(Azaria 'Ziya' Point of View)
Six Years Later
A little over six years have passed since I left Thornwolf, and under four months until Caspian's sixth birthday. Each day that goes by, I feel the weight of my past fading further into the background, replaced by the daily rhythm of our new lives here in Drakova.
After leaving Thornwolf, Lilly and I relocated to Ebonreach, a city right outside the capital of Drakova, the Western Empire governed by the Lycan King. The entirety of the Northern Kingdom of Valoria and the Western Empire of Drakova belongs to him. He is known as a kind king, but only to his subjects. Before moving here, I had only heard horrid tales of the king — stories of a ruthless ruler who was as unforgiving as the winter winds. But if you ask me, his lands far outrank our homelands in Arcanthia, the Eastern lands we are from. The advanced technology, the state-of-the-art medical care, the overall well-being of the citizens — he is a damn good king.
Apparently, Lilly's friend works directly with the king, which is how we were able to seek asylum without ever having to meet the king or reveal our true identities. Her friend even offered her a position at the castle, but she declined. Instead, Lilly was set up with a residency at the local hospital three blocks down from where we live. I managed to get a job working security. It's not the most glamorous job, but the pay is great, especially when I work the private parties of the higher ranks. They tip generously, especially if I can remove a problem before it even becomes one.
Lilly and I have developed a system. She works during the day since I work nights, ensuring that one of us is always with Caspian. I gave birth to Caspian about three and a half months after we finally settled here. He was my light in those dark days, his birth marking the start of our new lives. I gave him my last name, signing my new name as his mother.
Caspian has a warm, medium-brown complexion that seems to glow, reminiscent of a soft caramel hue. He has delicate, well-defined facial features, including expressive almond eyes that are always filled with curiosity and wonder. His small, gently rounded nose and full lips often curve into a smile that brightens my world. He's my everything, and seeing him happy makes all the sacrifices worth it.
My daily routine is straightforward yet fulfilling. I get home early in the mornings, around four-ish, after a long night of work. I change out of my all-black security attire, my muscles aching from standing for hours. I let my hair down from the tight cornrows I wear, feeling a sense of relief as I run my fingers through my scalp. After a quick shower to wash away the stress of the night, I dress in my typical brightly colored or pastel outfits, preferring the comfort of light fabrics that contrast with the darkness of my work attire.
The kitchen is my sanctuary in the morning. I start making breakfast, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filling the air, waking me up more than any alarm clock could. I relish these quiet moments before Caspian wakes up, the calm before the storm of another busy day. Once everything is ready, I head to his room to gently wake him up.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," I whisper, brushing a soft kiss on his forehead. His eyes flutter open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he mumbles a groggy "Morning, Mommy."
At the beginning of the school year, I used to walk him to and from school every day. I wanted to make sure he was safe, that no harm would come to him in this new, unfamiliar place. That was before the incidents.
Caspian had been causing a commotion in class because he was bored, finishing his assignments far too quickly and disrupting his classmates out of sheer restlessness. After a week of this, we decided to move him up a grade. The issues continued, and we had to move him up again. He is now in the Miought Division, which is a step up from the introductory grades that focus on basic reading and arithmetic. The Miought Division is designed for beings before their first shift, preparing them for their future paths.
Since moving to the Miought Division, Caspian has thrived. He no longer disrupts classes, instead enjoying the more challenging coursework. He even made friends with his classmates in our building. Every morning, a group of them walks to school together, and every afternoon, they walk back. There are even a few kids from the younger divisions who join them, creating a little parade of laughter and energy.
For the first few weeks, I followed them secretly, my heart pounding with worry that something might happen to him. I would hide behind trees and buildings, watching as they made their way to school. One day, I ran into a Lycan female who was out for a run. After apologizing for not paying attention, I explained what I was doing. She told me that her son walked in the same group. We soon discovered that we lived in the same building, and we quickly became friends.
Her name is Aniyah, and she's training to become a knight. She had almost made it during the last selection but failed the last part. I admire her determination, her resilience. We started training together in the mornings, finding a hidden part of the forest where we could let loose without fear of being seen. I missed running and training with someone. Lilly has never been the training type; she always skipped the pack runs back then. Before I met Aniyah, I would run alone whenever I felt overwhelmed, the solitude helping me clear my mind.
Aniyah has even seen Nyrie. I rarely shift, since Nyrie is bigger than she should be, a constant reminder of the power that courses through my veins. But when we head out to the hidden part of the forest, I shift and let Nyrie feel free, even if only for a short while. There's something liberating about it, a release of all the pent-up energy and emotion that I carry with me every day.
My thoughts are interrupted when Caspian calls out, "Mommy, I'm about to get going! My friends are here!" His voice is as chipper as always, filled with the boundless enthusiasm that only a child can have.
"Okay, sweetie," I reply, walking over to him. "And good luck on your affiliation test. No matter what, Mommy's supporting you." I lean down to kiss his forehead, feeling a surge of love and pride for my little boy. He beams up at me, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
I open the door to greet the group of boys waiting outside. Caspian immediately runs out, doing a funny little handshake with Dakari, his best friend. Dakari is an eight-year-old Lycan who Caspian befriended on his first day of school. He has a rich, dark brown skin tone that exudes warmth and vitality. His large, bright eyes are full of curiosity and intelligence, and his hair is normally braided back in beautiful patterns.
"Good luck today, boys, and be careful on the way!" I yell from the doorway, watching as they head off down the street. They're all chattering excitedly about the affiliation exams, their voices a mix of nerves and anticipation.
Today, the Miought Division will be taking affiliation exams. These exams determine where their studies should focus, helping to guide them toward their future paths. With most empires being composed of mixed species, the testing is supposed to help erase some of the divides by grouping those most like each other together while preparing them for the future.
I don't know much about the test itself, as I never took it. As a high-ranking child, I had a ceremony around the time I got my wolf, and my affirmation was discovered. The ritual is performed by most high-ranking children and is called the Apex Awakening. It is the second biggest ceremony in our youth, next to the Lunar Rose ceremony they have at sixteen to celebrate being able to find their mates.
Although we first shift between twelve and sixteen, we cannot sniff out our fated until our sixteenth birthday. I didn't get to have a Lunar Rose ceremony, and I feel bad that Caspian won't be able to experience them either. But I can't take any chances with Ethan finding out about his existence.
As I watch Caspian and his friends disappear down the street, a pang of sadness hits me. I want him to have a normal childhood, to experience all the things I never got to. But I also know that keeping him safe is more important than any ceremony or tradition.
I close the door, leaning against it for a moment as I take a deep breath. I push the thoughts of the past away, focusing instead on the present. I have to get ready for work soon, another long night of watching over the higher ranks and making sure no one steps out of line.
I head to the kitchen, the scent of breakfast still lingering in the air. I grab a cup of coffee, taking a long sip as I try to shake off the lingering feelings of uncertainty. It's a constant battle, balancing the need to protect Caspian with the desire to give him a normal life. But I know that as long as we're here, in Drakova, we're safe.
Lilly's decision to move us here was the best thing that could have happened. She's been a rock through all of this, always knowing what to do and how to handle every situation. I don't know where I'd be without her.
Just as I'm finishing my coffee, Lilly walks into the kitchen, her hair still damp from her morning shower. She's dressed in her scrubs, ready for another day at the hospital.
"Morning," she says, giving me a warm smile as she grabs her own cup of coffee. "How's Caspian?"
"He's good," I reply, smiling back. "Excited for the affiliation exams."
Lilly nods, her expression thoughtful. "He's a smart kid. I'm sure he'll do great."
I nod, hoping she's right. "I just want him to be happy, you know?"
"I know," she says softly, reaching out to squeeze my hand. "And he is happy, Zi. You're doing a great job."
I feel a lump form in my throat, her words hitting me harder than I expected. "Thanks, Lilly. That means a lot."
She smiles, her eyes filled with understanding. "Anytime."
As she heads out the door, I take a deep breath, feeling a renewed sense of determination. I can do this. We can do this. We're building a new life here, and every day is a step closer to the future I've always dreamed of for Caspian.
With that thought in mind, I finish getting ready for work, pulling on my black security uniform and braiding my hair back into cornrows. I take one last look in the mirror, straightening my shoulders and lifting my chin. I'm ready for whatever the night brings.
As I step out the door, I can't help but feel a surge of hope. The road ahead may be long and uncertain, but I know one thing for sure: I'm not going to let anything stand in the way of my son's happiness and safety.