THIRD MONTH OF YEAR 992, A FEW MONTHS BEFORE THE TRAGEDY.
DAHLIA:
“Waah, mama,” the little girl wailed as I applied the ointment on her wounds. I tried to be as gentle as I could, but it didn’t seem to work much.
“Mama, mama, it hurts!”
I bit my lips. My heart hurt a lot seeing this small child weep in front of me. I soothed her in an attempt to make her feel better. I still needed to apply the rest of the ointment and patch the wounds afterwards, but I see it will take us more time to finish up in this state.
“Don’t cry, baby,” I said as gently as I could. “We just have to put a little bit more medicine, and we will finish up so that you can play, alright? Just a little bit more…”
She evaded my attempts to put the medical salve by writhing and thrashing about. I knew I should have eased the pain away when I first applied the ointment…
“Don’t cry, Aya,” her mother, a young girl with blonde flowing hair, said. She stroked her baby’s head gently as she spoke. “Mama is right here… I won’t leave, okay?”
Almost immediately, the little girl stopped wailing. I smiled. A mother’s love is really the best. It made me wonder what my own mother was like. Perhaps in my youth, she had been like this to me too.
“You’re a big girl now, right, Aya? Now, can you stretch your hands to the doctor and let her treat you? Mama will be here, don’t worry,” the lovely mother continued to say.
The little girl still cried, but it was more controlled than before. Her cheeks were red and puffed as she put on her bravest face, trying her utmost best to stop herself from wailing loudly. However, she still held her affected arms away from me and the awful medicine I was holding.
“Come now, Aya. Do you want the Shadow Runes to come and get you? Don’t you know that naughty pups get kidnapped by the Shadow Runes easily? If that happens, you won’t get to see mama anymore,” the mother warned her little one.
The Shadow Runes – an ancient werewolf clan that had been notorious for their use of black magic alongside their impossibly ferocious strength was a name that was both feared and abhorred throughout history. Before, this clan had been known as the mightiest group in all the Werewolf Clan. During the War Of The Lands a few years ago, this pack chose to side with the Blasted Ones – the werewolves’ name for those belonging to the Vampire Clan - in order to become the most powerful werewolf pack in the Western Kingdom.
In the past, calling the sacred name of this pack was unheard of. Speaking of it was akin to speaking a curse. They were a group of vicious hunters gifted in all possible areas: intelligence, speed, and stealth. It doesn’t matter whether you were a friend or foe. Anyone who had ever displeased a Shadow Rune wolf lost their lives.
After their pack had mysteriously disappeared several years ago, the fear against their name faded away through time. The only fear they can invoke now is those in children. Mothers use their name as a warning to never go against their parents’ will unless they wanted to be snatched away by the fabled pack.
The little cutie pie in front of me was still whimpering a bit, but she stretched out her burnt arm towards me, ready to be treated.
Indeed, the use of the Shadow Rune’s name was still effective. I beamed at her and applied the ointment as fast as I can.
This time, I applied a bit of my own powers quietly to make sure she does not feel any more pain.
“All done now,” I said, smiling back to both mother and child.
“Thank you, doctor! This really means so much to us,” the mother said, bowing down vehemently at my feet while I and Lina, my personal maid, stopped her from doing so.
“It’s alright,” I said, feeling the rising heat on my face when she called me ‘doctor.’ I clung to her shoulders as she tried to bow down and kiss the earth once again. “I really didn’t do much, and please don’t call me a doctor… I’m just a medical student. Just call me by my name, Dahlia.
“Or Lady Hurst,” Lina seconded. I shot her a slightly reproachful look as she said this. Lina was always big on formalities.
Honestly, I’d rather discard the use of formal titles. I always hated being treated as special, or worse, as someone incapable just because of my status or my gender.
If I could have it my way, I’d rather live in a secluded village amongst the commoners and treat people without a care about social statuses.
Of course, that wasn’t the case. I live in such a world where gender and position make up one’s life entirely. If one is a man, one can go up in high society, and if one is of the nobility, one will always find himself or herself on top of things.
I am precisely that person now – the person everybody sees on top. Some say I am lucky that my father is a duke. If it wasn’t for his connections, I wouldn’t find myself in this politically-arranged marriage with Prince Kaist, the next-in-line alpha of the White Fang Pack and the one and only heir to the Talandor Throne.
“Becoming the princess and future queen of this land – those are everyone’s dream,” Lina would always say this to me whenever I complain.
For her, those were dreams, so why then do I see them as my shackles?
“Doctor Hurst, thank you,” Aya’s mother said again, bringing my thoughts back into the present.
I patched Little Aya’s wounds properly and gave her instructions on how to treat and change the dressing. However, I knew that she wouldn’t have any need for them.
I was ecstatic to think that, a few hours from now, when they get home, the mother would discover that Little Aya’s wounds have already healed, and the best thing about it is that she would think it was due to the ointment. She would probably never suspect a thing.
That’s right… No one must discover my powers. No one should know that I could heal people, or I’ll get in deep trouble.
In this era when the name of the Shadow Rune has been used as a hex, discovering that once could do magic will also prove to be fatal – this was what my father had said.
I first discovered my powers when I was very young. I was six then, and I had always been interested in medicine, treating stray animals or my own pets when they get injured.
One time, I saw a bird, and I healed it using my powers. I thought it was a natural phenomenon back then. I called my powers the ‘glowing hands,’ for whenever I would place my hands over an injured part, and they light up, a miracle was bound to happen.
I thought my powers were a gift from the Goddess, but when my father discovered it, he was beyond shocked. On that day, he sent away all the maids from the house and only kept the bare minimum that he trusted.
“Dahlly, baby, whatever happens, no one should know that you can do this,” he tried to explain to the six year old me.
“But why, papa,” I said, curious and sad at the same time.
“Werewolves aren’t supposed to use magic, baby. Only witches use magic, and they would always end up dead… Maybe bad people will come after you if they know you can do this.”
“So, I can’t use my glowing hands to people,” I asked, pouting.
“No, you can’t, sweetheart.”
“But how about the animals, papa? Can I just help the animals?”
“You can’t too.”
I wanted to cry at that point. How could papa be so mean? Why do I have to hide my talents like that? I really didn’t understand him…
“You’ll know soon, when you grow up, baby. For now, you have to forget this power. You have to forget it and never use it again, understand?”
That was the first lesson papa had taught me, and that incident was also the first time papa had started to control my life into the direction he had wanted.
To others’ eyes I was a lucky wolf, but in my mind, I always felt like I was a mere prisoner in a luxurious cage…