Chapter 38 The Echoes of the Fallen and the Strength to Rise Again
THE ECHOES OF THE FALLEN AND THE STRENGTH TO RISE AGAIN
“He came out growling, Vládan. Not crying, growling. I swear the goddesses tucked a storm in his lungs and claws in his smile. This one will lead. His roar will silence storms, and his silence will make tsars tremble. I don’t need a vision to see it. I’ve grown it in my womb.”
—ánya Volkóva to her mate, Vládan, the night Theron was born
Noel
She was supposed to be the leader. The Lidé?en.
All my mother wanted was a world where I could breathe without asking permission.
Theron holds my face with both paws, his eyes on mine, grounding me in the storm of emotions. “Noel,” he whispers.
“My mother . . .” I falter, my throat burns. “My mother was raped and abused for years. She lost her parents. She was so strong, Theron. She didn’t even know it. She had no idea how strong she was!” The words burst out, cutting through the silence in this cold house.
Theron pulls me into his arms. “Your mother was a true warrior.”
“She endured so much, Theron.” My voice breaks as I bury my face in his fur. “She sacrificed everything for me. She went through so much pain . . . She wanted to raise me here, with my father, with ándor.”
In another life, my mother could have chosen herself first. She could have traveled with no restrictions, lived her dreams, read all the books in the world. And never looked back. She’d have danced around the fire at midnight, laughed without worries.
She’d never have had to give herself away.
Theron’s hold tightens. “She will be remembered by everyone, my mate. I vow this to you.”
I nod into his chest as tears well in my eyes. “There’s more,” I whisper.
Theron releases me, his paws resting on my waist. “Do you want me to read it?”
I shake my head. This is something I want to do.
Taking a deep breath, I open the diary again. My fingers brush against a piece of paper tucked between the pages, its edges yellowed and brittle, even older than the diary itself. I pull it out, unfold it carefully, and my hands tremble as I prepare for what it might reveal.
The Barrier of Sovereignty and the Eradication of the Vólkin Threat
On the 12th moon of the year 314, by order of Tsar Aldrik I, the vólkin threat was eradicated, and the Barrier of Sovereignty was raised to ensure humanity’s dominion over the land.
Sixty-four spiritual beings were sacrificed to fuel the creation of the barrier.
The vólkins and their human mates were lured beyond the borders of ávera.
The Tsar’s men, armed with arrows forged to pierce spiritual crystals, targeted the women’s heads.
As each crystal shattered, their bearers fell.
The vólkins, bound to their mates by the goddesses’ will, perished immediately.
The bodies of the fallen were collected and burned to form the foundation of the ritual to raise the barrier. Their ashes were scattered at the six points around the land, and the power of sixty-four spiritual beings was harnessed by the incantations of the Council of Crown.
The Barrier of Sovereignty was declared impenetrable, severing ávera from the outside world. Within, the vólkins are confined, their influence extinguished. Beyond, humanity will thrive under the Crown’s divine authority, free from the interference of nature’s guardians.
The prophecy of the Lidé?en remains the greatest threat to this balance. Should the blood of the blue rose awaken, the barrier will falter, and the spirits of the fallen may rise again to undo what was built. The Tsar and his descendants must guard against this prophecy at all costs.
This document is to remain within the Tsar’s study. Any attempt to uncover the truth of the barrier’s creation or the identities of the sixty-four sacrificed beings is punishable by death.
The Sixty-Four Sacrificed to Raise the Barrier of Sovereignty
1 Miroslár and Tatiána Kholína (Sister to Míra, Tárnov)
2 Drágan and Miléna Drazíc (Merchant’s Daughter, Róstan)
3 Rádon and Zóra Ková? (Noble of Tárnov)
4 Míslaven and Vésna Petróva (Healer of Gráyárk)
5 Boríslon and Lyuba Tarnóvska (Lord’s Daughter, Vódany)
6 Zóran and Míra Kholína (Citizen of Tárnov)
7 Rádomir and Daníca Thórne (Lady of Velháven)
8 Srdján and ívana Haymoor (Noblewoman of Yáarím)
9 Bódan and Jeléna Vorst (Village Elder’s Daughter, Róstan)
10 Vukásin and Katarína Markóvicová (Noble of Velháven)
11 Brán and Sláva Ríke (Merchant’s Wife, Gráyárk)
12 Stánimir and Natálya Tarnóvska (Sister to Lyuba, Vódany)
13 Velímir and Rádmila Ivanóvic (Citizen of Velháven)
14 Dobromír and Sofíya Ková? (Noblewoman of Tárnov)
15 Vládan and ánya Volkóva (House Volkóv, Nobility of Velháven)
16 Unknown
17 Unknown
18 Unknown
19 Unknown
20 . . .
—Council of Crown, Year 314, The Royal Court
“ánya and Vládan,” I whisper and immediately turn my gaze to Theron.
“I walked past my parents’ ashes for four hundred years.” His hold on me tightens, and I understand. We’ve both come to learn the unbearable truths of what our parents endured. This is beyond inhumane.
“The barrier wasn’t just a prison for the vólkins,” Theron continues, his voice low and trembling. “It was a tomb for their legacy.” His hazel eyes glisten with unshed tears, and my chest tightens at the sight.
I pull him closer, my arms wrapping around him as I lean in and say, “We will restore the balance. We’ll kill the tsar and every one of his men. We will never let anything like that happen again.”
“My mate,” Theron breathes as he buries his snout into the crook of my neck.
I hold him as tightly as I can, pouring every bit of strength I have into the embrace. “We will remember them all.” My vow rings in the silence like a promise carved in stone.
After a while, we pull away from each other, though everything we’ve shared is heavy in the air. Without a word, we rise and move to return to the vólkins waiting for us. I have no idea how much time has passed since we entered my parents’ home, but it doesn’t matter. It’s time to go back.
Theron and I . . . we’re closer now. The bond between us feels unbreakable. I know, without a doubt, that I can trust him with my life.
We’ve both learned the depths of what our families endured—the terror they faced—and together, we’ve vowed to make this world a better place. A place where their sacrifices won’t be forgotten. There will be war.
My mother. My father. All the vólkins and their mates. They will be remembered.
As we step out of the home, everyone’s eyes are already on us. Even before we cross the threshold.
They all look broken.
They heard it all.
The trip back to ávera is silent. I sit on Theron’s back as he runs, and the others follow close behind. No one speaks. What we’ve learned hangs heavy over all of us, each lost in our own thoughts.
I clutch my mother’s diary tightly, the document of the incident tucked inside it.
Still, there’s some relief in the truth I learned. I don’t know exactly how my mother died, but now I know her story. Her struggles. Her strength. The pieces of the past are beginning to fall into place.
Our mission is clear.
Find the five. Kill the tsar. Destroy his men. Restore balance.
The trials will begin tomorrow, and with them, our chance to push ourselves, to discover our limits, and to reshape the forces that will fight alongside us. Theron has trained them well.
The shelters are built, and we’ve learned of three nearby villages. That’s where we’ll start. But trials first, then the bonding ritual. One step at a time.
By the time we return to ávera, night has fallen. We’re greeted as though we’ve returned with victory. No one but us knows the truth.
Theron hasn’t spoken a word since we left the house.
At the entrance, where trees part and streams flow, vólkins of all ages gather.
They all look excited and eager, and soon, I will pop that bubble of hope.
Elder A?na steps forward with Mina, Na?a, and Essin. They bow, and the others follow their lead.
Theron lowers himself and I dismount, my boots crunching against the ground. I feel nothing. No triumph or anger. Nothing but a hollow numbness.
“Elder A?na,” I say. “The Lidé?en was once someone else.”
Elder A?na’s expression shifts, and her eyes widen as she murmurs, “The ancient language.”
I continue, my voice strong enough so everyone can hear. “Today, we uncovered the truth of the barrier’s creation. The generation that gave us life was destroyed by the children of the Snake. Tonight, we will honor our people. We will perform the farewell ritual.”
Mina raises a paw to her chest. “Your Majesty,”
“Prepare everything,” I command. “The wax, the herbs, the wood. Tonight, we’ll honor the fallen and their stories. We will give them the farewell they deserve.”
The warriors who returned with us, their faces are etched with exhaustion and grief. My gaze lingers on Theron, and my chest tightens. He looks distant, his strength and presence overshadowed by the sorrow in his eyes. The others wear the same broken expressions.
“We will remember them,” I say firmly. “Your parents. Your loved ones. Their sacrifices won’t be forgotten. And while we can’t punish those responsible—they’ve long since died—we will end their legacy.”
Pressing my hand over my heart, just like I’ve seen them do, I step closer to the group. “We will hunt down every son and father. We will burn their lands and take what rightfully belongs to us. Vathéria will be ours, as it was always meant to be.” I clench my fists. “That is my promise to you.”
A low growl ripples through the vólkins surrounding me. It’s the sound of revenge.
This is what we need. Tomorrow, in the first trial, their anger will become their strength. It will carry them through the fire. And in battle, it will be their weapon.
I turn to Theron. He supported me when I was at my lowest, and now it’s my turn to be there for him. I take his paw in my hands, and his grip tightens.
When our eyes meet, I see the sorrow he can’t hide. It’s raw, etched into every line of his face. My heart aches for him.
“Do you know what your parents loved?” I ask as others disperse, leaving us be. “Let’s honor them with it . . . for their farewell.”
Theron leads me down a path I’ve never taken before, far from the streams, our home, and even the sacred glade.
“Where are we going?” I ask, my hand wrapped around his paw.
“To a place I visit often,” he answers. His expression is calm, but there’s more to it. “As you read in the document, my mother was a noble. I always knew that. Elder A?na told me she loved the finer things in life. When she met my father, he promised her every luxury she could imagine.”
A small smile pulls at my lips. ánya loved expensive things—it suits the image I have of her.
Thinking of Theron growing up in a house filled with nobility makes sense.
He’s so composed and dignified, a noble vólkin to his core.
Even the way he arranges my meals, the way he refuses to let the different foods in my bowl touch, reflects that.
“How did they meet?” I ask, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as we walk. The vólkin homes are far behind us now.
“Elder A?na doesn’t remember the details for every couple, but she said the women all escaped their villages in some way,”
“Just like my mother,”
Theron nods and turns his gaze ahead.
I follow his line of sight to a large hill rising on the edge of ávera. “Are we going up that hill?”
“Almost.”
The path ahead, leading to a high cliff overlooking the ocean to the west of ávera, is clearer than the forest we left behind. The trees thin out as we go, and the cooler wind bites at my skin. Walking keeps me warm.
Theron points to what looks like the mouth of a cave.
“Here?” I ask.
“I found this cave when I was a youngling,” he says. “Elder A?na told me it wasn’t by chance. She said the cave called to me for a reason.”
We pass through dense bushes, which Theron holds aside to make the path easier for me. The cave’s entrance comes into view, wide and framed by greenery. The way the light filters through the bushes outside creates patterns that dance on the stone walls within. It’s beautiful.
“My mother liked colorful gems,” Theron says as he guides me toward a pile of furs near the cave wall. “My father would come here often to gather the most beautiful crystals he could find for her.”
“Did you bring these furs here to sit on?”
Theron shakes his head, a small smile playing on his mouth. “My mother loved to watch my father work,” he says as he sits beside me. The warmth in his expression tells me how deeply he cherishes those memories. ánya sounds like such a lively, spirited person.
“I wonder what it would’ve been like if our parents had met,” I say.
The thought of my mother sitting with ánya, chatting over cups of tea, brings an unexpected smile to my face. My mother, always so reserved and serious, paired with someone as vibrant as ánya—it feels like they’d complement each other perfectly. I think they could’ve been great friends.
I pat my thighs.
It catches Theron’s attention, and he tilts his head. “What’s that? A human custom?”
Shaking my head with a small smile, I say, “It’s an invitation. When I was little, I’d rest on my mother’s lap, and she would sing me lullabies.”
Theron shifts back, studying me before carefully resting his head on my thighs. The weight of him warms my heart.
“Are you comfortable?” I ask, brushing my fingers over his fur.
He nuzzles his snout against my knees. “Very.”
My fingers trace over his pointed ears, smoothing the strands of hair he so carefully combs in the mornings.
It’s been a while since I last sang this. I take a deep breath and begin.
Rest, my rose, in the night’s warm glow,
The stars will guard you, their secrets flow.
Theron’s ears twitch at the sound of my voice, and his paw tightens under my knee.
Your petals soft, with strength unseen,
Through darkest shadows, a light serene.
The crystal waits where the frost runs deep,
Its heart aglow, in eternal keep.
I lean back against the cool cave wall and let the melody play in my mind. My mother’s voice echoes in my memory. This lullaby . . . For the first time, I truly understand it. I am the rose, and Theron is the crystal.
“My mate.” Theron shifts to lie on his back.
I hum in question, my hand still on his mane.
“I’ve heard this song before.”
“You have?”
He nods, his golden eyes meet mine as he sings.
A guardian bold, through storm and tide,
Protects the bloom with steadfast pride.
When rose and crystal together stand,
The winds shall sing across the land.
A bond unbroken, the dawn will rise,
To heal the earth, beneath shared skies.
I didn’t know there was more to the song. His deep voice gives the words weight and meaning. My heart feels so full, and slowly, I lower my face, my eyes closed.
He nuzzles my nose.
“They all could have been happy.”