight thanks to your past lives, but I don’t have the skills you have from this life.”

I watched her pull another knife from the leather belt at her waist.  She handed it to me hilt first.  “Grip it firmly and don’t let go.  Swing it around like a wild woman until it feels like your arm will fall off.  Then keep swinging.  Make them bleed.  Make them sorry.  Make them see their fate.”

An eerie howl rent the air, and it began.  The werewolves around us surged forward, meeting the Urbat in the middle of the field.  Hand in hand, we ran.

The dream shifted, but not much.

I stood in the center of the red field, the center of the storm, surrounded by a moment of stillness.  Bodies lay about me, all reverted to human form.  My friends.  My adopted family.  My protectors.  I looked down at the vacant vibrant blue eyes of my sister.  She’d fought well with just memories.

A small distance away, the battle continued.  Here, I looked around in misery.  We’d hoped to decimate their numbers.  Instead, they’d succeeded in decimating ours, almost exterminating the Elders, the keepers of knowledge for the werewolves.  I glanced around at the Urbat fighters.  They didn’t believe in Elders.  They didn’t want any group to hold such power over them.  Leaders led.  If they were not strong enough to do so, they were challenged and replaced with ones who were stronger.

Their emotions drenched the field.  I inhaled slowly and deeply, pulling the stagnant mass toward me.  For those closest to me, I siphoned their consuming hate, leaving only traces of fanaticism.  Several fell to their opponents during their confusion.  I felt bloated and tight.  Still I inhaled again, pulling more from them, expanding my reach to pull from every Urbat on the field.  Something trickled from my nose, eyes, and ears.  I kept breathing in, impossibly filling my lungs, and myself, with everything I could.

Something inside me popped, and a flaring pain seared through my stomach.  I knew I needed to let go.  I gathered everything I held, everything that made me boil and shake with rage, and released it all at once killing the still staggering Urbat where they stood.  The few friends who remained staggered as well.  Blood ran from their ears as they toppled to the ground.  I fell to my knees as they fell.  The world surrendered to darkness.  The time for Judgement faded.

The dream repeated countless times.  I absorbed every sight, thought, and feeling from each prospective before I finally floated to the surface.  I now understood the war that had raged, since the beginning of time, between the Urbat and Werewolves.

“Bethi,” Luke demanded near my ear.  Then, not so loud, he asked, “Why isn’t she waking up?”

“Go.  Away.” My lips didn’t want to move.  My mouth tasted like I’d kissed a skunk’s butt, and my stomach hurt.  Bad.  Still reeling from the graphic dream of death, hate, and pain, I wanted to be left alone.  For a long time.

Someone gently touched my head, smoothing a hand over my hair.  The touch disappeared a moment before a door opened and closed.

In the silence, I recapped my current life, compared it to past lives, and didn’t like the similarities leading up to the finale.  I tried licking my lips and instead moaned.

“Do you need a drink?” a new voice asked.

Opening my eyes, I looked at an unfamiliar face.  Wait, no.  I blinked at her and remembered.  I almost smiled at myself.  As if I could forget anything.  Winifred.  Nana Wini.  But I stopped the smile because I didn’t want her to think I was smiling at her.  More than ever, I didn’t know who to trust.  I needed Hope.  I needed to know which of the wolves around me were Urbat and which were Werewolves.  Only Hope could tell me that.  Knowing the difference between the two wouldn’t determine my trust, but it was a start.