Chapter 16

In the place Serin led them to, a dozen grown men encircled a gnarled, ancient tree, their figures casting eerie shadows in the dim light. Something had been haphazardly strewn all over it, creating an unsettling tableau. Even in the shroud of night, the substantial amount of spilled blood was unmistakable.

At a cursory glance, the blood seemed randomly splattered, but upon closer inspection, it assumed a peculiar, almost enigmatic pattern, as though it were some abstract painting defying easy identification. Scattered around the base of the tree were heaps of extinguished candles, bear claws, and a solitary sliver of silver, an odd juxtaposition that deepened the mystery.

Kennard, perplexed and disturbed, voiced his confusion, “What is all this?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Serin replied, sharing the same bewilderment.

Casting his gaze around, Kennard spotted a deer’s mangled remains strewn nearby. The poor creature’s neck had been cruelly stretched and torn, its belly gaping open, innards spilling out. The snow beneath it had been transformed into a morose canvas, stained a vivid shade of red by the gushing blood. What once were formidable antlers on both sides now lay shattered, as if they had been snapped with force.

Kneeling beside the gruesome tableau, Kennard gingerly picked up a fractured piece of antler, resembling a broken branch in its jagged disarray.

At the very tip of the shattered antler fragment, fresh blood clung stubbornly, still tethered to the ancient tree. A macabre network of crimson veins appeared to have traversed the same path numerous times, branching out in eerie, cryptic patterns.

Serin’s voice sliced through the chilling air, his words heavy with unease, “It’s sorcery.” His eyes narrowed as he studied the sinister bloodstains, his thoughts echoing the dread that loomed in the forest. “If it’s blood magic…”

Kennard interrupted, his voice grim, “Dark magic, I suppose. Someone trying to curse someone.”

Before the first rays of dawn had a chance to creep across the horizon, a bluish twilight began to infiltrate the forest, bathing the scene in an otherworldly glow. In this half-light, the eerie figure etched in blood on the tree emerged with heightened clarity.

Kennard’s gaze remained fixed upon the sinister pattern. He turned slowly, his gaze piercing the shadowy depths of the surrounding woods. 

“What should we do?” Serin asked, inching closer, ever watchful of their surroundings.

“Summon the members,” Kennard muttered, still entranced by the waning forest. His determination remained unshaken. 

“Are you going to pursue them?” Serin inquired.

Kennard nodded with a resolute expression. They had combed through the Terra Demorte Forest on countless nights, but this was an unprecedented sign. It felt like someone had deliberately marked their territory with these ominous bloodstains.

“At your permission, I’ll give chase,” Serin declared. His words granted, he promptly shifted into his gray wolf form, his sleek, silver-gray fur shimmering in the moonlight. With a single purpose, he sprinted towards the nearby cliff, his powerful legs propelling him with an effortless grace before he launched onto a lofty rock.

“Ah-woo-woo. Ah-woo-woo.”

Serin’s howls reverberated through the once-muted forest, the mournful melody rousing the dormant creatures of the mountains and the slumbering birds into a discordant symphony of panic and curiosity.

“Ah-woo-woo. Ah-woo-woo.”

As the long, clear howls stretched on, Kennard too underwent his transformation, morphing into his formidable black wolf form, the obsidian coat blending seamlessly with the shadows.

It was still early, but within moments, the knights began to stir, alerted by Serin’s echoing howls that cut through the tranquil night.

“Ah-woo-woo. Ah-woo-woo.”

As if on cue, multiple responding howls emanated from the direction of the castle, a chorus of readiness and solidarity. Before long, Serin returned, his eyes gleaming.

“You remain here, and when the knights arrive, guide them to search in separate directions,” Kennard instructed, his voice carrying the weight of command.

Serin’s brow furrowed, concern etching his features. “You’re going alone?”

The knights’ approach was imminent, but Kennard had no inclination to wait idly. In a decisive move, he elongated his neck, raised his head high, and released a resonant howl that cleaved the still night air.

Unlike Serin’s melodious call, Kennard’s howl possessed an aura of sheer power and gravitas.

“Yes, I’ll go alone. Find them, no matter what it takes. If necessary, you can subdue them, but under no circumstances should you kill,” Kennard stated with unwavering authority.

Serin nodded, “Understood, Your Highness.”

***

Elena’s peaceful slumber was abruptly shattered, her eyes springing open as an eerie howl pierced the quiet of the night. At first, she hesitated, half-convinced it was a dream. But the silence that followed, as if the world held its breath, told her it was all too real.

Carefully, she sat up in bed, the covers slipping from her shoulders. Her senses strained, attuned to the fading echoes of the haunting cry from the distant forest. The sound, though originating deep within the woods, felt strangely vivid in her ears, like an ominous whisper just beyond her grasp.

Without a moment’s delay, she draped a robe over her nightdress, its soft fabric providing little comfort in the face of the unsettling sounds. Her nimble steps carried her to the window that opened onto the moonlit terrace. The room lay enveloped in darkness, save for the feeble glimmer of embers slowly dying out in the hearth. Although she couldn’t discern much in the obsidian shroud, familiarity with her surroundings allowed her to navigate the room deftly, avoiding tables and sofas as she reached the window.

Elena summoned the strength to yank the heavy curtains wide, unveiling a world shrouded in the muted hues of early dawn. Drawing closer to the window, her breath formed a delicate mist on the cold glass as she peered outside.

In the distance, the forest awoke, birds darting through the dim light, their movements resembling ghostly apparitions. It seemed as though the howling had startled the birds from their slumber, just as it had shaken her from her sleep.

A moment of contemplation passed before she made her decision. Elena pushed open the door to the terrace and ventured into the frigid morning air. The snow had been falling steadily since yesterday, leaving a pristine layer of white that the castle’s diligent servants had cleared from the terrace, though it still retained a slippery sheen.

Wrapped tightly in her robe, Elena hugged her shoulders, attempting to ward off the pervasive chill. Each exhalation was visible in the crisp air, her breath a ghostly plume that clung to the frigid atmosphere, as if her very nose might freeze and fall away.

“Ah-woo-woo.” 

“Ah-woo-woo.” 

Elena was startled once more by a sudden and thunderous noise. She instinctively covered her ears with both hands and sank onto the cold terrace. These weren’t echoes from the distant forest; they originated right here within the walls of Duke Kennard’s castle.

The nearby cacophony was so overwhelming that it resembled the crescendo of a grand orchestral performance.

Following the eerie howls, a series of dull, ominous thuds reverberated through the early morning air, as if heavy objects were plunging from great heights to meet the ground. At this hour, the castle’s inner workings remained a mystery to her, making it impossible to discern the nature of these sounds.

Elena had resided within the castle’s protective walls for several months, yet this was the first time such a disturbance had occurred. She rose slowly, gripping the icy railing for support, her eyes widening as the surreal spectacle unfolded before her.

Dozens of wolves, graceful and untamed, leapt from various points of the castle and sprinted purposefully toward the garden, their path leading them into the looming forest. Among the pack were not only black wolves resembling Kennard but also gray and red Wolves, their coats a vivid array of colors, some even bearing mixed fur patterns. 

Elena stood in breathless amazement, her hands instinctively covering her mouth in disbelief. The wolf pack vanished swiftly from view as they exited the expansive garden. Nevertheless, it was clear that their location remained discernible.

The spot from which the birds took flight in the forest was steadily receding, moving farther away from the castle with each passing moment.

“Goodness…”

Elena had never witnessed such a spectacle of dozens of wolves before, an awe-inspiring display that stirred both fear and an indescribable sense of wonder deep within her.

***

Elena’s gaze wandered, her hands not confined to arranging flowers in her designated vase. Several maids were huddled around the butler Lassino’s worktable, each diligently wiping down delicate ceramic dishes with soft cloths. The memory of the early morning howling and the wolf pack tugged at Elena’s thoughts, and she raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

If the howls had emanated from the distant forest, that would have been one thing, but there was no conceivable way they could have missed it if the eerie sounds had their origin within the very walls of the castle. Such a disturbance would undoubtedly have stirred commotion, yet all around her, the castle’s staff proceeded with their duties as though nothing extraordinary had occurred.

Perplexed, Elena leaned toward Cura with a faint, quizzical smile and asked, “Cura, did you hear the howling in the early morning?”

Cura, in the midst of arranging lilies in a vase beside her, looked up and nodded. “Yes, I heard it.”

Elena pressed further, curiosity piqued, “Weren’t you surprised? Didn’t it disturb you?”

“I did wake up startled in my sleep,” Cura confessed, her eyes reflecting the memory. “Oh, Elena, is this the first time you’ve heard it?”

Elena nodded with a quick and definitive movement of her head. She couldn’t recall ever hearing such howls before, so it was a reasonable assumption that this was indeed her first encounter with them.

Cura continued, “It surprised me too, since it’s been a while since I last heard those sounds.” She nonchalantly adjusted the placement of the flowers in the vase, an attitude that only deepened Elena’s bewilderment.

Elena persisted, “Did you happen to see the wolf pack as they ran into the forest?”

Cura shook her head. “I didn’t see that. You know, the servants’ quarters are at the back of the castle.”

As Cura pointed out, the quarters for the servants were situated in an annex at the rear of the castle. The more senior staff members resided on the lower floors of the castle itself, whereas the butler Lassino occupied a room at the far end of the floor where Kennard stayed.

“Did you see them, Elena?” Cura asked.

Elena answered with a hint of lingering astonishment, “Yes, I saw them – dozens of wolves, all running at once. It was quite a sight.”

Cura chuckled softly, her amusement evident. “Well, you’d be surprised if you saw it for the first time. From the sounds in the forest, it seemed like it was Serin, probably calling, and the other knights responding.”

“Knights?” Elena asked, her curiosity piqued.

Cura nodded, her tone carrying a note of pride. “The wolf pack you saw, Elena, they are the knights. As I mentioned, Serin is the Duke’s chief advisor and the leader of the knights. When the leader calls, the knights have no choice but to respond.”

“So, those wolves are the knights in their transformed state?”

Cura affirmed with a nod, “Yes.”

Elena’s memory stirred, recalling a group of knights she had glimpsed in the castle before. They had returned from some arduous training, covered in sweat and dirt, and had entered the castle. At the time, she couldn’t have fathomed that these same knights could transform into wolves.

“How do they do it? I mean, transforming?” Elena inquired, her fascination evident.

Cura contemplated for a moment before suggesting, “Should I ask the knights to show you next time?”

Elena hesitated for a brief moment. “Is that allowed?”

“We can’t ask Serin or His Highness directly, can we? I’ll find an opportunity to ask one of the knights to show you.”

“Thank you.” Elena’s excitement bubbled up at the prospect of witnessing such an extraordinary transformation. Even though she found herself intensely curious about how Kennard transformed, she couldn’t help but ponder, Why am I so excited?

In that brief moment of introspection, Elena felt a subtle blush tinge her cheeks.

Cura moved on from their conversation, directing her attention to the vases filled with beautifully decorated flowers. Elena turned to examine the vases, and just then, Lassino entered the workroom, pushing a tray laden with gleaming silverware.

Upon noticing Elena, Lassino offered a slight bow in greeting and then focused his attention on Cura and the meticulously arranged vases.