Chapter 78 Answers

Chapter 78 Answers
~Morwen~
By the time I reached my house, night had settled over the kingdom.
The lantern hanging beside my front door had almost burned itself out, its weak flame dancing lazily against the cold breeze. Behind me, the cart carrying the blacksmith's body creaked to a stop, and two guards carefully carried him inside exactly as I had instructed.
"Lay him on the table."
Neither man questioned why I insisted his body remain face down. They had seen enough today to know better than to ask questions.
Once they had positioned him across the long wooden table in the center of my study, I dismissed them with a nod.
"Leave us."
The room became silent again.
Bookshelves covered nearly every wall, overflowing with scrolls, journals and centuries of collected knowledge. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, filling the air with familiar scents that had always comforted me.
Tonight, they did nothing. I looked toward the blacksmith.
His lifeless body remained exactly where they had placed it. The strange Greek inscription rested beneath his shirt, waiting patiently for me to understand it.
But I didn't walk toward him.
Not yet. Instead, I crossed the room toward my desk.
The leather-bound book rested exactly where I had placed it after returning from the old oak tree. I lowered myself into my chair and carefully opened it once more.
The pages crackled beneath my fingers. It wasn't a history book. Nor was it a sacred text.
It was someone's journal.
The handwriting changed ever so slightly from page to page, the ink fading more heavily in some places than others. Whoever had written this had not intended to create scripture.
They had intended to leave a warning. I frowned.
‘Who?’ 
My teacher had never mentioned this book. How had it found its way into his possession?
The question lingered only briefly before I pushed it aside. There were more urgent mysteries demanding answers.
I turned the page and the first line stared back at me.
‘If you are reading this... then she has awakened.’ 
My brows knitted together. "She?" I whispered the word into the empty room. The journal offered no immediate explanation.
Instead, the next sentence struck even harder. ‘ They erased her from history.’ 
A strange chill climbed my spine. "They?"
I murmured. ‘Who had erased whom? Why?’ 
I continued reading. The handwriting grew steadier, almost as though the writer wished to ensure these words would never be misunderstood.
‘Two thousand years ago, before kingdoms divided the land and before wolves answered to kings, there existed only one throne. Not a throne of gold or stone, but of the Moon herself.’ 
I leaned closer. The pages seemed to pull me deeper into another age.
‘She was born beneath a blood moon. The daughter of the oldest bloodline descended from the First Wolf. Many believed she would become another powerful Alpha. They were wrong. On the night of her eighteenth birthday, the Moon Goddess descended. She did not crown a kingdom. She crowned a soul.’ 
I continued.
‘From that night onward, she ceased to be merely a Dire Wolf. She became something greater. Something no generation had ever witnessed before. The Crowned Moon.’ 
The title sent another shiver through me. So that was it. It was no legend or myth. It was a title. 
I kept reading.
‘The Crowned Moon does not rule because others choose her. She rules because every living wolf recognizes her before their minds ever understand why. Her authority exists deeper than instinct. Deeper than loyalty. It is woven into the very blood of our kind.’ 
Images of the massacre immediately returned to me.
The kneeling men and their reverence. I had mistaken it for an unusually powerful version of Animal Magnetism.
I was wrong. Terribly wrong.
The journal continued almost like an old storyteller speaking beside a fire.
‘Kings feared her. Priests worshipped her. Wolves crossed mountains simply to kneel in her presence. Entire packs abandoned their Alphas after hearing only rumors that she had arrived nearby. Some called her salvation. Others called her the end of free will.’ 
I swallowed. Neither description sounded comforting. The next page carried another paragraph.
‘No Crowned Moon is born by blood alone. Many carry the blood of the First Wolf. Only one is chosen. The Moon Goddess places her crown upon no more than one soul in an age. Sometimes thousands of years pass before another is worthy.’ 
My fingers tightened around the page.
"So Elira..." I barely finished the sentence before another knock echoed through my house.
Three sharp knocks that screamed nobody else but King Kael.
I knew it before opening the door. His expression confirmed every fear I already carried. He looked exhausted.
Dark circles rested beneath his eyes, and although he still carried himself like a king, worry had become impossible to hide.
"I came for answers."
"I know." I stepped aside.
He entered quietly, immediately noticing the blacksmith's body lying across my table.
His eyes lingered on it only briefly before shifting toward the open journal resting on my desk. "What is that?"
"I believe..." I answered slowly, "...it is the answer we've both been searching for."
He frowned.
"I found it beneath the old oak tree."
His eyes widened slightly. "The one your teacher forbade you from digging beneath?"
I nodded. "He told me the answers would be waiting there when the time was right."
"And this was buried beneath it?"
"Yes."
Silence settled between us. Kael stepped closer as I turned the journal toward him.
"I've only begun reading."
"What have you found?"
I took a slow breath. "We have been wrong from the beginning."
His brows pulled together. "Wrong about what?"
"Everything." I looked directly into his eyes. "The Queen isn't merely a Dire Wolf."
His face hardened. "What are you saying?"
I turned the journal so he could see the title written across one page. "The Crowned Moon."
He repeated the words quietly.
"The Crowned... Moon?"
I nodded.
"It appears Dire Wolves and the Crowned Moon are not the same thing. A Crowned Moon is born from the bloodline of the First Wolf, but among countless descendants, only one is chosen by the Moon Goddess herself."
Kael stared at the pages.
"So Elira..."
I interrupted, "...is the second one history has ever recorded."
His silence spoke louder than words.
I resumed reading aloud. "The Crowned Moon possesses authority beyond ordinary Alpha dominance. Wolves do not merely obey her."
I glanced toward him. "They worship."
His eyes immediately drifted toward the blacksmith's body.
"Those men… were never simply forced."
I finished the sentence for him. "They truly believed they stood before something divine."
Kael slowly lowered himself into the chair opposite mine. He looked as though the room had become too small to contain everything he was learning.
I turned another page. More writing filled the parchment. Then another passage caught my attention.
I read aloud. ‘Her first loyal servant shall survive her first Ascension.’ 
Kael looked up, and I continued.
‘He shall no longer belong to himself. His loyalty shall no longer be a choice. His soul shall bind itself to hers. Not as mate. Not as family. But as guardian.’ 
I felt my stomach tighten.
‘He shall stand before her until death itself claims him.’ 
Neither of us spoke. The silence became unbearable.
Finally Kael broke it. "Drex."
I nodded slowly. "It explains everything."
Kael's jaw clenched. "You mean Drex survived her first Ascension." His eyes darkened. "And now… he belongs to the Crowned Moon."
The king leaned back heavily.
I looked back at the journal. "This is all a part of something far deeper."
I continued turning pages until another heading appeared.
‘The Cost of Ascension.’ 
Both of us leaned closer. I began reading.
‘Each Ascension draws the Crowned Moon closer to her completed awakening. With every awakening, the veil separating memory, destiny and time weakens. She shall dream lives she never lived.’ 
I immediately thought of Elira's nightmares. I continued.
‘She shall witness moments that belong to another age.’ 
"The burning woman," Kael whispered.
I nodded. ‘Her body shall reject the burden. Blood shall leave her before understanding arrives.’
I frowned. "Blood..."
Kael looked at me. "What does that mean?"
Before I could answer, I turned the page. Half of it was missing. Someone had torn it cleanly from the journal.
The remaining edge fluttered beneath my fingers.
"No..." I searched desperately.
Thete was moving. The entire explanation had vanished.
Kael slammed his fist onto the desk. "Damn it!" His voice echoed throughout the room. "Who tears out the most important page?"
I had no answer.
Slowly… I turned to the next page.
The moment it opened… Both of us froze.
Written across the parchment… In the exact same language carved into the blacksmith's back...
Were the words: Μην την αφήσεις να ανέβει.
My heart began pounding.
Beneath it… Someone had translated it. ‘Do not let her ascend.’ 
Neither of us moved.
The room suddenly felt colder. I swallowed. "If Ascension is something to be prevented..."
Kael looked at me.
"Then every time Elira uses more of her power… she moves closer to something."
I nodded. Before either of us could speak again… The next page revealed a charcoal drawing.
It was a woman. She had long silver hair flowed over dark robes. Her eyes glowed even on the faded parchment. The resemblance was unmistakable.
Kael slowly stood. "...She looks exactly like Elira."
I barely heard him. My eyes had already dropped to the words written beneath the portrait.
‘The First Crowned Moon.’ 
My breath caught. The next sentence almost made the book fall from my hands.
‘ She was betrayed and burned alive.’ 
The room fell silent. I slowly looked up at Kael.
My voice barely rose above a whisper. "Elira isn't seeing random visions."
He stared back at me. "She's remembering." 
I closed the journal carefully. Then I spoke the truth that neither of us was prepared to hear.
"Elira..."
I swallowed hard. 
"...is the second Crowned Moon. And I think her life may be in danger.”