Chapter 107: A Memory Lost Prt 2
“My story may not make sense, sweet child, but one day it will, and when you remember it, remember this night and this moment, and all will fall into place. You’ll know why I came.” Sierra Santo brushes a hand across my forehead gently, an affectionate yet straightforward touch of a mother, and I nod, not willing to interrupt her anymore, so eager for this story to begin even if I don’t grasp what she means. I love tales about witches, magic, and brave heroes, and I hope this will be a good one. I can already tell as she’s playing with my hair like we’ve started a great adventure.
I feel her sag against my thigh and sigh before her voice fills the air, still hushed yet clear and true.
“Once upon a time, a special girl called Danya lived near some breathtaking mountains in a land filled with immortals. She was only small, barely a girl.
She was unusual, though, as, before her, no other of her kind had been borne that had ever survived beyond the womb. They say the Fates blessed her very creation with a purpose in mind. That she was of two breeds united, who had lived on the land side by side for centuries; her mother, a light walking wolf, fell in love with a dark creature who could never face the sun, a vampire.
By their union, they created a child of two worlds who could walk in either sun or moon and harness the best of both. You see, these two breeds were once allies, co-existing together. One in the night, and one in the light, protecting the lairs of each, so other immortals and human hunters would never hurt them at their weakest.
But a terrible king pulled them apart in the worst of ways. He believed the breeds uniting, creating a new kind, would overpower all the immortals, outbreeding his wolves and this girl, with her unique gifts, and could show them the way. She was not just any hybrid child, she had powers unlike any we had seen before, and she wanted only unity among her people. That was her fated purpose.”
I gasp a little and cover my mouth right away so as not to disturb her, and utter only a breathless ‘WOW’ as I become immersed in this tale. My little heart picking up speed with the wonder of it. Sierra smiles softly and continues.
“The Alpha king was enraged with the girl's audacity, that she should one day rise and derail him, taking his wolf kingdom away. So, he did what he thought would save his rule, and he slaughtered the girl Danya when she was merely a child. Her mother, too, who tried to protect her, was slain in a pool of blood. The King was a liar.
He blamed the dark creatures for the deaths of their own and ignited anger in the wolf packs to seek vengeance for the bloodshed of an innocent, while he denied the act himself.”
“He killed the little girl and her mommy?” I blurt out in outrage, unable to contain my angry shock, inhaling hard, and opening an eye to blink at Sierra. Sierra gently moves her hand over my face and closes my eyes once more with her delicate fingertips, pushing me back to quiet, and continues. I try to keep my eyes closed this time, the excitement bubbling within my veins.
“Now, the nightwalker, he was not just any creature … he was what they call an original, much like the Alpha of the wolves. An ancient. Beings that were the first of our kind and created many purebloods.
Danya’s mother had lain with the King of Vampires, probably why her child took hold and came to fruition, as ancients are the purest of our kind. His broken heart and need to avenge his love and child drove him to sheer madness, and he swore to avenge her death by slaying all wolves he deemed responsible for their demise.
The Kings met in battle, and what were once allies and peaceful unions became bloodshed and death. It spilled onto every land until it forced both to find refuge in parts of the world where the other did not stray. In the years following, those born of mixed breed, who came after, where unions were made in secret from those who didn’t want the wars, were hunted down and slaughtered by both kinds for treason. Unions between the two breeds were forbidden. So those born of light and dark fled and hid and always kept their secret about who they were, in any way they could. Danya was not the last.”
I sigh heavily, letting out a slight noise, but Sierra is making sure I keep my eyes closed, and I picture such a pretty girl with white hair, saddened with little pangs in my heart that they ended her in such a cruel way. I wonder if a wolf can be both, like me, and one of those creatures Mommy is fighting. I wonder if this story could be a little bit true. It would be sad if all these wars were because a bad man killed a little girl. All because he was afraid she would take his crown away. What a silly man.
“Stories told are a funny thing, as they change and grow, and details are forgotten or exaggerated, and soon that story of years gone by gets lost among the wolves, and visionaries too afraid to correct the tellers.
We witches became the enemy because we held truth and sight, as Alphas removed traces from our history and beheaded witches who spoke out. The wars raged on, decade after decade, for hundreds of years, until no wolf or vampire knew why we came to hate one another with such passion. The witches still whispered the secrets, though.
All was to be forever that way, quiet secrets, until a visionary, a seer, saw something that changed everything, and she sacrificed her life by spreading a prophecy to any who listened. Neither side trusts the motives of the witches, but we have always been the peacekeepers and the healers among you all. Our hearts were open to love all kinds, and we only wished to serve the needs and cure the sick, but this hatred had pushed some of my kind into terrible darkness who use their gifts for bad. And we no longer tried to right the wrongs of your people.”
Sierra again lifts her hands from my eyes, although I keep them closed, ready and waiting for her words, and she returns to twirling my hair.
“This Seer, she saw an end to it all, in the form of a white wolf with a vampire's blood running through her veins. A direct descendent of both bloodlines, both ancients. The prophecy was clear that only a femme could carry the gifts needed. She would rise and lead her people … not in war, hate, and death.
No, that was never the prophecy, but she was to unite and repair the bonds between the two because a warrior she may be, but her truest gift will be the love she has inside her, and her power will reset the balance. She will not wipe out the vampires; she will find something among them that will show her how to fix the rift. They possess something she needs from them. She’s a healing balm.” Sierra sighs heavily, fatigue in her voice, and a sense of hopelessness dulls her tone.