Chapter 16 The Call of Fate, The Weight of Loss
THE CALL OF FATE, THE WEIGHT OF LOSS
“One day, the world will kneel to the woman with blue roses in her blood.”
—Eyleen ársa
Noel
These past few days have been nothing but chaos.
Everything I thought I knew about the world has been shattered, and I haven’t had a second to breathe, never mind process anything.
Now, a goddess—an actual goddess—has appeared and told me I’m some kind of leader and that I’m supposed to restore balance? Restore what? How?
Frustration claws at the inside of my chest. I’m angry. Furious. How could everything fall apart so fast? I had my whole life planned: become a commander, change the stupid laws of Tárnov, take control of my life.
I already made so many changes in the foolish military system.
I even proposed jobs “suitable for women,” at least according to men’s egos.
But that’s alright, we can start small by letting women have jobs.
It might begin with office roles, but then it could expand to every position. I believed I could make a change.
But now, I’m . . . lost.
“Why me?” The words spill out, my voice rising without my permission. “Why do I have to be the one to fix everything?”
Mate? Leader? Restore balance?
“Noel . . .” He moves closer. Theron. His presence, so calm, doesn’t soothe me at all. It just reminds me of the expectations everyone has heaped on top of me.
I snap.
“You have no idea! I’ve been kidnapped, thrown into a prophecy I never asked for, and now a goddess tells me I’m supposed to restore balance?
I don’t even know what that means!” My voice cracks.
“And all of this after my mother . . . after she—” I swallow hard, tears blur my vision.
“After she died. I didn’t even get a moment to grieve, not a single moment! ”
Theron’s expression softens, his hazel eyes filled with sympathy. It only makes me angrier.
“Don’t look at me like that!” I shout. “Don’t act like you understand! You weren’t there. You didn’t see her die. You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything in a matter of days.”
Theron’s massive body is shading me, but I don’t care how big he is. I glare up at him. I refuse to back down.
As soon as I felt I could finally take control of my life . . . it all crumbled.
“Remember when I told you I felt the blue rose within you?” he says, his voice so calm, so infuriatingly calm.
I grit my teeth. “Yes, and what does that even mean?”
He drops to his knees beside me, reaching out to take my hand. Even when he kneels, I’m not as tall as him. “The blue rose is a symbol of power. It’s been with you all along, guiding you, giving you strength.”
I yank my hand out of his grip. “Strength? What strength?” My breath comes in short bursts. “The only thing that happened was that I had my mother’s handkerchief. It had a crystal in it—”
Theron dips his chin. “The blue rose has been with you all your life. It’s more than a symbol. It’s part of you. The goddess spoke of it because she knows how important it is.”
I can’t take it anymore. His calmness, his explanations, his talk of destiny and blue roses, it’s all too much. I feel like I’m drowning, and no matter how much I fight to stay above water, I’m still sinking.
My body shakes with frustration. “I don’t care about the blue rose! I don’t want it! I don’t want any of this!” I turn away from him, trying to breathe, trying to calm myself down, but it’s useless.
“Thousands of years ago, humans, vólkins, and spirits lived in harmony. Nature provided for us, and we nurtured and respected it. There were no wars or hunger, and no suffering,” Theron says, pointing at the flora and fauna around us.
“Then something happened, and the balance in nature was disturbed.” He sighs.
“For a reason we do not know, we have been trapped behind a strong barrier that didn’t let anyone escape. For four centuries.”
Why is he telling me all this?
“A barrier? What do you mean?” I didn’t see any barrier.
Theron looks into my eyes, his expression serious. “It was an invisible wall that surrounded ávera and its forests. No one could pass through it, not vólkins, not spirits, not even the goddesses.”
“I walked into the forest just fine,” I say, but the words feel wrong even as they leave my lips.
When I ran into the woods, I crossed whatever invisible threshold Theron’s talking about.
I didn’t feel anything. No force. No barrier.
And yet . . . When I was running through the forest, I did notice changes in my surroundings.
I thought it was normal, given the fact that I’ve never been in a forest before, but now that I think about it, the berries Theron and I gathered were sweeter than the berries I ate in Tárnov.
Even the apples were rounder, and their color was deeper.
A four-hundred-year-old curse, undone in an instant. Because of me?
I don’t know whether to laugh or be sick.
“That was when you started restoring the balance,” he says, giving me a flower that he just picked from the ground near me. “I believe the moment you crossed it, the barrier lifted.”
It can’t be so simple. But also . . . Why would he lie? And . . . a goddess appeared. I don’t know what to think, truly. “Why would that happen?”
“I think because you are the blue rose, my Noel. Blue roses are sacred, and the ones who carry them in their blood are very powerful.”
For generations, women couldn’t leave the villages . . .
A woman who is born in Tárnov, dies in Tárnov.
That’s what we were taught since we were little girls. Whenever I looked at the main gates, I always saw the sad gazes of the village women. No one dared to question it. But now I know why. Of course.
If we couldn’t leave the village, and I was the one who lifted this barrier . . . It can only mean one thing—the barrier is known, and the tsar and the army didn’t want it to be destroyed. And yet . . .
I was a soldier, a commander. But never a leader of prophecy. Never the kind of woman Theron’s talking about.
I glance up at him. “How do you know all this?”
“Every spirit, every vólkin, and all the goddesses know it. A woman is born, radiant like the dawn, a beacon of light. She grows with the essence of the earth and sky. Her spirit is tied to the soil, and her soul dances with the winds.” He looks into my eyes with a kind of awe that both confuses and terrifies me. “You are a child of nature, Noel.”
Something stirs within me, something buried so far down I didn’t even know it was there. The warmth of his words, his gaze—it’s all too familiar.
Mother.
We were in our secret garden. I was young then, and she taught me about the blue rose.
The light of the setting sun bathed everything in gold.
Her fingers ran through my hair as she spoke.
“The blue rose is special, Noel. It represents the power and potential inside us, something that connects us to the world in ways we can’t always understand.
You have this power within you, my dear.
You are a child of nature, don’t ever forget that. ”
I remember the pride in her eyes, the same kind I see now in Theron’s.
Tears well up inside me. “She always told me I was meant for great things,” I whisper, my voice cracking, “but she never told me it was for this.”
Theron moves closer, his large paw cupping my cheek. His warmth spreads through me, and the tears spill over.
“I miss her so much,” I choke out. “She taught me how to care for the blue rose, how to keep it alive. She trained me to lead. She pushed me into the military, prepared me for . . .”
I have to fight to breathe now. “But she never told me this. She never said it was for this. Restoring balance, being some . . . leader!” My voice rises in desperation. “Why didn’t she tell me? Why did she leave me to figure all this out on my own?”
I clutch Theron’s fur, gripping it tightly, my tears soaking his chest. I feel like I’m drowning. “Why didn’t she prepare me for this?”
Theron stays silent, his stone-like arms pulling me tight as I cry into him. The comfort of his fur surrounds me, but it’s not enough to dull the pain twisting in my chest. Nothing can take away the ache of being left in the dark by the one person I trusted the most.
“She knew, didn’t she?” I sob, looking up at him through my tears. “She knew the whole time, and she didn’t tell me.”
Theron’s eyes glisten, his own sorrow reflecting mine. “Noel,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry.” He brushes his paw over my head, but there are no words that can fix this. He can’t give me back my mother. He can’t make sense of this mess.
So I cling to him, holding on like he’s the only thing anchoring me to this world. My heart feels like it’s being ripped in two—one half lost in grief for my mother, the other half breaking under the weight of this prophecy I never asked for.
Theron holds me, nuzzles into my hair, and I feel his breath against my scalp. His embrace cages me, wraps around me like a shield against the chaos in my mind.
“I am so sorry,” he repeats, his voice rough but tender, as if my pain is his own.
I melt into the hug, my cheek presses against him, and I murmur, “Thank you.”
But . . . this doesn’t change what I have to do.
“But,” I begin, my voice muffled by his damp chest. “I need to find out what happened to my mother.” I pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “I can’t go with you to ávera and leave everything behind.”
I don’t break eye contact. He needs to understand. No matter how this prophecy will unfold, I can’t abandon the truth. My mother’s death— There’s still so much I don’t know, too much left unresolved.
Theron’s paw moves to my face, brushing my hair back as he searches my eyes.
“I went to the holiest place in ávera, The sacred glade, to ask the goddesses for guidance before I found you,” he says.
His eyes shift, reflecting the thin silver light of the moon.
I hadn’t even noticed how the day went by, and I spent it with Theron.
His silhouette shines with the moon’s glow.
The contrast between his dangerous appearance and the gentleness in his voice makes my heart beat faster.
“The goddesses had been giving me signs,” he continues, “showing me that you were near, that my destiny was close.” He looks up, his gaze distant. “As an answer to my prayer, a beautiful white dove appeared in the night sky, blessing me with a single blue rose petal.”
I follow his gaze to the sky, my eyes tracing the outlines of clouds passing over the moon. The cool breeze tugs at my hair, and my skin prickles as his attention moves back to me. “Blue rose petal?”
“The goddesses have been guiding me to you,” he says, caressing my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin. “And you, to me.”
Theron straightens his posture. “We will find out what happened to your mother.” His expression sharpens. “You can trust me.”
I realize then that I’ve been holding my breath. The tension I’ve been carrying for days finally finds a release. Goose bumps rise along my neck where his paw rests, and I can’t help but lean into his touch, even though my mind still reels with questions.
“Little dove,” he whispers.
I blink up at him. What?
I don’t know how to respond. My mother used to call me “my little rose,” but no one has ever called me a dove. And yet, when I look up at him, I don’t pull away.
I should. But I don’t.