In what felt like a mere second, a full week had passed. The swiftness of time's passage was unsettling. One moment, I was standing in Father's study, accepting my grim fate, and the next, I was now on my way to the Bloodmoon Pack.
I mean, I expected it, the mission had been years in the making, but I did not expect the departure to be so swift, almost like a whisked-away prisoner.
I stood at the carriage window, the glass cool beneath my fingertips, watching the world outside blur into streaks of green and brown as the carriage moved.
The rhythmic clatter of hooves on the dirt road and the soft creak of the leather suspension filled the silence within the small, enclosed space.
Every turn of the wheels took us further from the familiar, rigid confines of the Verdant Sect and deeper into unknown territory.
"My lady," Lara said, her voice bright with uncontained excitement, pulling me from my thoughts. Her small face was pressed against the opposite window, eyes wide with childlike wonder.
"What do you think? Don't you think the view outside is so beautiful? Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!" She rattled on, pointing frantically, describing every passing tree, every distant glade, every fleeting glimpse of movement beyond the carriage.
"The view is so beautiful! Look at that, there are animals! Oh my goodness!" she whispered, her voice a mix of awe and pure joy.
I couldn't blame her, of course. Lara was barely a maid, not much older than a child herself, and had never left the Sect's high walls, always having been kept within its impenetrable confines.
She had no reason to leave, no missions like mine, no purpose beyond her domestic duties. Her entire life had been spent in the sheltered, albeit stifling, environment of the Sect. I couldn't blame her for being so happy, for her unrestrained fascination with the mundane sights of the outside world.
I simply watched the grasses outside, the fields and sparse woods of the neutral territories, as they blurred past in a green and golden haze.
The main reason I had taken Lara with me was because I saw her like a younger sister. She was the pure definition of a defect wolf—the forbidden, unnatural combination of human and wolf, a lineage deemed impure by the Sect's rigid doctrines.
Others at the Sect bullied her relentlessly, their harsh words and cold stares a constant companion to her quiet existence. I had always thought it was totally wrong. It didn't make sense for someone to be bullied, ostracized, just for the fact that they were born with an issue, a heritage they had no control over. It made no sense to me, this cruel prejudice.
So, of course, I had to take her with me. She had been my maid, my closest maid, if I must say. Loyal and unwavering. She had always been there for me, a comforting, if timid, presence in a world of sharp edges and colder hearts; there was no way I was letting her go, not when I could offer her this sliver of freedom, however temporary.
"Sit down, Lara," I said, my voice softer than I intended, though still firm enough to carry authority.
"Oh, a sunflower...Yes, my lady!" she chirped, tearing her gaze from the window to plop onto the cushioned seat opposite me, her movements quick and eager, as if I had just taken away her greatest privilege.
I managed not to groan, though a sigh almost escaped my lips. "I'm not saying don't look outside or don't look at the scenery," I clarified, a small, genuine smile finally touching my mouth. "You can, of course, but I'm just saying, be careful, okay? Just be careful so you don't hit your head."
Her face lit up even further at the permission, and she nodded her head vigorously, a blur of golden-brown hair, then immediately returned her attention to the world beyond the glass.
She was looking outside and telling me about every single thing that walked past, her commentary a continuous, cheerful stream. "Oh, look! A rabbit, my lady! That would be so good for food!" she drooled, her voice full of innocent, almost feral greed, a stark reminder of the basic instincts that the Sect so vehemently suppressed.
"Oh my goodness, Lara," I whispered, literally laughing, the sound soft and unexpected even to my own ears. It was a funny way to pull someone out of their misery, wasn't it?
Her utter lack of filter, her simple joy, was a refreshing counterpoint to the suffocating solemnity of the Sect's life. It was part of the reason I brought her with me. She was probably the ironic antidote to my often-grim life, a splash of unadulterated innocence in a world of shadows and deceit.
Many might truly try to forget everything, their purpose consuming them, but she was also a crucial part of my plan. Being funny and cute, seemingly naive and harmless, made it terrifyingly easy for her to infiltrate anywhere and get me exactly every piece of information I needed.
People would probably look at her as someone who was dumb and literally had one of the most stupid dispositions, an easy mark.
I mean, when I lived back in the Sect, she was the one that brought me information about every single thing going on, what people said about me, what people said about Father, even the hushed criticisms of our methods.
She was part of the reason I could climb to the position I was in . My Father loved me the most, and her loyal, unthinking dedication made her invaluable so of course, Lara would be useful even in this, my most dangerous mission yet.
Suddenly, Lara's cheerful chatter ceased. Her small hand shot out, grasping my sleeve, her grip surprisingly strong. "My lady, what is that beauty?" she whispered, her voice suddenly hushed, laced with a new, deeper kind of awe.
"What is it?" I asked, my attention sharpening instantly, every sense on alert. Was it a scout? A barrier?
"Look, look! It's the Bloodmoon Pack!" she pointed, her excitement returning in a quieter, more reverent burst.
I took a peek outside, my eyes scanning the distant horizon. And there, low and behold, was the Bloodmoon Pack in all its glory.
We hadn't gotten near it yet, but you could already make out its sprawling size, its dark, ancient structures seeming to merge with the forest around them. It was visible from where we were now, just across a wide, rushing river. We just had to take the old, wooden bridge spanning the turbulent waters, and we would be there.
A massive, roughly hewn wooden signboard, almost like a gate itself, stood proudly at the entrance to the bridge.
I don't know what it was called, officially, but it definitely had "Welcome to the Bloodmoon Pack" carved into its weathered surface in bold, sweeping script. It was beautiful, in a primal, wild way, an untamed elegance.
The raw power emanating from it was palpable, even from this distance.
Beautiful, I must say. The thought flickered unbidden, a dangerous, traitorous spark in my mind.
"What am I saying?" I told myself immediately, shaking my head almost imperceptibly, as if to dislodge the thought. Ugly.
Don't forget you hated the Bloodmoon Pack. My mission was clear, my purpose undeniable. Beauty was a distraction, a weakness I couldn't afford.