425- The Legacy Yet to Come
POV Viktor Averwyn:
“The snowfall here reminds me of Astraluna.”
I commented as I stood on the porch with my brothers that night, watching the white flakes blanket the trees, the ground, and the entire village.
Dinner had been wonderful, as always, and we were enjoying one last glass of țuică before heading home. It would soon be time for Lioara to nurse.
“I spent years unable to remember anything, as if there had only been darkness throughout my childhood,” Edric said thoughtfully, setting his empty glass on a railing. “But ever since the Elders died, I can picture the place, you two as children, our parents. It really does look like the valley where we lived.”
“They would have liked meeting their grandchildren. Do you think they would still be alive?” Aldren looked at us. “Maybe they would have lived longer, like us—seven or eight hundred years.”
“It’s a shame we’ll never know. But what they left behind will never be forgotten. We are a family now, just as they wanted,” I said quietly.
“My older brother, my middle brother. Who would have thought?” Edric stood between us and draped an arm around each of our shoulders. “We’re together, and that’s what matters.”
“Yes. And one day our children will be the leaders of these lands,” Aldren confirmed proudly.
I agreed, watching the snow fall while feeling them beside me.
Our pups would inherit this legacy centuries from now. And even though the territories were at peace, there was much more beyond the Tharnak.
They might encounter enemies among wolves, humans, witches, vampires, and other hybrids that coexisted throughout the world. Even species similar to the Elders—a mixture of various organisms.
The Prophecy said we would live in peace, but ambition and wickedness still remained realities.
“We’ll teach them from childhood to be honorable.” I turned toward them, the three of us united. “We’ll make sure they know their history, value who we are, and protect those under their care.”
They nodded solemnly.
When we went back inside, my eyes found those of my gypsy. She looked beautiful in her jewelry and long gown, her hair cascading down her back like fire.
Love consumed me from within, and I longed to hold her in my arms, to build a future together, to expand our family and fill our lives with even more love.
She smiled at me, and I walked toward Seraphine, deeply in love and completely happy.
The Supreme Alphas were only the beginning.
There was still so much more ahead of us.
The years would pass, seasons changing as endlessly as the snowfall that blanketed the Tharnak that night.
Children would grow.
Stories would become legends.
And the battles we had fought would slowly transform into memories passed from one generation to the next.
The world beyond our territories never stopped moving.
Kingdoms would rise and fall. Humans would continue writing their own version of history, unaware of the truths hidden among forests, mountains, and ancient bloodlines.
Peace had been won, but destiny never truly slept.
Some stories had reached their conclusion.
Others were only beginning.
Far beyond the lands protected by the Supreme Alphas, among crowded cities and lecture halls filled with people who knew nothing of wolves, prophecies, or Elders, fate was quietly weaving new threads.
Threads tied to old friendships.
To forgotten memories.
To secrets that had survived the passage of time.
And to a young woman who had grown up hearing stories about the Supreme Alphas and a wolf named Anton.
A name she barely remembered.
A face she could no longer recall.
Yet somehow, his presence lingered in the deepest corners of her mind, like an unfinished story waiting to be told.
Neither of them knew it yet.
But destiny had already begun moving its pieces.
(...)
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
I watched the clock hands on the wall, focused on the movements marking the passage of seconds.
Professor Logan's voice resonated through the room, reverberating in a firm tone as he explained national history to the class.
The walls, a yellow that resembled the color of an egg yolk, were peeling at the corners. I knew exactly how many cracks there were in the paint, after so much time spent observing them. The university rector was a great fan of the color — if he wasn't wearing a yellow shirt with his typical grey suit, it was the tie. Obviously, his so very... atypical taste was a running joke among the students.
Being the daughter of a historian gave me certain advantages, such as understanding in depth the subject matter my classmates were only just beginning to learn. Even though I knew every subject by heart, I was required to attend university — that is, if I wanted a degree so I could teach classes in the future, the way my father did.
I didn't have many ambitions in life, but being just like my father was certainly one of them. He was the most intelligent man I had ever known, a role model to be followed.
I adjusted my posture and turned my head, studying my classmates. They were all human, every single one of them, with the exception of me. People who studied history but had no idea about the truth of the world in which they lived.
Werewolves were nothing more than myths. Some students whispered about cursed beings that had gone extinct over time; others believed they lived hidden in the forest. There were many rumors, most of them about the Tharnak, a locality not so far away, encompassed by a dense forest and, according to rumors, cursed, since no one who entered it ever returned to tell the tale.
I knew the truth, however.
My father had told me many times about the packs, the Supreme Alphas, and about his great friend, Edric Eldoria. I had a very vague memory of having once been in that region. The most vivid image I possessed was of deep blue eyes, threaded with silver tones and pupils as black as night.
Those same eyes used to appear in my dreams, now and then. It was as though my mind forced me to remember them.
I let out a resigned sigh and brought the tip of the pencil to my lips, chewing on it.
Professor Logan gestured in front of the class, waving his arms frantically as he explained, as if he wanted to draw even more attention to himself. The man, slightly over five feet tall, with thinning hair, a sharp and long nose, a thin and wiry body, was very intelligent and a complete tyrant. He appeared harmless, but was relatively cruel to his students. Well... I didn't think it was quite that bad. He tested what he taught in class — if someone was distracted, they would struggle with his subject. And that made him the terror of undergraduates.
I blinked, twisting my lips into a grimace.