It started with an animal.

It had a vaguely humanoid shape, roughly five feet tall when standing erect. Its entire body was covered with thick fur, ranging in all shades of brown from dark to dusty. It had long, lanky limbs and switchback legs with tough, padded feet; triple jointed, nimble fingers tipped with short, non-retractable claws; a collar of light, golden colored fur surrounded its neck, wrists and ankles. It possessed a lithe, slender form giving way to a slightly craning neck, and a face with a long snout, and eyes that were black with red irises. Its ears were long and silky, draping down to its shoulders.

The creature was sitting, legs crossed, hunched over, dozing. It heard a sound off to its left, and its eyes blinked open and darted in that direction. A member of its clan was approaching. The creature stood suddenly. This was the alpha, as it were. The pack leader. The lesser creature remained hunched over as it got to its feet. It brought its clawed hand to its chest in a gesture of deference and respect. The pack leader stood a bit taller than him, owing to the way it held itself, with a spine slightly less curved than those of the others. As the greater approached the lesser, it gestured for the hunched one to follow him; they were to go check the boundaries of their territory. The lesser grunted, and as the greater hunched over and began to run, the lesser followed.

They ran fast, low to the ground, snouts twitching, searching for any scent that was of interest to them. The creatures were a territorial species, and kept interaction with other clans to a minimum. Exchanges were typically aggressive, skirmishes fought over prey and land and water. The other creatures that roamed the plains kept largely out of their way. Some were prey animals, others were fellow predators. Some lived in the hot grasslands, others in the dense, humid forests, and yet others in the thick, murky swamps.

The world in which they lived was largely hot and humid. Humidity meant water, and water meant life. The planet was fertile, and species beyond count had sprung up over the course of its existence. Of all the creatures that called this planet home, however, not one existed that was capable of expressing the sentiment. No intelligent life had evolved on the planet, and while the two creatures that sprinted across the confines of their territory were clever and cunning, they were animals nonetheless.

They passed several scents. Prey – stale. Not worth following. An intruder – chased out of their territory this morning; no threat. Their kin – left over from the previous patrol, no doubt. They ran together, greater in front, lesser behind, looking for abnormalities, finding none. They ran the length of the clan's northern border, a few miles from the short-grassed drylands to the cliffs that marked the end of their territory. As the two creatures drew near the edge, the pack leader slowed and went to stand on the threshold, which overlooked a valley.

It was around sunset, and as the lesser creature approached where his alpha stood, it stopped and stayed respectfully back as the greater surveyed the dense jungle far below him.

The two creatures lived in a pack thirty-eight strong, typical for their species. Their territory stretched several square miles, a peninsula approximately one half savannah, one half forest, with a large river coursing through it. They were omnivores, hunter-gatherers, and were seldom left hungry due to their cunning natures, curved claws, long legs, and sharp canines. The lesser creature that stood watching its alpha had lived its entire life within the confines of its territory, bound by its natural instinct. It was strong, clever, agile and resilient, but that did not get it very far in its clan.

Their species had one leader at a time. This creature, the greater, held absolute power. No other member held influence. The pack leader was respected by its kind. When a kill was made or when food was found, the greater got first say in where it went; when their territory was threatened by a rival clan looking to enlarge their hunting grounds, the greater was the first enemy they fought. When a dispute occurred between fellow clan mates, the greater settled it, and no one questioned the outcome.

When a leader died or became unfit to lead the clan, a new one rose to take its place. This leader was chosen through instinct. The beast in question stood in the clan's midst and made its claim, and the instinct that drives all animals to behave the way they do took over; a brief ritual was performed, unique to the species. Thus leadership was secured. There was no conflict, nor was there a need for one. A new leader simply occurred as a result of some sort of spontaneous mental mutation.

Besides this there was little organization in the clan. Some were stronger than others, faster than others, cleverer than others – but they all had their part to play. Most were content.

The creature that stood, watching its pack leader survey the valley below, was not.

A leader's position was never questioned. Such a thing was not in their instinct, but as the lesser watched the greater, it felt the stirrings of emotion within itself, emotions more complex than an animal has any right to feel. Resentment…Anger…Pride.

The lesser had long been made to sit with its lot, following its alpha, its clan, its patterns, its instinct. But some part of it, a part that it did not understand nor had ever cared to, hungered for power. The power that came with being a clan leader. The power that gave it the ability to call its kin to action. The power that gave it the absolute right to command fealty from its clan mates.

Push him.

An impulse had grabbed hold of the creature. An impulse it had never felt before. It was as though some force, some will beyond his own, had fed this impulse into his brain. It now coursed through his veins, making his muscles twitch and his mind race.

For the first time, the animal which had always acted on instinct took control of this impulse. He followed it mentally, not physically. Although it did not have language and was incapable of putting words to the sentiment that pulsed through its mind, it understood the impulse acting on its mind on a baser, more chemical level. Push him. Push the alpha. Make the alpha fall. What if I do that? What if…?

Animals did not consider what if. Animals did not look ahead, did not contemplate the consequences of their actions. Cause and effect was not a part of their world, but this creature looked at his alpha and pondered, essentially…what if?

A dark force writhed through the creature's mind, a power beyond anything it had ever felt before. It was as though, in that moment, a portion of his mind that had not been accessible to him had opened up, shooting out tendrils of thought. Most of these came to nothing, but one tendril had caught hold and was arching through his consciousness, driving instinct away, forcing him to see something he had never given a thought to before…possibilities. A future that did not simply occur, but one that was planned. Dictated. Foreseen.

The force that compelled this transformation was not natural. It was spiritual. Sub-spiritual. Pseudo-spiritual.

Weak, meager, less than vapor, as inconsistent as a Venusian shadow, barely even aware of its own existence, the entity in question had drifted in a state of diluted consciousness for an indeterminable amount of time, only now coming to wrest some form of control over itself.

Over itself… and the creature before it.

As the lesser watched the being that had led his clan for years beyond counting, a possibility revealed itself to him. It gripped him, and drove him to the threshold of his natural capabilities.

He took a step closer. Then another. Slowly, he drew closer to his leader, watching him in utter fascination. His hand reached out, so close to his alpha's back…

…The greater turned around and started in mild surprise. The lesser was much closer than it had thought. As it looked down into the lesser's eyes, it was unnerved to see something strange staring back at him. An entity that was not familiar. An intruder. The lesser's eyes widened, its pupils contracted, it blinked…

And the entity was gone.

The greater looked at the hand behind him, so close to its back that the claws nearly brushed its fur, and huffed in mild annoyance. The lesser immediately withdrew the hand and went to sit beside its leader, hunched over, docile, enjoying the warmth of the sun setting on the lush valley that stretched beneath them.

The greater huffed again, then turned its attention to the sky. The sun was setting. They would need to return home soon, or the clan would grow restless. The greater stood, watching as the lesser got to its feet as well. As the pack leader motioned for them to leave, the lesser bristled, and let out a short bark. It seemed to see something in the valley that caught its interest, and it motioned to something far below them, near the base of the cliff. The greater moved closer, eyes narrowing as it searched for what had drawn the younger one's interest.

It was the last move it ever made.

As the greater leaned forward, the lesser's claws dug into the small of its back, propelling the creature off the cliff, screaming in fear and confusion. It writhed and thrashed in an attempt to grab hold of something, anything, to stop the feeling of helplessness gripping its body. There was nothing to grab onto. It fell.

The lesser stood, breathing heavily, entire body trembling in exhilaration, mind writhing with new, dark possibilities. In the back of his mind, the dark entity howled in triumph.

The lesser ran with purpose, padded feet tearing up the dirt and grass below him, wiry muscles taut, triumph fueling his every step. He drew close to the edge of the jungle that marked his clan's home. The clan would be near the clearing, waiting for their leader's return. This is where the lesser ran, darting through the thick foliage and over the dark, snaking roots of the giant trees that surrounded him.

At last he came to the clearing, panting heavily but still alive with energy. His clan was gathered there, eyes widening as they saw his form come crashing into their midst. They looked around in confusion for their leader, and not seeing him, turned their full attention to the lesser.

He stooped for a moment, catching his breath, gathering himself in preparation of the message he was about to relay. When the clan began to growl and whine in confusion, and when he was sure that every eye was on him, he stood fully erect, and began to gesture to his clan. Through body language and simple sounds, the only form of communication their species had developed, he communicated to them the death of their leader.

A hush rushed upon the clearing, broken only by the occasional low whine or moan. The news was devastating. Their greater had led them well for years. He had been a fine leader. Strong. Clever. Resilient. And now he was gone, and without him, fear and dissent would soon follow.

The clan could not exist without a leader for long. The threats they were constantly bombarded with – predators, scavengers, rival clans – would not allow them to. They remained in that initial state of shock long enough for the sun to sink just to the edge of the horizon. Insects flitted about in the fading light and avian creatures flew over the canopy, harsh cries echoing in the dusk.

As the voices of the clan began to quiet and an anxious buzz began to stir, the lesser stood. He let out a low growl, silencing those few who were still lamenting. His growl rose in volume until everyone was staring at him, eyes wide and muscles tense. He stood tall, staring at his clan in the dying light, and with a last, short bark, hunched over and began pounding on the ground with his clenched fists.

He beat a steady rhythm into the earth, eyes half closed, absorbed in his movements. The others knew what was happening. This was a part of their primal nature, how a new leader made hisself known to the clan. Their leader beat a rhythm into their lives, and they lived their lives by that rhythm. As the lesser drummed his claim into the earth, some of the younger ones begin to let out low growls, eyes glinting in the growing fervor of the moment. The air was charged, musk and pheromones thick in the breeze. They began to drum their fists in time with the rhythm that was steadily beating itself into their heads, erasing the old one which had dictated their lives for so long. The others joined in, the oldest, the weakest, and those most rooted in the old ways being the last to follow.

At last, the greater stood. The young ones began to howl their approval, but he silenced them with a low bark. The greater surveyed his new clan, and the dark entity once again compelled him to thoughts previously unattainable to him. He looked to the small, the weak, the ones in which he sensed the least potential. He glared at them each in turn, eyes widening, pupils contracting to slits. They cowered beneath his towering figure in fear and confusion, dropping their eyes in deference.

Dominance.

He turned to the young, virile members of his clan. He snarled at them, then flexed his muscles and bared his fangs. They followed his example, eyes flashing. They reveled in their power.

Strength.

He raised his clawed hands to the sky, let out an intimidating roar then hunched over and beat a short, powerful, complex rhythm into the ground. He turned to his clan, and implored any who could to copy him. Several fell to the ground, mimicking the intimidating rhythmic gesture in perfect time.

Excellence.

This was not enough. As his clan mates pledged themselves to him, either out of loyalty or fear, he looked upon them. The dark force writhed through his brain, sending once again that impulse which should have been beyond his grasp. It took hold of him, coursing through his veins and working its way into those parts of his body that were possessed of it. The muscles in his throat tensed in ways he hadn't thought possible. A tongue that had only ever been used for the basest of functions contorted into such strange shapes as he thought his body must be moving of its own accord. And he spoke.

"Qi'xir."

As the greater looked to the sky, a new era was beginning on his planet. The era of intelligent life. And where intelligence existed, there existed also a reflection of it. The dark entity which had taken root in the back of the greater's mind swelled with power. The energy emanating from this new, sentient race fueled its return to consciousness and ripped it from the void of existence into which it has been cast so long ago.

Saint Dane had returned.