The sound of Thalia's heels echoed down the dim underground hallway. Archon and Borris followed closely behind her. The air was cool, and the stone walls made their path feel even longer. Finally, they reached a heavy wooden door. Thalia pushed it open, and the faint scent of burning incense filled the room.
"Lady Layla," Thalia called, breaking the silence.
Inside, a slender woman with flowing blonde hair, and blue eyes who appeared to be in her mid-forties, stood near a table cluttered with various tools and objects.
"Thalia, Archon, and—there's my grizzly bear of a husband," Layla said with a smile, walking toward Borris with open arms. Borris, in return, wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss on her lips.
Archon shifted his head on the wall, twitching his lips while pretending to scratch his neck.
Thalia cleared her throat, her lips twitching with amusement. "As much as I don't want to interrupt this tender moment, I'm eager to know what you've found."
Layla pulled back from Borris, pouting playfully as she looked at Thalia. "Ah, you're just jealous. Poor Thalia, always single," she teased, though her eyes briefly flicked toward Archon. "But don't worry, there's always hope."
Archon, sensing Layla's mischievous gaze, shifted uncomfortably but said nothing. Thalia rolled her eyes, brushing aside the banter. Layla walked over to the table. Resting on the table was a glass container, inside of which floated the preserved brain of the werewolf. Layla raised her hands, her fingers moving gracefully through the air. As she did, a glowing white string began to form, coiling in her palms like silk. She extended her hand toward Thalia, offering the strange thread.
"This," Layla said, her tone now serious, "is what remains of the werewolf's last memories."
Thalia accepted the glowing thread that slowly turned into a black stone, feeling its strange energy pulse through her fingers.
*****
Thalia stood in the center of the grand throne room. The stone floors beneath her feet felt cold. In front of her, she sat in the middle, in the high back chair, Sillus, the head of the Zurks coven, and the four elders.
To his right sat Corrio, Archon's father, with his blonde hair and green eyes. Beside him was Lance, his black hair and grey eyes unreadable. To Sillus' left sat Granger, with her wavy brown hair and striking orange eyes, and beside her was Moyor, his greyish hair and brown eyes calm.
Thalia stepped forward, reaching into her cloak, and pulled out the memory stone. The faint glow from the stone illuminated her face as she held it up for all to see.
"My lord," Thalia said quietly, as she bowed her head. She knelt and carefully placed the stone on the cold floor in front of her. The room fell silent as all eyes focused on the stone.
Lady Layla, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward with a graceful wave of her hand. Magic threads began to form from her fingertips, weaving through the air as purple light strands appeared. The room darkened slightly as the threads took shape, and suddenly, like an aurora borealis spreading across the sky, memories began to swirl above them.
The scene was horrific. They could see flashes of the werewolves charging, tearing through the village of Zires, the screams of their brothers and sisters echoing through the chamber. Blood spilled, houses burned, and the once peaceful land was overtaken by the chaos of the attack. Thalia clenched her fists as the images played out.
Lord Sillus' voice interrupted. "Lady Layla, can you find anything—any relevant memories that tell us why they attacked Zires?"
Layla frowned, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated. "I can try, my lord," she replied. Her hands moved again, the threads shifting as the memories distorted, flickering between scenes of the battle. She sifted through the chaos, seeking something—anything—that could explain the motive behind the sudden attack.
They waited as the aurora-like vision swirled above them. As the swirling memories continued to flicker like shadows cast by a dying fire, the vision shifted. The scene grew darker and more focused, and the image of another werewolf—a larger, more dominant figure—emerged, pacing before a group of his kind. His voice, low and growling, echoed in the room.
"We must find the reincarnation of the Gods of the Unknown before it awakens," the werewolf said. "Her power will bring chaos—havoc that not even Vulcan can control."
Archon looks at Thalia, who in turn looks at him. The vision faded slightly, leaving the room in stunned silence.
"The reincarnation of the Gods? Why now? We haven't heard of this in centuries. Is this why they attacked Zires?", Corrio was the first to speak.
Lance, his black hair falling over his brow, leaned forward in his seat. "It's not possible. The Gods of the Unknown is a myth—a story told to scare children. They're chasing shadows."
Granger interrupted with a biting tone. "And what if they're not? If they believe it, it could be enough to drive them to attack. We can't dismiss it simply because we don't believe in it."
Moyor, calm but deeply concerned, chimed in. "If the werewolves think they've found this reincarnation, we have to assume they will stop at nothing to find him or her. Whether it's real or not, they're convinced. That makes them dangerous."
The tension between the four elders was palpable, their voices rising in disagreement. Sillus, however, remained silent, deep in thought as the others argued. His eyes were fixed on the flickering remnants of the memory still hanging in the air like a ghostly mist.
The reincarnation of the Gods of the Unknown. It was a dangerous idea—one that could lead to war, bloodshed, and more loss. But Sillus wasn't thinking about myths or legends. His mind went immediately to the children they had rescued in Zires. Could it be one of them? Could the reincarnation the werewolves sought be hiding among the innocents they had sworn to protect?
If that were true, the children were in grave danger, and they would need to be shielded at all costs. Sillus' jaw tightened, and he glanced at Thalia, who stood quietly, watching the elders with a mixture of concern and patience.
If the werewolves believed this myth, they wouldn't stop until they found the Gods. And if one of the children was, in fact, the reincarnation, Sillus knew one thing for certain: they would have to protect those children with everything they had.
Sillus turned his gaze to Thalia. "If what those werewolves are looking for is the Gods of the Unknown, let's assume, for a moment, that it's true," he began, his voice low. "Do you think we can gain anything from it? Or is she truly a danger?"
Thalia remained silent, uncertain how to respond. In all their years, they had never dealt with gods, only the dangers of werewolves, witches, and warlocks. But gods? This was something else, something ancient, and far more dangerous if true.
Sills didn't wait for her answer. His eyes shifted to the elders. "Lady Granger, I need you to search for anything you can find about this Gods of the Unknown. Every scrap of information, no matter how insignificant it may seem."
Granger nodded, though her eyes flickered with concern. "I'll begin immediately, my lord," she replied.
"Moyor," Sillus continued, turning to Moyor, "your men will gather intel, quietly. We need more information on what the werewolves know and why they've suddenly started this hunt again."
Moyor inclined his head. "I'll ensure my men get what we need."
"Lance," Sillus ordered, his gaze now fixed on Lance, "you'll oversee the protection of the children. If the Gods are among them, they are in more danger than any of us. We cannot afford to lose them."
Lance's expression was unreadable, but he nodded. "I'll keep them safe."
Finally, Sillus turned to Corrio. "Corrio, you'll devise something—a tool, a device, anything—that can help us locate this Goddess. If she exists, I want to know where."
Corrio smirked slightly. "I'll get on it. A gods isn't beyond detection, even if we're dealing with myth."
Thalia watched her father as he gave these commands. In their entire lives, they had never encountered anything that dealt with gods. Could this be the reason the werewolves had come after them? The hunts had been going on for decades, but they had always assumed it was about power, about territory, or old grudges between witches and werewolves.
But now, with this new revelation, Thalia couldn't help but feel that something much deeper was at play. Why had the werewolves never revealed this before? If the Goddess of the Unknown had always been the reason behind the hunts, why had no one—neither witches nor warlocks—known about it? Had they all been blind to the true cause for so long?
She looked at her father, her thoughts tangled in uncertainty. If the werewolves believed this, then perhaps the Goddess was real. And if that were true, they were all in more danger than they could imagine.
Sillus's voice broke through her thoughts. "Once we gather enough information, we'll plan our next move. But until then, we must be cautious. We're walking into something none of us fully understand."
*****
Thalia and Archon walked through the garden, the moonlight casting a pale glow over the flowers, Archon broke the silence. "A god," he muttered. "Just thinking that one of those children could be a god gives me goosebumps."
Thalia barely nodded her mind deep in thought. "The God of the Unknown... What do you think its purpose is?" she asked, more to herself than to Archon.
Archon shrugged, picking a red rose as they passed by a bush. "To end this war... or maybe to end the world." He handed the rose to Thalia, his green eyes watching her intently. Thalia looked down at the flower in her hand, feeling the weight of his gaze but staying silent. She knew how Archon felt about her—his subtle gestures, the way he looked at her. But she couldn't afford to reciprocate. Not now. Not with everything unraveling around them.
"If that god is a sign that the world is coming to an end," Archon added, his voice quieter now, "maybe we should cherish every moment we have left. Don't you think?"
Thalia glanced at him. She wanted to say something, to acknowledge the feelings that lingered between them, but the weight of their reality pressed down on her. How could they even think of love when the world around them was falling apart? Instead, she took a deep breath. "We have a duty, Archon. Whatever happens, we need to stay focused. There's no room for distractions right now."
Archon sighed, his smile fading, though he tried to hide his disappointment. "I know," he whispered. "But sometimes... distractions are all that keep us sane." Thalia didn't respond, but she held the rose a little tighter. If maybe. Just maybe, they were in another circumstance, she would openly accept that love but she cannot afford it. It will only make her weaker.
Then, Thalia and Archon both snapped their heads around when they heard the snap of twigs behind them. Standing in the shadows, just at the edge of the garden path, was Orla, her small frame barely visible in the moonlight.
"Lady Thalia," Orla said. She stepped forward, her green eyes locking onto Thalia's. "Please... teach me how to wield a curse.
Thalia froze, the request catching her off guard. She stared at Orla, trying to process what she had just heard. This wasn't something a child should be asking—especially not Orla.
"No," Thalia said firmly. "Curses are dangerous, and they're not meant for someone like you."
Orla's lips trembled, but she stood her ground. "I know you've been teaching Roisen. I've seen it."
Thalia's eyes narrowed, her surprise deepening. "Roisen has something I'm looking for. That's why I've been training him."
"What does Roisen have that I don't?" Orla asked, her voice tinged with frustration. "Whatever Roisen has, I can give it to you too," she said added.
"You made a mistake, child", this time Thalia's voice became cold."By letting desperation cloud your judgment. If you truly want to learn how to wield a curse, you must first learn to control that desperation."
"Yes, I am desperate, desperate to have revenge, desperate to kill every werewolf that has taken my parents. Please just tell me what it is", Orla said almost in tears.
Thalia stepped closer, her eyes locking onto Orla's. "There's still a spark in your eyes, a small glimmer of hope that you're holding onto. You can't wield a curse until you've let go of that hope entirely. You have to be willing to lose everything, including that last spark, or the curse will consume you."
Orla could see her reflection in Thalia's eyes. Thalia's face, they're beautiful, they're warm and hypnotizing at the same time but she could feel it, the coldness. It feels like she's staring a deep shallow water.
Orla looked down, her fists clenched by her sides. "I... I thought curses were about power."
"They are," Thalia said softly, "but they come with a cost. Roisen understands that. He learned what it means to give up that spark."
For a moment, the garden was quiet, only the faint rustling of leaves filling the air. Thalia could see the turmoil in Orla's eyes, the conflict between her desire for power and the innocence she was still holding onto.
"If I lose it, will you teach me? Test me, and I'll prove myself!". Thalia chuckled. She was surprised by Orla's determination, perhaps she could train this child but she must test the child first. See if she was worth her time.