CHAPTER 45 #3
“It is. No one can escape the devastation that comes from war,” Edmund murmured. “Not even the ones who won.”
Lenore nodded, her gaze solemn as she turned back toward the fountain. She placed a paw on top of the stone and lifted her head toward the floating fragments. “Then... the faster we find this raven, the faster we can prevent any of that from happening again.”
“The question is, how do we find it?” Edmund sniffed the air, shaking his head quickly afterwards.
“No one from our pack has ever seen it, and I don’t smell anything that matches a raven.
” His nose twitched as he grumbled, “Either my grandmother forgot a crucial part or maybe someone generations ago did.”
“Maybe all we need to do is shout for it?” Lenore suggested.
Edmund shot her an unconvinced look. “Really? Just like that?”
“It’s worth a try.” Lenore leapt up onto the fountain’s wall. In a louder, uncertain voice, she yelled, “White raven! Please, um... please show yourself!”
Only silence answered her.
Edmund stared at her, more amused than not. Lenore’s ears lowered.
“... We could try asking those doves I saw. That’s also worth a try,” Lenore mumbled. She leapt down, returning to Edmund’s side.
He nuzzled her, his chest rumbling with subdued laughter, much to Lenore’s annoyance. She huffed but stayed in his touch.
“Let’s think back on what’s here,” Edmund said. “Something related that could trigger its appearance instead.” He went quiet from his thoughts. His claws absently scraped the ground.
Lenore looked down in thought. The old words… The memory flickered briefly in her mind, but she dismissed it—Fia had said it needed to be spoken only when the raven was before her.
“... You did get inflicted by a Lucyn.” He lifted a paw to his muzzle as he continued to think. Worry crossed his eyes. “What if a drop of blood—”
“No, no, no!” Lenore shook her head back and forth. “I’m going back to shouting, only this time…” The cold clawed at her cheeks when she turned human. Her hand shoved itself into her waist bag, pulling out a cloth-wrapped parcel of beef jerky.
“I’ll offer food!” Lenore pulled a piece out, lifting it up to the sky as she waved it back and forth. “Even a special raven might not resist food.”
“... Well, it’s worth a try. Ravens never leave us alone when we catch something,” Edmund sighed. He pressed himself against her, keeping her warm with his thick fur. “Shout with all the sincerity you can muster then.”
Lenore responded with a tight nod. She took a breath, willing herself not to feel self-conscious. For her not to think that she was being obstructed by her tainted blood. Her grip tightened as she stared out into the desolate village. She pursed her lips.
“White raven! I have something for you in exchange for your help!
Please... we need you. We need you to help warn the other werewolves about the Lucyn—we need you to help before they suffer the same fate as what happened to Lunavie.
For us all to gather and fight against them before another war breaks out.
Please. If you can hear me..." her voice dropped to a whisper, “Please come out.”
As soon as the last word left her, the quiet swallowed the atmosphere. Lenore’s shoulders slowly sank, her eyes falling shut in growing despair. Her hand lowered. Edmund kept his head high, though his tail drooped slightly.
Just as Lenore was about to turn toward Edmund in defeat, something snatched the jerky from her hand, making her yelp in surprise.
Both Lenore’s and Edmund’s heads turned toward the sky, hope soaring with the bird overhead.
The white raven. Its pristine feathers mirrored the purity of moonlight, an ethereal glow to its body.
A trail of petals fluttered behind it, leading back to the flowers in the fountain.
With elegance, it landed onto the second highest tier of the fountain, perfectly poised as its talons gripped the stone.
It threw its head back, swallowing the jerky whole, clicking its beak afterwards in satisfaction.
The white raven looked almost annoyed once it locked eyes with the pair.
It cocked its head toward the flowers, cawing once, then kept pointing at them with its wing.
Lenore blinked in confusion, shaking herself out of the awe that had struck her. “Did... did the flowers have something to do with summoning you?”
The white raven cawed again, as if to agree.
“I knew there was a missing piece of information,” Edmund muttered under his breath. Still, his tail wagged, unable to hide his excitement from the legend before him. He paused, a light of realization dawning in his eyes.
“The flowers—the blood of fallen werewolves—they’re tied to each other.
The flowers are… the physical anchor—of what lies beyond the mortal boundary.
They let you enter this place… from a higher realm, don’t they?
” Edmund spoke quickly, enthused by the puzzle-solving in his head.
“If we plucked a flower... and called for you, would that have worked?”
The raven bobbed its head up and down. Pleased, Edmund sat on his haunches, his head held up high. He threw a sideways glance at Lenore expectantly.
She only gave him a dumbfounded look. How could anyone have figured that out?
Clearing her throat, she turned her attention back to the raven.
“Oh—um, our apologies. That didn’t get passed down in the legend we were told.
” Lenore smiled sheepishly at the raven before offering another piece of jerky.
“I guess this was good enough to be an alternative to that?” The raven haughtily ruffled its chest feathers, but still took the jerky from Lenore’s hand.
It peered at her closely before suddenly taking flight, and landing onto her shoulder.
Most certainly, in any other circumstance, she would’ve screamed that a bird was on her.
Lenore forced herself to stay calm, watching with tense shoulders as the raven analyzed her.
It cawed at her face, causing her to jump a little.
It stuck its neck out as it pointed with its beak toward her right arm.
“M-my arm...? Oh. Yes, that’s where I got scratched from a Lucyn…” Lenore swallowed nervously. “Do you... do you need my blood?”
The raven looked at her as if she were insane. Edmund snorted quietly, turning his head away.
“N-no?” Lenore stuttered, the corners of her eyes pinching as she bared her teeth in flustered confusion.
She silently blamed Edmund for putting that crazy idea in her head in the first place.
The raven shook its head, then waved its wings at her as if it had given up on the conversation.
It cawed again, then pointed with its wing toward its ear, staring at her expectantly.
“The old words,” Edmund said. Lenore wondered just how he was getting all of this. “I think that’s what it’s waiting for.” His eyes narrowed, lit with an intensity that reminded her of what the warriors from the past must’ve looked like just before battle. “There’s no going back after this.”
“There isn’t,” Lenore quietly agreed. “But it’s all gone down to this point.” She looked at Edmund, both of them exchanging nods with each other. Heart racing, she looked at the raven next, leaning in as she raised a hand to cup the side of her face.
A whisper escaped her. The words murmured across the fields, a faint echo of her voice resounding everywhere all at once, then disappearing as soon as it came. Everything grew still. A shimmering glow rippled through the raven’s eyes, and it solemnly nodded.
Your words have been heard. The Lucyn among you will be brought into the light.
Lenore gasped as a foreign voice spoke in their minds. Edmund’s ears perked up, though his expression remained hard.
The white raven lifted its wings, rising higher with every flap.
A faint ripple of light pulsed through the raven’s wings—as if something unseen had been set into motion.
The flowers that surrounded them began to sway once more in a wind not felt.
The moment the raven was airborne, it dipped its wing, circling around them once before soaring off.
Lenore held her hands tightly against her chest as she watched it disappear over the horizon.
There was hope now… small, but more than they had before. Lenore allowed herself to breathe easier. A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. We might be able to bring reason back to our pack and even save Auden and Fia—
A sudden growl escaped Edmund, jolting Lenore out of her relief. His hackles rose as he turned and took a few steps forward, staring out into the hazy distance.
“Get behind me, Lenore.” His controlled voice was sharp, a command that demanded she listen without questioning.
Lenore felt the cold bite in her arm before she saw him.
A hulking figure emerged from the haze, a cloak rippling behind him with every step.
A red crescent moon formed across his forehead, eerily glowing as its tips pointed skyward.
The white raven’s mark. Boots crunched harshly against the frost. Pale-green eyes locked onto the two of them, burning with murderous intent.
Ryker.