Chapter 7 : The Echo of Ashes
The forest was quieter after the fire.
Embers still clung to the scorched remains of the ruined fort they had escaped from, curling smoke into the sky like ghosts. Elara and Aldric didn't look back as they crossed the ridge. Some things didn't deserve remembrance. Some places were better buried under silence.
By dawn, they had made it to the banks of a slow-moving river. The kind of place where birds returned to nest and deer stopped to drink. A contrast to the chaos they had just fled, but still… Elara couldn't relax. Not entirely.
She kept glancing over her shoulder.
"You don't have to keep watching," Aldric said gently, his voice rough with exhaustion. "We're safe. For now."
"That's what worries me," she replied.
They both knew Marek wasn't working alone. A bounty that large… someone else had put a price on her head.
They found a small clearing tucked between two willows and made a temporary camp. No fire this time. Elara didn't want to give away their location.
Aldric lay back on a patch of dry moss, eyes closed but not sleeping.
Elara sat cross-legged beside him, sharpening a stick to a point.
The silence stretched between them.
Then, quietly, she asked, "Do you still dream of the castle?"
He opened his eyes.
"Not the castle," he said. "Just the people I left behind. My sister. My steward. There are days I wonder if I was a coward… running."
"You weren't," she said firmly. "You chose love. That's not cowardice."
"But at what cost?" he murmured.
Elara turned her head toward the river. The moon was still low in the sky, pale and quiet. "Do you regret it?"
Aldric sat up. "Never."
His answer was so certain, it made her chest tighten.
Then he added, "But I wonder if the consequences are only beginning."
Later that day, while Aldric was washing a wound by the riverbank, Elara heard a sound. Not quite a twig snap—quieter. A weight shifting. Breath.
She turned sharply.
Nothing.
Still, she felt it. That pull in her chest. The beast inside her didn't stir for nothing.
She drew closer to the treeline, inhaling slowly.
Human scent.
She motioned to Aldric.
He returned instantly, crouching beside her.
"What is it?"
"We're not alone."
They stayed still, every sense stretched.
Then—movement.
A figure emerged from the trees. Hooded. Cautious. Arms raised.
"I come in peace," the stranger called out. "I have news."
Elara's hackles rose. "Who are you?"
The figure removed their hood.
A woman. Sharp-eyed. Older than Elara but not by much. A faded scar ran along her temple.
"My name is Kaelen," she said. "I used to be like you."
Elara stepped forward warily. "Like me how?"
"Cursed. Changed by blood and moon. But I found a way to control it. Not just survive it—balance it."
Aldric stepped between them protectively. "Why are you here?"
Kaelen's gaze met his. "Because you're both in danger. Bigger than either of you know."
They sat across from each other on the riverbank. The tension was thick. Elara never let go of the knife in her hand. Aldric never dropped his guard.
Kaelen, however, spoke calmly. Like someone who had lived through enough to know when to be afraid—and when not to be.
"There's a network," she said. "Hunters, nobles, secret guilds. They've been tracking werewolves for years. You're not the first, Elara. But you're special."
Elara frowned. "Why?"
"Because you weren't born with it—and you weren't meant to survive it. The one who bit you… he was part of a failed experiment."
Elara's breath caught.
Kaelen continued, "There are old records. Spells. Rituals. They were trying to create a breed of werewolves that could retain human control. A way to turn soldiers into unstoppable weapons."
"And me?" Elara asked, her voice cold.
"You're the only one who lived," Kaelen said.
Aldric's fists clenched. "So they're still looking for her."
Kaelen nodded. "They'll want to finish what they started. Or kill you before you unravel it."
There was a long pause.
"Why are you helping us?" Elara asked.
Kaelen hesitated. "Because I lost someone. Someone who didn't make it out like you did. If I can help someone else survive… maybe it'll matter."
Aldric studied her. "What do you suggest?"
"There's a place. A sanctuary. Deep in the north woods. Hidden. It's where I learned to manage the change. Where others like us live in peace."
Elara's eyes narrowed. "And they'll take me in?"
"They'll have to. You're stronger than they've seen before."
That night, Aldric and Elara sat together by the river, wrapped in a thick wool blanket. The air had turned colder, like the forest itself was warning them.
"Do you believe her?" Aldric asked quietly.
"I don't know," Elara admitted. "But something about what she said… it fits. I've never understood why I survived that night. Why the change didn't destroy me."
"She said you're stronger."
She gave him a crooked smile. "You've said that too."
"Because it's true," he said, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "You're stronger than anyone I've ever known. Not because of what you are—but who you are."
She leaned her forehead against his. "I'm scared."
"So am I."
They didn't need more words than that.
Fear was familiar. But love—love was what kept them moving.
They traveled north with Kaelen.
Through forests that grew darker, deeper, older.
There were moments of quiet—Elara laughing at Aldric tripping in the snow, Kaelen teaching them how to identify edible berries, the three of them huddling around a small fire and sharing old stories.
But there were also signs.
Symbols carved into trees. Shadows that moved when they shouldn't.
One night, Elara woke with a jolt.
Someone was standing over her.
She leapt up, claws half-shifting in defense—but the figure was gone.
"Kaelen?" she called out.
But Kaelen had been awake. Watching the same thing. She nodded grimly.
"They're close."
Three nights later, they arrived.
It was barely visible at first—just a thick wall of stone and ice hidden between two cliffs. But Kaelen led them through a narrow passage.
Inside: firelight.
Voices.
And eyes. Dozens of them. Golden. Glowing. Watching.
A village. Hidden. Alive.
Elara stood frozen.
A man stepped forward. White-haired. Towering. Not unkind.
"You brought her," he said to Kaelen.
Kaelen nodded. "The last survivor of the Blood-Moon Trials."
Gasps echoed around them.
Elara blinked. "What?"
Aldric took her hand. "What does that mean?"
Kaelen turned to her. "You were never just a mistake, Elara. You were made for something more. And they're going to come for you again."
The white-haired man nodded. "But this time, you won't face them alone."
To be continued.....
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