POV - Garrok
El rugido de las puertas de la armería marcó el inicio del movimiento.
No hubo ceremonia, ni discursos, solo se oían pasos. Instrucciones. Acero envainado. Y un temblor sordo en el aire que presagiaba algo más grande que una simple operación.
Se había concedido el permiso.
Tras minutos de deliberación, el consejo permitió el despliegue.
Y no esperé ni un segundo.
Con la orden aún fresca en mis manos, bajé los escalones del templo de la estrategia y me dirigí directamente a la unidad de fuerzas de combate de Sephros. Había llegado el momento de actuar.
"Nos movemos ahora. Cavernas Susurrantes. Bosque Norte".
No necesité dar más detalles.
Rhask y Darrien ya estaban preparados desde que les di la orden de espera. Ambos veteranos, feroces. Ambos conscientes de lo que significaba para mí, Garrok, tomar el mando directo.
En menos de media hora, el resto del escuadrón estaba listo: diez guerreros en total, todos entrenados en combate cuerpo a cuerpo, portadores de nuestra característica energía yang, algunos incluso con doble canalización elemental, aunque todavía en desarrollo. Jóvenes, fuertes, pero no invulnerables.
Partimos sin ceremonias ni despedidas. Solo el silencio del deber acompañó nuestros pasos.
El bosque del norte se tragó la luz a medida que avanzábamos, la espesa vegetación, el olor a tierra húmeda y raíces antiguas nos recordaban que este bosque tenía memoria. Que cada rama escondía una historia, y que cada sombra podía ser un susurro de advertencia del peligro que se avecinaba.
Las Cavernas Susurrantes no eran solo un nombre pintoresco, había historia en ellas, resonaban.
Y sobre todo, eran lo suficientemente profundas como para ocultar horrores... o inocentes.
"Iremos en dos grupos", dije mientras el escuadrón ajustaba sus posiciones.
"Rhask, Darrien y cuatro más en el flanco sur. El resto conmigo por el acceso directo al nido. La prioridad es sacar a los niños y asegurar la cueva. No hagan movimientos bruscos si no tienen contacto visual con el enemigo; no deben notarnos".
Rhask asintió en silencio, con el rostro tallado en piedra. Darrien sonrió con la comisura de los labios, su forma de procesar la tensión.
Pero mientras hablaba, mientras exponía los planes, mi mente vagaba aún más atrás.
Porque habían pasado años desde que un escuadrón completo se había reunido para una misión en el bosque.
Años desde que el Clan del Lobo se había sentido lo suficientemente fuerte como para actuar fuera de sus límites sin una alianza directa.
Y eso era porque ya no éramos los mismos.
Durante las últimas décadas, nuestra fuerza había ido menguando. Lenta, pero inevitablemente.
Seguían naciendo individuos con talento. Emilia era la prueba viviente de ello: un auténtico prodigio que, con apenas once años, ya era considerado uno de los quince mejores guerreros del clan. Solo por debajo de mí y otros guerreros experimentados.
Pero eso no cambiaba la cruda realidad: éramos menos.
En la última gran guerra, cuando el Ducado de Relfort ardía bajo la amenaza de los demonios y los horrores del abismo del Rey Demonio, el Clan del Lobo lo dio todo.
La batalla final, en la capital del Ducado de Relfort, fue nuestra mayor gloria... y nuestra mayor pérdida.
Docenas de los nuestros cayeron, hombres y mujeres que nunca más enseñarían, entrenarían ni defenderían.
Guerreros cuya sangre nutrió la victoria, pero dejó vacías a las siguientes generaciones.
Antes, los jóvenes del clan eran enviados a Relfort, a la gran Academia de su capital, donde aprendían no solo el uso de la espada, sino también las estrategias de guerra, el manejo de la política, la historia oculta que solo el ducado compartía con sus aliados.
Era un antiguo acuerdo, firmado por el propio rey humano generaciones atrás, como símbolo del vínculo entre su corona y nuestro linaje. Al graduarse, algunos se quedaron con los miembros del clan que vivían allí como muestra de apoyo al acuerdo, mientras que otros regresaron a Sephros.
Pero ahora...
Ahora nos quedamos solos en nuestra ciudad.
Para cuidar de lo poco que quedaba.
Para proteger el Árbol de Hypnos, cuyas raíces dormían bajo nuestra tierra y cuya esencia aún nos daba sentido.
Y quizás por eso, por ese dolor heredado, por esa pérdida invisible, el alto mando temía a Luahn.
Porque no era solo una anomalía en el sistema.
Representaba el cambio.
El cambio real.
Poseía lo que nadie más poseía.
Energía Yin y Yang.
Un equilibrio imposible.
Una condición que nadie más en generaciones había demostrado jamás.
Y junto con eso, una habilidad innata con la espada. Una sensibilidad en el combate que, de no ser bloqueada por su herencia humana, lo pondría, con todo su potencial, al mismo nivel que Emilia. Quizás incluso por encima.
Y ese pensamiento, esa idea, hizo temblar a los viejos consejeros del templo.
Porque si ya habían sobrevivido a una guerra... ¿podrían sobrevivir a una nueva era?
No lo sé.
Lo único que sé... es que Luahn estaba allí.
Y no solo él.
Children too.
Innocents.
Seeds of a future we couldn't afford to lose.
And so, as we crept down toward the clearing where the first entrance to the caves opened up, as the dampness clung to our skin and the silence grew thicker, I swore to myself that this time it wouldn't be like last time.
This time, I wouldn't leave anyone behind.
All those children who are possibly going through the worst moment of their young lives, trying to cling to anything to survive, not to get lost in the despair that eats away at their minds as they search for a way out.
And above all, not him.
Not Luahn.
The one who never asked to be born different, who never asked to carry the fear of two worlds on his shoulders. The one I saw training, giving his all, protecting his loved ones more fiercely than anyone else.
The child that many wanted to hide... but I knew, deep down, that he would protect those children at any cost.
*
POV - Emilia
The ground beneath my feet seemed to move faster than normal.
Not because we were running, but because every step we took felt like too little. Nothing.
As if the distance between us and the caves grew with every beat of my heart, the darkness of the forest, the humidity in the air, the trees that seemed to stare at us in silence... everything irritated me. Everything oppressed me, made me want to scream, to set the path on fire, to tear up the earth until I reached the other side.
Luahn.
That word... that name...
It echoed in my mind like a cursed bell.
As if every thought I tried to form was distorted and ended up returning to him.
Sweat ran down my forehead. Not just from the effort, but from the tension.
I couldn't stop thinking about what I had seen in the dream, about his eyes, about his spilled blood. About his body protecting the others. I knew it was a warning, I knew time was running out.
"Emilia," said Grisel, in a low but firm voice, jumping beside me through the branches of the trees at the same fast pace.
"You're very upset. If we keep this up, you'll exhaust your energy before we get there," she said.
"And what do you want me to do? Walk as if we were out for a stroll?" I spat out without thinking, without filtering myself, because I couldn't hold it in.
"Don't tell me you're calm."
She looked at me sideways with a raised eyebrow, a restrained expression.
"I'm not. But someone has to keep a cool head, and clearly you're not the one for that right now."
"Excuse me!?" I stopped short, turning toward her.
She also stopped, crossing her arms with a serenity that irritated me more than it should have.
"I said you're acting like a child throwing a tantrum. And you know what? It's okay. I understand. You care about him. So do I. But if you let yourself be consumed by it, you're not going to save anyone."
I bit my lip. Hard.
Because I wanted to yell at her more.
Because I felt exposed.
Because she was right.
I sighed. I looked at the ground.
And I jumped again.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, barely audible.
"Thank you," she replied, more softly. "We're close now, let's think. Coolly. Together."
We landed on the ground and walked in silence for a while longer, the two pairs of hurried footsteps echoing as before, though now without the edge of the argument.
The mist grew thicker, and the trees thinner. It was a sign that we were approaching the entrance to the Whispering Caverns.
"First things first," I said, without looking at her. "Get there before disaster strikes. Or... at least before it gets worse. If Garrok's squad goes in, there will be a confrontation. That's obvious."
"Then we'll observe. We'll assess the terrain." Grisel nodded.
"If everything is under control, we'll wait. If it gets out of control... we'll act."
"And how do you plan to act?" I asked, this time looking directly at her.
"I've never seen you use a sword. Not even train with one...
Wait a minute. Why did I bring her with me in the first place?"
It was obvious that I wasn't thinking straight, that I hadn't thought things through... how could I have thought of bringing the future priestess with me in the first place?
She turned to me, and for a moment I thought she was going to be offended, but instead she let out a soft chuckle.
"You're finally asking an important question."
I frowned.
"What?"
"You're always so focused on Luahn that you never took the time to ask me what I can do." Her voice held no reproach, but there was a hint of irony. "Be thankful I'm not vindictive."
"What do you mean by that?!" I said, feeling slightly attacked.
"I mean I carry a staff, not a sword." She pointed to her back, where a wrapped shape rested.
"I'm not a swordswoman like you. I don't need to be close to attack."
"Do you use elemental magic?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"Fire element," she said with a half-smile.
"At a distance. Explosive attacks, and if I focus well, I can channel it to create heat barriers. I also have training in basic healing. Nothing advanced, but enough to stabilize someone with very serious wounds until a real healer arrives."
I stared at her.
A part of me couldn't believe it.
the other… I felt stupid for not having noticed it before.
"That's… That's like…" I tried to sort my words.
"Yes, yes," he interrupted with a wave of his hand.
"In human terms: wizard class. Support. Coverage. And if necessary, direct offensive."
"And I without knowing?" I whispered, incredulous.
"Luahn has known that for a long time." His smile became a little wider, and this time loaded with slight mockery.
"But you were too busy holding him on your head to see the others."
I turned sharply.
"Not true!"
"Oh, no?" he said without stopping. "And when was the last time you asked me something that didn't have to do with him?
I didn't answer.
Because he didn't have the wherewithal.
And in part... because it hurt to know that he was right.
I sighed again.
Not anger.
But of shame.
"Well," I finally said, looking straight ahead. "I guess it's good to know that I have a fire mage covering my back."
"Not just fire, Emilia." Grisel glanced at me sideways, with a serious twinkle in his eye.
"I have reasons."
"Motives?"
"Yes." His voice dropped a little. "Reasons not to let Luahn die."
I didn't respond. Not because I had nothing to say, but because any words that had come out of my mouth would have felt empty. Because deep down, I knew what Grisel said was true.
It pained me to admit it, but it was true: I'd been so focused on Luahn, on her laughter, on her wounds, on her way of looking at the world with that mix of sadness and courage, that I'd forgotten to see the others walking beside her.
I had thought that simply worrying about him was enough... but no. There were more people who loved him. More hearts that beat for him. And Grisel was one of them.
I just nodded, lowering my head for a moment, and then we continued running. Nothing else needed to be said. The wind brushed our cheeks, the leaves rustled as we passed, and the echo of our footsteps faded among the trees. The forest seemed to hold its breath as we approached the caverns, as if it knew what was about to be unleashed.
A mage and a swordswoman in a way.
Two different paths. Two ways of fighting, of resisting, and of protecting.
And yet, in this moment, in this place, united by the same pain. By the same anguish in our chests.
By the same urgency to arrive before it was too late.
United by the same hope.
And by the same person.
*
POV - Melhe
The stone clock marked its slow and cruel progress with each knock that resonated against the temple walls. The sound of the bells at dusk, which had once seemed comforting to me, today fell like a cold sentence on my shoulders.
I stood by the low altar, surrounded by names, prayers, and prayers even older than my own voice, and yet none of it gave me peace.
Grisel hadn't returned.
Since the afternoon. Since the sun was still high and the breeze carried the murmur of the fields. She didn't usually leave without warning, not since I was little, not since she began to understand what it meant to be the daughter of the priestess of Sephros. She was always obedient. Strong, yes, and curious, but never reckless. That's why, at first, I tried to convince myself it wasn't serious. That she was surely at Emilia's house, like other times.
That's when I went to find Fortz.
He looked at me with that dry expression he adopted when he didn't know how to soften a truth he didn't want to say. He explained, bluntly, that Grisel had mentioned being with Emilia. That the last time he saw her was when she was entering the northern district, and that he assumed she was sleeping there.
But something didn't fit.
It wasn't just the silence, or the hour, or the air filled with a feeling impossible to ignore. It was something more. It was that emptiness only a mother can feel when something happens. It was that pang in her stomach. That pressure in her chest.
My daughter was in danger.
And I knew it before confirming anything.
The temple stirred with muffled whispers, half-baked news, poorly concealed rumors: Garrok had left with his squad for the Whispering Caverns. It was said that the kidnapped children might be there. That Luahn was among them. That the situation was delicate. That even those on the council doubted the safety of the operation.
When I heard it, my body went cold.
Time stood still.
I left the temple, without my cloak, without putting away the keys, without looking at anyone. I crossed the plaza as if pursued by a shadow, ignoring the greetings, the faces, the voices trying to stop me. Everything was fog around me. Only one idea guided me: to go to Emilia's house. To confirm it with my own eyes. I kept telling myself it wasn't possible. That I couldn't have been so foolish. That Grisel, my sweet Grisel, wouldn't do something like that without telling me..
But when I arrived, the door was closed. The lamps were off. No sign of life.
I forced my way in without thinking. I yelled her name. I checked the rooms. The living room. The garden.
Empty.
And then I saw the scroll folded on the table. Just a note, hastily scribbled.
"Let's go find him. Emilia and I."
My world fell apart.
I had to lean against the doorframe to keep from falling. Cold sweat soaked my back. My heart pounded as if it were about to explode. Dizziness clouded my vision.
My little girl... she had escaped.
She went, of her own free will, to the very place where a battle would be fought. To the very caverns Garrok's squad was about to besiege. To the very mouth of the wolf.
I wanted to run after her.
I wanted to find my staff, gather the temple monks, cross the woods calling her name.
But I couldn't.
Not now.
Because the families of the missing were gathered in front of the altar. Because mothers, fathers, siblings, everyone was waiting for my voice, my calm, my strength. Because I was Melhe, priestess of the Hypnos Tree, and if I broke… no one else would hold those who were about to fall.
And then, as if she'd heard me crying from within, Olivia appeared.
She didn't say anything.
She just came.
With those eyes dry from crying.
With that back hunched by loss.
And she hugged me.
Her arms wrapped around me tightly. And behind her, Leyla, the mother of one of the little ones, also came. And for a moment, just for a moment, I wasn't the priestess. I wasn't the guide. I was just a mother.
And I cried. I cried without shame.
I cried because I couldn't stand it anymore.
My daughter was out there. In the middle of a fire I didn't understand. In a cave that could swallow her. And I... I was here, with empty hands and a broken heart.
"You're not the only one, Melhe," Olivia whispered in my ear, her voice trembling. "I feel like I'm in hell too."
Her words reached me like a revealed truth. Because they did. She understood. Maybe more than anyone.
And then, for the first time since Grisel disappeared, I didn't feel alone.
We hugged tightly. With the trembling of those who pray not with words, but with their entire bodies.
And as the temple lamps glowed dimly, as the murmur of prayers filled the corners, and families sat in circles seeking solace, I could only look up at the sky, close my eyes… and pray.
Pray to Dievas, goddess of uncertain paths.
To protect my daughter.
To cover Emilia with her light.
To guide Luahn back.
And not to let anyone else fall.
Because tonight… we had already lost too much.