Chapter 31 Six Will Rise Under The Crescent’s Watch
SIX WILL RISE UNDER THE CRESCENT’S WATCH
“When the moon turns thrice and the veil thins, she will rise with soil on her skin and fire in her blood. The first of six, born of sorrow and silence. The world will know her not by name, but by the weight of her vow.”
—Láda Velé?a, Goddess of Leadership and War
Theron
“The bonding ritual is a sacred tradition, Your Majesty,” Elder A?na says, her paws resting behind her back. “The last time it was performed was before the barrier appeared.”
We’re gathered in the council room. My mate’s declaration still echoes in my mind and my pride hasn’t calmed since. Her vow to restore the balance felt like peering into the dream I’ve carried since I was a pup.
The earth cries out, its pain born from the greed of men. Humans who know no satiety, no balance. ádám was no different, seduced by a snake in the guise of a human female, even though he had éva, our mother. Why would he forsake her? The answer is simple: greed.
I feel anger rise within me, not just at humanity’s selfishness but at my own ancestors, the vólkins who stood by and did nothing.
They had their mates, their peace, and ignored the cries of the human women who suffered under men’s control.
Time passed, and men’s power grew, until now, when women are confined to their villages.
“One of the goddesses said we’d meet at the bonding ritual,” Noel says, gripping the edge of the round table for support.
Her body has been weak since she woke yesterday, and she’s still unable to stand for long.
She argued with me earlier, insisting she didn’t want to be held like a child in the council room.
So we compromised. I carry her only when she tires or needs to be moved.
I’m not pleased that her body is suffering, but I can’t deny the selfish satisfaction I feel in being able to hold her.
From the moment we met, carrying her has been my greatest honor.
Elder A?na tilts her head, her ears flicking. “The goddess will be present? That is . . . unprecedented.”
“Elder A?na,” I say with pride swelling in my chest, “I remind you that we are speaking of the six, especially the leader.”
Noel lifts her chin, her gaze catching mine. “The six?”
I nod. “The prophecy speaks of six human females and their six mates, who will unite and together will restore balance.”
“Since I am the leader,” my mate murmurs.
“Five more,” I finish her sentence.
“Where is this prophecy written? How does everyone know of it?” she asks.
“Before the goddesses disappeared, they whispered the prophecy through the trees,” Mina says before I can speak. “Elder A?na taught us all their words.”
Elder A?na’s gaze is warm as she looks at Noel. “Ethereal Leader, would you like to hear the words of the goddesses?”
Noel grips the edge of the round table tighter. I trace my claws over her back, offering support. She glances up at me, and I nod.
“The prophecy speaks of a leader born of the blue-rose lineage, who will restore balance to our world.”
As Elder A?na begins to speak, a soft breeze drifts through the room, carrying with it the fresh, earthy scent of the forest. The carved roses on the council room walls pulse with a gentle blue light.
The vólkins in the room straighten, their postures instinctively proud. Mina, Na?a, and Essin stand on our right, with Kael, Aeson, and Zephyr on the left. My mate and I stand before Elder A?na as she speaks.
“In the heart of ávera’s ancient woods, where moonlight gently hugged the earth, a sacred prophecy whispered through the forest. Secrets floated on the wind, known only to the wise.
Amidst the mystical land, where spirits roamed and goddesses wove our fate, the Mother’s words echoed through time.
Shadows danced, a connection between two worlds.
Essence and soul will unite, tied by destiny’s threads.
A coming together of spirit, body, and mind—a dance guided by moonlight and earth’s embrace.
Yet, as this celestial dance unfolds, a shadow threatens to break ávera’s destiny. ”
Elder A?na pauses as the wind grows stronger. The blue roses glow so bright their light reflects in the eyes of everyone present.
Noel stands tall despite her condition, her focus remains locked on Elder A?na.
“The prophecy, whispered by the winds, spoke of a union between earthly souls and ethereal beings, a timeless bond that once upheld nature’s balance.
But shadows hinted at disruption—a force conspiring to shatter harmony.
” Elder A?na’s voice rises. “Six will rise under the crescent’s glow, each bearing the mark of the ancient vow. ”
Noel’s hand tightens on my arm. “I’ve heard this before,” she murmurs.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Every vólkin knows the prophecy by heart, but hearing it now, in her presence, makes my fur stand on end, the ancient words gripping my soul.
“The Leader,” Elder A?na continues, and to my surprise, Noel joins her.
Their voices blend together as one. “With vision clear, shall unite and guide. The Healer’s touch, life anew, against the tide.
The Warrior stands, fierce and true, a protectorate’s might.
The Scholar’s wisdom, a beacon of light.
The Sentinel’s bond, with nature entwined.
The Seer’s gaze, through the veils of time.
Together they stand, against the night’s embrace, to heal the rift and restore grace. ”
I open my eyes, and the council room is transformed. Blue petals drift through the air, falling from above like a gentle rain, as if the prophecy has awakened the walls’ essence.
The vólkins in the room exchange glances, but Elder A?na’s attention remains fixed on my mate. I place my paw on her head, running it down her braid. My Noel looks around the room, her narrowed eyes studying each face.
“Noel?” I say, lowering myself to her level.
She meets my gaze but shifts her weight to lean toward the table. Ah, her legs are tiring. I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her into my hold. Compromising with her earlier was wise. She murmurs a quiet thank you as she grips the fur of my chest to steady herself.
“If we’re to find the remaining five,” she begins, her eyes sweeping over the room, “we’ll need to reach all the women in every village across the land.”
“Currently, there are vólkins stationed beyond the border,” I say, holding her closer. “They’re studying the human villages nearby—their layouts, patrol routines, and defenses. We must understand the world outside before we act.”
Noel nods. “The land is ruled by a tsar, with knyzya governing the five biggest villages under his command. Tárnov, Róstan, Yáarím, Gráyárk, and Velháven—the capital. Around every big village, there are smaller ones without a knyaz, which means that their defenses are less than the main five. I’ve only been to Tárnov, so most of what I know comes from my mother’s wisdom and my military training.
But I’m beginning to piece together a clearer picture of what’s happening. ”
Aeson leans forward, while Kael stands with his arms crossed, his expression serious.
“I met the tsar once,” Noel continues, brushing a few shorter hairs back from her face. “When I saw his warriors, they wore uniforms embroidered with a blue rose.”
“What’s a uniform?” Kael asks.
“Human warrior clothing,” I explain.
“So, this tsar knows of the blue rose,” Aeson says.
“It’s not a flower that grows naturally,” Zephyr adds.
Noel’s eyes harden, and I feel the tension in her muscles. “The tsar is who sets the rules for humans,” she says. “One of those rules restricts women to their villages. A woman who is born in Tárnov dies in Tárnov. It’s a saying everyone knows.”
A growl rumbles through my warriors, and I share their anger. That same rage burned in me the first time I heard those words.
“Your Majesty.” Na?a speaks up. “If women aren’t allowed to leave the villages, and this tsar knows of the blue rose . . .”
“It means he knows of the barrier,” Elder A?na says, her voice grave. “And he knows of its power.”
Zephyr’s claws dig into the table, leaving visible marks on the stone. “If the tsar knows about the barrier, then he knows about us.”
The room falls into silence. Humans are taught to fear and hate vólkins. But they don’t know much about us. They don’t know our abilities, they don’t know our way of life. They only know that we are mindless beasts who can’t even speak.
“We should strike now, before he has the chance to act first!” Kael says, leaning forward.
Zephyr exhales, and I can see the effort it takes him to fight the urge to shake his head. His restraint is admirable.
“If the tsar—or his ancestors—has knowledge of magic so dark and powerful that it could trap us and the goddesses inside ávera for so long,” I say, tracing my claws over my mate’s hair, “then we cannot underestimate him. We have been isolated for centuries, Kael. We do not know what humans are capable of now. And they most likely outnumber us. Acting impulsively might lead us to ruin.”
The quiet is broken by my mate’s voice. “Then we will undergo trials to test our strength first.”
“Trials?” I ask.
“Yes. We will create challenges for all the males. Tests of physical endurance, strategic thinking, and teamwork.”
That is a very good idea.
“They can span two days,” she continues, “and they will give me the chance to get to know everyone better.”
The fire in her eyes burns brightly. That fire is something I will never tire of, even if it stirs my beast and makes controlling myself a daily battle. This will be a long week, and it seems the first challenge is taming myself and my cock.
We spend the rest of the day touring ávera and greeting our people. My little dove is determined to fulfill her role as leader. Every time her legs tire, I lift her into my arms without question and carry her as we move forward together.