Flames of resolves

Flames of resolves
Sleep refused to come that night. The words echoed again and again inside my mind—weak, useless, nothing.
I turned on my bed, staring into the shadows above me until my chest hurt. Harold’s voice. Amera’s sneer. The way Aeron had walked out without a word. They swirled like poison through my blood.

I sat up suddenly, my breath shaking. I couldn’t bear another minute lying there drowning in self-pity. My feet touched the cold floor as I crossed to the small mirror hanging on the wall. The faint light from the moon spilled across my face, silvering the edges of my hair and eyes.

For a moment, I didn’t even recognize the girl staring back at me—tired eyes, trembling lips, shoulders bowed beneath invisible weight. Is this what I’ve become?

I leaned closer, voice trembling at first. “I’m not weak,” I whispered. The words sounded fragile, like glass ready to shatter. “I’m not useless… not anymore.”

My reflection didn’t change, but something inside me did. My jaw tightened; my fists curled.
“I’ll prove it,” I said louder, my breath fogging the glass. “Tomorrow, I’ll train. I’ll fight. Even if I’m cursed, I’ll be brave enough to stand. I have Alpha blood in my veins.”

My parents filled my mind—their strength, their courage, the way they faced the world without fear.
“For them,” I whispered, my voice turning sharp. “For everything they lost… I will stand and fight. I’ll take revenge.”

My hands clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms, but I didn’t release them. The sting reminded me I was still alive, still capable of change. I looked into my reflection one last time, breathing hard.
“This ends tonight,” I murmured. “The old Selene dies here.”

⸻

Dawn came quietly, the first pale light stretching across wolfwood roofs. I rose before the others stirred, dressed in simple training clothes, and stepped out into the crisp morning air. The cold bit into my skin, but I welcomed it. Pain meant I was awake, moving, alive.

The training grounds stretched at the edge of the clearing, framed by tall pines. Dew sparkled on the grass, and the faint smell of smoke lingered from last night’s campfire. To my surprise, Lira was already there, waiting, her arms crossed and a small smirk playing on her lips.

“Hey! Lira! Good morning!” I called out, jogging toward her.

She raised an eyebrow. “Good morning, Selene. I’m impressed—you’re not late for once.”

I laughed softly. “Well, I was too excited to sleep. I wanted to start early.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said, grabbing two bows and tossing one to me. “It’s nice to see some fire in you. Maybe you’re finally interested in training, huh?”

“Of course,” I said firmly. “I’m not the same Selene anymore. I’m a newborn now, ready to face my enemies and make them pay.”

Lira gave me a side glance, half amused, half cautious. “Revenge is a heavy burden,” she said. “Let’s start with learning how to hold a bow first.”

⸻

It’s my first time to hold the bow, its polished wood smooth and cold. Lira showed me how to brace it and how to draw the string slowly and breathe with it. My first arrow fell embarrassingly short of the target, landing in the dirt.

Lira chuckled. “Good start. At least you didn’t shoot me.”

I gritted my teeth and tried again. The string stung my fingers, but I ignored the pain. Shot after shot, I missed, then adjusted, then missed again. Each mistake felt like a challenge whispered in my ear. Finally, one arrow struck near the center.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “There,” I said, smiling faintly.

“Better,” Lira said, lowering her own bow. “See what happens when you stop thinking you’ll fail?”

I nodded, chest swelling with something small but fierce—pride.

Next came hand-to-hand training. Lira moved like water, fluid and unhesitating. I, on the other hand, stumbled through the first few drills, tripping over my own feet more than once. She corrected my stance with a push to my shoulder, her tone patient but firm.

“Don’t think too much,” she said. “Trust your instincts. Even if your wolf sleeps, the blood of an Alpha remembers how to fight.”

Her words struck deep. I forced my body to listen—to the rhythm of breath, to the shift of balance, to the way the earth steadied my steps. Slowly, the movements began to feel less foreign. When I managed to land a clean counter during sparring, Lira grinned.

“That’s it! You’re learning faster than I expected.”

Sweat dripped down my back, my arms trembling, but I couldn’t stop. We moved from strikes to defense, from dodging to endurance drills. Lira made me repeat the same maneuver until my muscles screamed. Still, I refused to give in.

As the sun climbed higher, she set down her staff and said, “Now we work on your wolf’s strength.”

I frowned. “But my wolf is still asleep.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t wake her from the outside,” she replied. “Feel your heartbeat. Let it match the rhythm of the earth. Breathe as if you’re calling her. Strength isn’t just claws—it’s will.”

She guided me through lunges, sprints, and breathwork, pushing my body past its limits. My legs burned, my lungs ached, but something inside me stirred—a flicker of warmth, like an ember buried deep beneath ash.

When I stumbled to my knees at last, gasping, Lira crouched beside me, handing me a flask of water. “That’s enough for today,” she said gently. “You’ve done more in one morning than some do in weeks.”

I looked up at her, chest heaving, and managed a faint smile. “I told you,” I said between breaths. “I’m not weak anymore.”

Lira smiled back, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “No, you’re not. You just needed to remember it.”

I sat there a while, watching the sunlight filtering through the trees, feeling its warmth against my sweat-soaked skin. My body throbbed with exhaustion, but beneath the ache was something stronger—a sense of purpose I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I will fight,” I whispered to myself. “For my parents. For what they took from me. And for who I must become.”

Lira’s voice came from beside me, steady as ever. “Then rest, Selene. Tomorrow we begin again.”

I nodded, watching the horizon as the sun climbed higher. My body was battered, my hands raw—but inside, the old weakness had begun to burn away.