Chapter 149: Alive
Bailey
Rian stands beside me in the center of Junhera's main hall while our healers, alchemists, and a few warriors crowd the chamber around us. The battle still rages outside the castle walls. Distant howls drift through the windows, mixing with the scent of death and blood that hangs over the city.
Bontah and Reyger stand with us, and just as I’m about to ask them what our next steps should be, the hall begins to glow in all colors, from everywhere at once.
Violet light unfurls through the air like silk caught in a breeze. Indigo follows, weaving through the violet in slow, graceful currents. Streams of gold spill across the stone floor while fuchsia blossoms overhead in luminous clouds. Red-orange light dances between the warriors, warm and bright, while ribbons of white spiral upward toward the ceiling.
The colors move around the crimson glow surrounding Bontah, and the rich green radiance flowing from Reyger until all eight colors are drifting through the hall together.
The violet light gathers first, drawing inward until Iggy steps from its center. Indigo follows, condensing beside him as Bo takes shape. Simkah emerges from swirling red-orange light while Zanya appears within a brilliant field of gold. Fuchsia folds around itself before revealing Elainardo, and streams of white gather near the center of the hall as Lattkah materializes before us.
The ethereal lights continue flowing around them, weaving through the chamber in slow currents of light. For a moment, the hall no longer feels entirely part of the physical world. It seems suspended between worlds.
Bontah looks around the room, his crimson aura casting shifting light across the stone walls. “The time has finally come,” he says.”The war ends tonight.”
Reyger steps forward, green light flowing around him like living vines. “And what remains afterward must be cleansed.”
“The corruption Vario spread runs deeper than just the wolves who followed him,” Iggy says. His violet light drifts through the room, brushing against the other colors. “It has seeped into the land itself.”
“It’s in the villages,” Zanya adds.
“And the forests,” says Lattkah.
“It has corrupted all the hearts of those who have suffered under it,” Elainardo says softly.
Bo folds his arms. “Junhera can’t fully heal until it is removed.”
A heavy silence settles over the hall before Simkah turns toward the doors. “Come. We heal this place tonight in the name of the Moon Goddess.”
The spirit guides move as one. Their lights flow around them as they glide from the hall. Rian and I immediately follow, and behind us come the healers, alchemists, and warriors. By the time we reach the castle entrance, dozens more wolves have joined us.
The sight waiting outside steals my breath. The battle still rages across Junhera. Wolves clash in the streets, growls echo through the city as the last of Vario’s followers continue fighting despite the certainty of defeat.
The spirit guides descend the castle steps without hesitation, their lights expanding with every step, spreading through the city like rivers of living light. Enemy wolves begin slowing. Some stop fighting altogether. Others stare in confusion as the lights pass over them.
Bontah raises both hands. The crimson light surrounding him surges upward into the sky, and the other spirit guides do the same with their light. Eight streams of light rise above Junhera, twisting together high overhead until they form a massive circle visible from every corner of the kingdom, the moon shining through its center.
Power rushes through the bond connecting Rian and me, through every allied wolf, through every pack. I feel the Moon Goddess—not distant, not watching, but present.
The spirits begin speaking in an ancient language, and the circle of light turns faster as the ground begins to tremble. Then the darkness appears.
Black smoke erupts from the earth itself, rising from streets and buildings, pouring from abandoned dens and ruined homes, seeping from cracks in the stone and dead patches of forest beyond the city walls. This is the corruption, the evil Vario fed for years, the poison that has lingered in Junhera.
The black smoke fights against the light, twisting and clawing as if it possesses a will of its own.
“Be gone,” Reyger commands.
The emerald spirit thrusts his hand toward the sky, and the others join him. The circle above Junhera blazes brighter as the corruption begins tearing apart, piece by piece, fragment by fragment, every shred of darkness ripped from the land and dragged upward into the waiting light.
The black smoke shrieks, then vanishes as a wave of moonlight explodes outward from the circle, racing across Junhera, across the villages, across the forests, across every inch of territory claimed by the eight allied packs.
The fighting that had continued until now stops, not gradually, but instantly. Every wolf freezes. The hatred is gone. The madness is gone. The poison infecting the kingdom is gone.
Silence falls across Junhera. For several heartbeats, no one moves. Then somewhere in the distance, a child begins laughing. A woman starts crying in relief.
The spirit guides lower their hands. Above us, the circle of light slowly fades as peace settles over the kingdom like a warm blanket. For the first time since arriving in this realm, I can feel it: the Circle of Eighths is whole again.
The last of the light fades from Junhera. Around us, the allied packs begin to break apart, turning away from the battlefield and toward home.
“Thank you,” I send to the spirit guides. “For always helping and guiding us.”
Rian’s voice follows mine immediately. “For standing with us, and finishing what we couldn’t finish alone.”
“And for restoring the Circle of Eighths, and the utopia,” I add.
“We will be at the celebration,” Reyger says with a bow, and just like that, their glowing forms fade into the atmosphere.
The Alphas of each of the eight packs send orders through the link to head home, and one by one, the allied wolves turn away from Junhera. As the sun rises over Junhera, we begin to run back toward Silverhide, victorious and alive.