POV - Luahn
Me desperté con una sensación extraña.
Era como estar sumergido en agua helada. Los sonidos llegaban apagados, como si fueran ecos antiguos.
Mis pensamientos... lentos. Como si cada uno tuviera que abrirse paso a través de un manto de niebla, por un momento, no supe si estaba soñando o si había muerto.
Mi cabeza palpitaba.
No por dolor.
Por peso.
Un zumbido presionó mis sienes.
Me llevó un tiempo recordar cómo abrir los ojos.
La oscuridad me abrazó al principio, no era la noche en el bosque, ni la penumbra de una habitación, era una oscuridad más cerrada, más densa, como si el aire mismo estuviera atrapado conmigo.
Parpadeé varias veces.
Mi cuerpo no se movía como quería. Tenía frío, mucho frío.
Y algo... algo tiraba de mis brazos.
Entonces sentí la aspereza.
Era metal, metal pesado.
Grueso.
Apretado contra mis muñecas y tobillos.
Cadenas.
¿Cadenas?
Giré el cuello lentamente, el crujido de mi cuerpo como ramas viejas al romperse. La piedra bajo mí estaba húmeda, mi ropa rasgada. Mi piel pegada al suelo con sudor seco.
El recuerdo llegó como una flecha:
La emboscada.
Los gritos.
El golpe en la cabeza.
Y luego... nada.
Ahora, todo era piedra, oscuridad, respiración contenida.
Me obligué a girar más, y entonces los vi.
Todos estaban allí.
Encadenados.
Ardek. Mel. Soni. Noeli.
Los otros niños.
Incluso la maestra Inaé.
Todos ellos, con mordazas en la boca y cadenas que brillaban con una tenue luz azul, inscritas con runas antiguas que no reconocí... pero que mi cuerpo sintió.
Intenté mover la energía yang.
Nada.
Sentí que intentaba encenderse como una chispa... y se apagaba de inmediato.
Era como si me asfixiaran.
Fruncí el ceño y cerré los ojos, buscando en mi centro la energía yin.
También estaba reprimida, pero en mucha menor medida.
No era solo represión. Era negación.
Como si esas cadenas nos ataran no solo el cuerpo... sino también el alma.
Algunos empezaban a despertar.
Los pequeños sollozaban contra sus mordazas.
Con los ojos abiertos de terror, buscaban respuestas que nadie podía darles.
Inaé, al otro lado de la cueva, abrió los ojos de par en par. Se estremeció violentamente al oír los gemidos, y su mirada recorrió la habitación hasta posarse en nosotros. En los niños. En mí.
Vi su pánico.
Vi su rabia impotente.
Yo también la sentí.
Mi cuerpo estaba entumecido, pero la urgencia me impulsaba hacia adelante.
Usando mis rodillas, arrastré lentamente mi cuerpo por la roca. Cada movimiento me raspaba la piel, pero no me importaba.
Estaba demasiado cerca.
Noeli.
Estaba a apenas medio metro de mí, temblando. Su rostro estaba manchado de tierra y lágrimas secas.
Se movió al abrir los ojos.
Se quedó quieta por un segundo...
...y luego se derrumbó.
Sus ojos, enormes, azules, llenos de agua, se fijaron en mí.
La vi intentando gritar. Cómo su pequeño cuerpo temblaba sin poder soltar el grito.
Y entonces ella también gateó.
Como si nuestros cuerpos respondieran al mismo impulso, nuestras frentes casi chocaron al encontrarnos. Noeli se acurrucó contra mí sin dudarlo, su cabeza hundida en mi cuello, su respiración rápida y caliente contra mi clavícula.
Podía oír su gemido ahogado bajo la mordaza.
Un sonido que rompió algo dentro de mí.
Como si su miedo me perforara la piel.
Mis cadenas se apretaron suavemente mientras intentaba envolverla con mis brazos atados, inútilmente. Solo pude rozar su frente con la mía y dejar que su temblor me contagiara.
«Estoy aquí», quise decir.
«No dejaré que te hagan daño».
Pero ni siquiera mi boca podía hablar.
Y mi poder... estaba sellado.
Así que simplemente respiré con ella.
En silencio.
En resistencia.
En forma de promesa.
A mi alrededor, el miedo crecía como una planta venenosa.
Y sin embargo... entre esas piedras, ese frío y ese vacío...
Noeli, apretada contra mí, era cálida.
Ella era mi razón.
Ella era el recordatorio de que no podía rendirme.
Ahora no.
*
The stillness inside this cave was not normal. It was not the peace that precedes rest, nor even the silence of the deep night. It was something else, a void. A lack of life that was not due to the darkness, but to the absence of everything that should have been there: movement, sounds, hope.
That cave, barely lit by two torches stuck in the rock, looked like a tomb disguised as a prison. And the most terrible thing of all was that... we were alive inside it. Breathing, trembling, and chained.
The shackles were still tight around my wrists and ankles, pulsing with that bluish energy that I had begun to recognize as a form of restraining magic.
They were not simple chains. Every inch of metal was covered with lines, symbols, and runes that seemed ancient, even older than the language of the temple. The energy did not flow. Neither yang nor yin.
Both seemed wrapped in an iron cocoon. Trapped, even denied. As if we had been emptied inside.
With Noeli still clinging to me, dozing between startles, I forced my eyes to analyze my surroundings. I forced myself not to give in to fear, not to let myself sink into the fog that had been trying to invade me since I woke up.
I counted the torches, the marks on the ground, the number of children, the distances between them. I recognized all the little ones, some were beginning to regain consciousness, others were still unconscious.
Teacher Inaé was further away, tied to the wall, with a gag covering most of her face, but her eyes were open, alert, and her expression was clear: contained fury. I saw how she tried to move, how she shook when she saw us like that. If she could have screamed, she would have made the rock tremble with her voice, I knew that, and that image gave me strength.
I couldn't help but wonder why. Not just why they attacked us, that was already an open wound in my mind, but why us.
'Why a group of children?
Why take the most defenseless members of our clan prisoner?
Why attack this expedition in particular?
Was it an accident... or something planned?'
The answer hit me unpleasantly. Hard enough to make the air heavy in my lungs.
'What if it was me?'
I stood still. Even Noeli, with her small body clinging to mine, seemed to sense how that idea immobilized me.
'What if this was because of me?'
The idea wasn't far-fetched. On the contrary. It was too logical.
I am the only human among them.
The only one who does not have wolf blood in his entirety.
The only one who should not have been part of this generation.
The looks from the council, the discussions in the temple, the unspoken words... they all came back to me like poisoned echoes. "He should not have been born." "He is not trustworthy." "He is a risk."
I was always an exception.
And now...
Now we were hostages.
And I was there.
Right where they could find me.
Where they could take me.
And with that, punish everyone else.
The Kingdom of Theralis had been, for decades, an ally of the Wolf Clan. There were treaties, agreements, mutual defense pacts, and spiritual collaboration. We shared knowledge, food, protection. At least, on the surface, but this cave, these chains, this situation... it didn't fit with any of that.
This was treason.
Or worse: a covert operation.
'What if it wasn't Theralis itself, but a faction?
A group within the kingdom?
A human elite seeking something?
What if that something was me?'
I felt it then. The rage growing slowly, not an explosion, not a simple flame. It was like a hot poison slowly filling my chest, rising up my throat, clenching my jaw even though I couldn't scream.
Because if this was because of me, if someone out there knew about me and thought they could use me, or study my existence, or break the agreements between peoples simply because I existed... then they were right. They proved them right.
Remin.
Emil.
All those families on the council who said that a human's child could not be a wolf. That sooner or later it would cause problems.
That fire does not mix with blood without leaving scars.
And here we were now, captives.
Children trembling with fear.
And I couldn't help feeling that... maybe...
They were right.
I closed my eyes tightly. Tears stung at the corners, but I refused to let them fall, not now. Not while Noeli depended on me to hold it together, not while everyone else needed me to be strong, even though inside I was crumbling like sand.
Then I heard it.
First it was a faint rustle, as if a stone had slipped in the distance.
Then, clearer.
Footsteps.
The echo of boots on stone. Heavy. Rhythmic. Unhurried.
I tensed.
And I wasn't the only one.
Inaé jerked her head up. Mel rolled her eyes in fear. Soni clung tightly to the chain.
A
And Noeli... Noeli trembled against my chest.
I held her tighter, my arms bound as they were.
They're coming.
Whoever. Whatever.
It's getting closer.
And I...
I forced myself to take a deep breath. Despite the fear. Despite the trembling in my muscles. Because even though I don't have my energy, even though I'm alone in body and will...
'I won't let them touch us without a fight.'
Even if I can only resist with my eyes open.
Even if all I have left is this promise:
They won't break me so easily.
*
The sound of footsteps became clearer. Closer. As if the echo itself knew what was coming next and wanted to warn us without words.
My body tensed with each step that echoed off the damp walls of the cave. The torches flickered slightly, as if sensing the approaching presence, and for a moment the air grew thicker, as if the stone itself were holding its breath.
Then we saw them.
Several men, more than a dozen, emerged from the shadows, their figures silhouetted against the gloom. They wore no armor with royal emblems or guard uniforms.
Their clothes were mismatched, made of thick fabric, with pieces of dirty leather tied with rusty buckles. One of them carried a broad sword on his back, another a short club, and the third, who seemed younger, had a dagger at his waist and a bow slung over his shoulder. They all wore smiles.
They were not soldiers.
They were mercenaries.
Scavengers.
And their eyes...
...their eyes looked at us as if we were well-packaged merchandise. As if what they had in front of them were not children, nor a teacher, nor a group of lives with history and blood, but mere objects.
Trapped in a cage, to them we were simply meat with names.
One of them stepped forward. Tall, thin, with a scar across his cheekbone like a poorly closed gash, his gait was relaxed, almost mocking, like someone who had already won the game before sitting down to play.
He stopped in front of us, let out a dry laugh, and spoke.
"All right, little... dogs. You'd better not try anything," he said, his voice thick and drawling, as if he were enjoying every syllable.
"You are very important merchandise. And we don't want you to break before your time."
The words hit me like stones. Next to me, Noeli shrank further, pressing her body against mine with desperate force. Her trembling increased to the point that I could feel her fear vibrating on my chest, as if her heart had gone completely out of control.
"Just look at them," the man continued, his gaze sweeping over each of us. "Princess faces, fearful fluff, skinny legs... How much will they pay for each of these brats? I hope enough for some decent whores and a barrel of wine that doesn't smell like pig urine."
"With what we're going to get from this shipment, we won't have to work for months," said another, laughing from behind.
"Months? I'm retiring! I'm buying a house on the coast of Ilrem and letting the arrogant dukes eat my balls," added the fattest of them, letting out a laugh that bounced off the walls with a disgust that turned my stomach.
"That is, if they don't decide to sell us out, eh?" replied the one with the dagger, and the others laughed again.
Every word was a spear, not only because of what they said, but because of how they said it. As if our fear fed them.
As if our courage was directly linked to how much we could tremble.
I didn't move.
I couldn't.
But inside me, rage burned like embers between my ribs.
The man with the scar looked at me then.
And his smile changed.
It was no longer mocking.
It was... curious.
He approached, and his footsteps sounded heavier than normal. The silence in the cave became almost absolute. No one dared to move, even the youngest children, who did not fully understand what was happening, cowered as if their bodies were responding to the oldest instinct: fear of the hunter.
The man stopped in front of me.
He looked at me for a few seconds, tilting his head.
"You..."
Something in his voice changed.
It was no longer just mockery.
It was... disdain.
With a quick, sharp gesture, he grabbed my face and removed the gag. My skin burned where his fingers brushed my cheek.
I swallowed, my lips dry. My tongue numb.
The silence weighed like lead.
"What the hell is a human doing... with Sephros' dogs?"
The question hung in the air like poison.
His eyes pierced me. They weren't looking for an answer, they were looking for a justification.
An excuse to despise me even more.
Behind him, the others watched with a mixture of interest and amusement, as if I were a curiosity, a joke they hadn't quite understood yet.
I didn't look down.
I didn't answer.
Not because I couldn't, but because I didn't know which of all the possible answers would hurt me the least.
Because what hurt me most was not the question itself, nor the tone in which it was asked, nor even the mockery disguised as curiosity in his voice, but the fact that the question was not new. I had heard it before, from other lips, in other tones. In whispers inside the temple. In hallways where they thought I couldn't hear. In awkward pauses when someone introduced me and felt compelled to explain.
"What is a human doing among wolves?"
"What is a wolf with human blood doing?"
In Theralis, it seemed, they saw me as a traitor, an anomaly who had strayed from his race. A disloyal son who chose to live as something he was not.
In Sephros, it was the opposite: a stain, a foreign body that would never fully belong to the pack. An uncomfortable presence that everyone tolerated, but no one fully trusted.
And I... I was in the middle. Suspended.
Between two fires that never go out.
Between two worlds that don't claim me.
I felt the weight of both gazes on my shoulders, not only those of these men who now looked at me with human contempt, but also the invisible gazes of my own clan, of Remin, of Emil, of all those who thought I was the weak link in the story. The mistake of the pact. The child who should never have been brought into this world.
And, for the first time, I felt a pang of anger... not against them, but against myself, for having clung so much to fitting in, for having wanted to belong to one side or the other, for having believed that I had to choose between who I am and who they expect me to be.
Because at that moment, there, chained, unable to speak, facing those eyes full of mockery and superiority, I understood something that I may have always known but never wanted to accept: that no matter how much I did, how much I bled, how much I protected... for many, I would always be less.
And yet, that same certainty, that same emptiness that should have broken me, sustained me.
Because if I am neither completely human nor completely wolf, then perhaps I am something else. Something they do not understand. Something they cannot control.
And if that something survives...
Then no one, not the men in this cave, not the nobles of my clan, will be able to tell me who I am.
I am only me.
Only Luahn.