Chapter 43
Abigail's POV
I was still on my knees, my throat burning, each heartbeat tugging at the wound on my arm with dull pain. Elodie was frozen in place like a statue, her hand gripping my uninjured arm so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
I could almost feel her tension radiating from her skin like heat waves, could hear her short, erratic breathing. She opened her mouth, wanting to say something, to defend me, to find some less terrifying explanation for this sudden danger.
I gently pressed my other hand over her knuckles. Then I raised my head and forced myself to meet Harper's gaze directly.
"I had a dream," I began, my voice rough and broken from the strangling. I swallowed a mouthful of blood-heavy saliva and spoke again. "I dreamed you would be attacked during the afternoon prayers. When I woke, I knew it wasn't an ordinary dream. It... felt like a warning from the Moon Goddess herself."
The air seemed to grow heavier.
Harper didn't move. She didn't even blink. Candlelight danced across her face, adding deeper shadows to her sharp cheekbones and sunken eye sockets. Elodie's grip on my arm tightened further. I heard her gasp, then almost immediately hold her breath. She was afraid of Harper, afraid of the guards, afraid of what consequences these words might bring. I didn't blame her—my own heart was pounding wildly in my chest.
The silence stretched on too long, so long it was nearly suffocating.
Finally, after what felt like a century, Harper spoke.
"This was no ordinary dream," she said slowly. "This was the Moon Goddess's Vision."
I froze slightly. "Vision?"
This was completely outside my expectations. I had already prepared myself mentally to be questioned, interrogated, even detained on the spot—had lined up a whole arsenal of explanations, reasons, lies, half-truths all queued in my mind.
I never expected she would hand me a better answer herself: an explanation that made perfect sense within her world. And it was more convincing than any story I could have invented.
Harper descended the steps with measured pace, her white robes making soft friction sounds against the stone. She walked past the guards and the assassin, came before me, and slowly knelt down.
Up close, I could clearly make out the fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth, a few strands of dull color mixed in her silver hair, and the barely perceptible tremor at her fingertips as she reached out.
"The Moon Goddess chooses a very few souls," she said quietly, her fingers hovering above my torn sleeve, "allowing them to glimpse fragments of what has yet to occur. This is an exceedingly rare blessing, and those who possess it often must pay a heavy price."
Warmth suddenly flowed from her palm, spreading along my skin. The heat was so intense I instinctively shivered. I looked down reflexively at the wound just carved by the blade—the edges of torn flesh slowly drawing together, blood flow gradually stopping, the stabbing pain replaced by a strange tingling sensation.
Within seconds, the split skin became smooth again, leaving only a faint reddish mark barely visible beneath the torn fabric.
Elodie let out a strangled sound beside me, her mouth hanging open in shock. If I hadn't still been holding her hand, she probably would have collapsed straight to the floor.
Harper withdrew her hand and slowly stood.
"Tell me your name, child."
"Abigail," I answered. "Abigail Rodriguez. Member of Crimson Fang, daughter of Alpha Matthew."
The moment "Crimson Fang" left my lips, I saw Harper's mouth tighten for an instant, a shadow passing across her face before being quickly suppressed. Her gaze remained fixed on me. I struggled to maintain composure, the tightness in my chest like a string pulled to its limit, barely managing to maintain surface calm.
After a long while, she nodded slightly.
"You saved my life. I may grant you one wish in return. Speak, Abigail Rodriguez. What do you desire?"
My heart nearly burst through my ribs. I lowered my gaze, deliberately letting my shoulders draw in slightly, making myself look more like a somewhat awkward youth rather than a chess player negotiating with purpose.
"I... would like to see the temple archives. I've heard the library here holds many ancient texts about the Moon Goddess and her revelations. I've always been curious about those stories that almost no one mentions anymore, those... versions that aren't commonly told."
As long as I could step into the archives, it would mean a chance to access bloodlines, family genealogies, records from bygone eras... all the clues related to "who I am" might be hidden there.
Harper observed me in silence as before, and though the years had carved marks on her face, her eyes remained clear and sharp, as if no detail could escape them.
After a long moment, she finally nodded.
"Very well. Tomorrow morning, I will have someone take you to the archives." She paused, as if to add weight to what came next. "But remember, child—the Moon Goddess's Vision is both gift and shackle. Guard it carefully and do not profane it lightly."
"I won't."
Harper turned to the guards. "Take the prisoner to the cells. After the blessing ceremony concludes, I will question them personally." She glanced back at us one last time, her gaze lingering on Elodie and me for a moment. "You two should return to your quarters and rest. Tomorrow will be a long day."
I pushed myself up from the ground, my legs still carrying a slight weakness. Elodie fumbled to help me, nearly losing her own balance. We made our way toward the door along the path we'd come, her hand still clutching my arm like a lifeline, almost unwilling to let go.
Behind us came the sounds of guards dragging the assassin away—boots scraping against stone mixed with the clink of chains. Further back was Harper's low, calm voice giving orders. I couldn't make out the specific content, only sensing that undeniable authority.
Not until we stepped out of the inner sanctum and the heavy wooden door closed behind us, sealing all of that away in the shadows on the other side, did the corridor air suddenly become cool and thin, and we finally came back to ourselves.