Deborah's POV
The night air felt unusually heavy, and everyone in the cave was either lightly or gravely wounded.
Especially the werewolves who had been bitten by the mutated bats—their wounds were turning black and starting to rot, giving off a foul, sickening smell.
I looked at Matthew's sleeping form.
He was one of them.
His shoulders and back bore several wounds, the black, rotting flesh spreading across his skin.
Werewolves were a powerful race, but here on the surface, their healing abilities had completely failed.
They were barely clinging to life, sustained only by the little healing properties my blood could offer.
By my calculations, anyone whose wounds had turned black from the bats' bites was unlikely to survive.
This thought filled me with dread.
I knew we had already lost too many on this journey.
If this grim prediction came true, the number of survivors from Murias would dwindle even further—an unbearable reality.
I didn't want to wait any longer.
I had to act.
I made up my mind and quietly walked over to Mary.
Though she was weak, her eyes still held that unshakable resolve, as if she had been waiting for me.
She knew I would come.
I gently helped her up, placing her arm over my shoulder, and then carefully lifted her onto my back.
Slowly, I began to carry her out of the cave.
The entire cave was filled with injured and exhausted werewolves and survivors.
I had to be extremely cautious not to wake anyone, especially the weakened werewolves.
Werewolves were an incredibly loyal and united race—they would never allow one of their own to sacrifice themselves for the greater good of the pack.
This instinctive drive to protect their own made me even more careful.
Each of my steps was as light as a feather, making sure I made no sound.
I held my breath, listening to the faint breathing and occasional groans in the cave, my nerves taut like a tightly drawn bowstring.
Finally, I carried Mary out of the cave.
Outside, the night was still deep, the moon hidden behind thick clouds, with only the occasional faint ray of light breaking through the gaps.
The corpses we had placed outside earlier had already been cremated, and the faint scent of burning still lingered in the air.
I gently laid Mary down on the ground.
She raised her head, her eyes filled with determination as she looked at me. "It's time."
I pressed my lips together. My hand trembled as I held Maeve's lock of hair.
"Don't be afraid," Mary reassured me. "You're doing something meaningful. This isn't just for us, or for the survivors of Murias—it's for the salvation of thousands of werewolves."
"Thousands?" I echoed in confusion.
She sighed deeply, as if these words had been buried in her heart for a long time. "You'll understand soon enough. I begged Maeve to leave her final wish—to save all the werewolves. Of course, she was also atoning for her sins."
"Atoning?" I was even more confused.
Maeve had been a powerful witch—what could she possibly need to atone for?
"The seal… she was the one who created it." Mary's voice was raspy, each word laden with pain.
"She? Why would she do that?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
Why would Maeve seal the werewolves?
Was she once part of Sky City?
"She was deceived by the Demon. It wasn't her true intention." Mary's tone was full of exhaustion and sorrow.
"Demon?"
Even though I had spent over thirty years in the heavens, I knew little about the Demons.
I remembered the old woman in Tirfothuinn who had pointed at me, calling me a Demon.
The strange connection unsettled me.
"Do you have any final messages you'd like me to pass on?" I asked softly, feeling tears welling up in my eyes.
"This is enough. Don't delay," Mary said gently but firmly.
I nodded, slowly placing Maeve's lock of hair beside her, a wave of sadness washing over me.
I began to form the ancient hand gestures passed down through my family of priests, my palms facing each other but not fully touching, my thumbs, middle fingers, and pinkies folded into specific positions.
I took a deep breath, lifted my gaze to the sky, and spoke with resolve, "Sub sidere, sub luna, Vetus vis, ad vocem meam." (Under the stars, beside the moon, ancient power, heed my call.)
My voice was low but strong, and as I chanted, the air around me began to tremble.
The clouds parted, letting moonlight and starlight shine onto the earth.
The night sky suddenly became clear, as if a mysterious power was gathering.
I could feel the energy flowing through the air, the wind brushing softly against my face, carrying with it a sense of ancient summoning.
I continued, "Flamma duce, ignis mediatore." (With wind as the guide, fire as the mediator.)
As soon as the words left my mouth, the wind intensified, violently whipping the leaves into the air.
My hair was caught in the gusts as if every corner of the world was responding to my call.
Suddenly, Maeve's lock of hair burst into flames, the fire flickering eerily in the darkness.
"With my life, I sacrifice for all werewolves," Mary shouted with every ounce of strength she had left.
I took a deep breath, mustering all my courage, and shouted, "Solve sigillum, redde libertatem!" (Break the seal, return freedom!)
The fire was snuffed out in an instant, and the wind ceased.
The clouds in the sky closed once more, the moonlight disappeared behind them, and the night returned to its previous gloom.
The surrounding silence was as deep as the night itself.
***
The clouds in the sky were slowly gathering, swallowing the moonlight once again, and the night returned to its previous gloom.
The surrounding silence was terrifying, as if the whole world had stopped breathing, leaving only me alone in this endless guilt.
I knelt outsied the cave, the cold air biting into my skin.
Mary lay beside me, still and lifeless, like a stagnant pool of water.
Her skin had grown even paler, her body drained of all life and color.
I kept my head bowed, guarding her body, an emptiness hollowing out my heart, as if something vital had been ripped away.
Inside the cave, the werewolves were slowly waking, the sound of their returning strength filling the air.
I heard their cheers, a long-suppressed joy finally breaking free.
Suddenly, I heard Matthew's voice, "Deborah! Where are you?"
Accompanied by his shout, the werewolves poured out of the cave like a tide, Matthew running at the front, a broad smile on his face.
When he saw me at the cave's entrance, his eyes were bright with excitement. "Deborah! Look, we've all recovered!"
His voice was full of delight, almost childlike in his excitement.
But the moment his eyes fell on Mary's body lying beside me, he froze in place.
The cheering stopped abruptly, and the atmosphere around us grew heavy.
"Mary…?" Matthew's voice trembled. He rushed forward, falling to his knees beside her, grabbing her body tightly.
His voice cracked with pain, "Mary! Mary! What happened to you?"
Matthew's tear-filled eyes turned towards me, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and grief, "What happened to her?"
I bit my lip, trying to stay calm, and said softly, "She's… gone."
"How could this happen?" Matthew's face was full of disbelief, his voice filled with desperation. "All the werewolves have healed! Everyone's wounds have closed! She's a werewolf too—why is she dead?"
I looked at him, tears welling up in my eyes.
I wanted to explain, but I couldn't find the words.
Matthew began to cry, tears streaming silently down his face, his entire being suddenly so fragile.
"She sacrificed herself… to break the seal," I finally mustered the courage to speak the truth.
Matthew's head snapped up, his voice hoarse, "What did you say? She sacrificed herself to break the seal?"
I nodded, the weight of it all pressing harder on me.
The other werewolves gathered around, their faces filled with grief and anger as they looked at Mary's body.
"What do you mean, sacrificed?" one of them demanded, fury in his voice.
Matthew's emotions spiraled out of control, tears flooding his eyes as he screamed in a voice full of hate and sorrow, "You killed my mom?!"
I froze.
I stood there in shock, unable to move, a deep sense of guilt and helplessness flooding my heart.
It wasn't until this moment that I realized Mary was Matthew's mother.
No one had ever told me.
Matthew's accusation hit me like a blade, even though I knew I had no malicious intent, I had, in a way, "killed" his mother.
"I… I didn't…" My voice trembled as I tried to explain, but the words caught in my throat.
"You killed her!" Matthew's voice cracked with anguish, "You killed the only family I had in this world! How could you?!"
He sobbed uncontrollably, as if trying to release all the pain in his heart.
His eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse from crying.
My heart felt like it was being crushed under a great weight, making it impossible to breathe.
Yes, in some way, I had "killed" Mary.
I struggled to hold back my tears, trying to explain, "I didn't know she was your mother…"
But Matthew wasn't listening.
His emotions had completely shattered, and he couldn't think clearly anymore.
He kept repeating, "You killed my mom… you killed my mom…"
Just then, David and Cora rushed out of the cave, drawn by the commotion outside.
They clearly had no idea what had happened yet.
They saw Matthew sobbing, me standing there frozen, and Mary's body lying on the ground.
"What's going on?" Cora quickly ran to my side, positioning herself in front of me protectively.
She whispered to me, "Deborah, what happened?"
David stood nearby, watching Matthew weep.
When he heard him cry, "You killed my mom," he frowned and murmured, "Mary was your… mother?"
I stood there, feeling like I was trapped in a nightmare.
I wanted to escape, to tell myself this wasn't real, but logic forced me to face reality.
Cora shouted at Matthew, "What are you talking about? Deborah would never kill your mom! Why would she?"
I saw the anxious expression on Cora's face and felt a surge of guilt.
I gently pushed her hand away from me and, with a trembling voice, said, "No… Cora, I did." I said softly, my voice trembling.
Cora froze in place.
Matthew's sobs echoed in the night, and at that moment, it felt as if my heart had stopped too.