"You said you'd make it out!" My voice rang through the cavern, thick with desperation and sorrow. The sound echoed off the damp, cold walls, as if even the stone shared in my grief. Axel stood beside the figure, gently licking her fur, trying to comfort her in his own way, while I approached—hesitant.
What my eyes saw in that moment struck like a cruel blow of reality: at the heart of the cave, there, barely clinging to strength, lay a great white wolf. Her once-pristine coat was streaked with red, as if winter itself had been torn apart in a brutal massacre.
The wolf, her gaze weary and defeated, raised her head at the sound of my voice. And that's when I noticed—an icy chill running down my spine—that only one of her eyes was open. The other, shut tight, was marred by a horrific scar, deep claw marks etched across it, as if fate itself had stolen her sight and, with it, a piece of her soul.
That single eye, though dim, still held a glimmer of awareness. And when her voice came, it wasn't through sound, but within my mind—a telepathic whisper laced with sorrow, yet softened by a thread of relief, as though the pain of all that had happened eased slightly with our arrival.
"I'm glad... you both made it," her voice was soft, touched by a quiet joy that contrasted painfully with her visible suffering.
"White Wolf…" My voice cracked, a wave of anguish swelling in my chest. Tears slid silently down my young face. I stood there, helpless, facing the downfall of a being who had once been a force of nature—now broken, vulnerable. "What happened?"
She slowly closed her good eye, exhaustion drawing heavy lines across her face. "Ah, so you speak of it…" she forced out, the words weighing more than her wounded body. "I escaped Crothyna... but even after the anomaly passed, she kept hunting me. Without rest. The others"
"My childs… My kin…"Her words bore a grief that went beyond the physical. "The entire pack... one by one, fell to her bloodlust."
Each sentence felt like it carried the weight of a lost life, and the pain she felt was not only from her wounds—but from the memories of her pack being torn apart by Crothyna's relentless violence.
"After we scattered, Crothyna began hunting them. For a time, we managed to stay hidden, to recover. But once the anomaly faded, the hunt resumed—mercilessly…" Her voice grew taut, as if the memories were still fresh, still vivid.
She drew a shaky breath, trying to gather the strength to continue, and in a whisper, she added:
"One by one, they fell beneath her merciless claws. She saved me for last—as her prize. When only I remained, I managed to flee to the central territory. Here, because it belongs to the strongest beast, she was forced to retreat." But... it was already too late. Her voice faltered, a pain still lingering in the spaces between her words.
"You… you'll still get back up, won't you, White Wolf…?" I asked, my voice fragile, the tears now spilling into my mouth.
She raised her head with visible effort, her weary muscles trembling, but her gaze—despite the pain—still radiated dignity. Her golden eyes gleamed with an ancient depth, as if she were a creature meant to live far longer than nature had intended. But even she knew her time was nearing its end.
"I've lived longer than most. If this is my end... then so be it. But before I go, I hope you'll watch over the last of my bloodline." She turned her gaze directly to Axel, who stood by her side, seemingly aware of the gravity in the air. His breath, heavy and uneven, carried a grief beyond words.
Axel, his bright eyes shining with a light that seemed to belong to both a cub and a soul far older, licked her paw before letting out a low, pained sound.
It was a silent howl, more melody than cry. Not just any lament, but one born from the core of his being. The kind of sound that could stop the wind itself—so filled with raw emotion, it was undeniable even without words.
The silence that followed weighed heavily, as if the very air around us paused in mourning. Axel, sorrow clear in his gaze.
"No, you're not leaving us now," I whispered to myself, a growing ache squeezing my heart. The words felt hollow, even to me, and deep down, I knew—this fight against fate was not one I could win. "You can't!"
"Alexander, nothing can stand against the cycle of life and death." The White Wolf's voice echoed once more, gentle and resigned. She knew what was coming. And despite the pain, her words held the calm of acceptance. "Now that you're here, why don't you tell me everything that's happened since we parted ways?"
With my face soaked in tears, I realized that, in one final act of humanity, I needed to honor the White Wolf by sharing everything that had happened. I couldn't change what was about to unfold—but perhaps, by telling her our story, by revisiting all we had endured, I could offer her some form of comfort, however fleeting it might be.
So I began to speak. I told her about meeting Glória and Oswin, about Nicolas's arrival, and the battle between the criminals and the Dracknum warrior. I recounted Crothyna's sudden appearance and the strange tingling sensation that swept through our bodies. I went on about how we altered the course of that battle, our struggle for survival, and the moment we fell—plunging into that infinite drop that led me to the Mausoleum, where I met Galdrick. And finally, I described what I had endured within the Demonic Mirror of Erebus.
The wolf remained silent as I spoke, her eyes fixed on me, as if taking in every word. When I finished, she didn't respond right away. She just stayed still, as though weighing the weight of everything I had said.
"I see… you've been through much as well." Her voice, now weaker, carried a note of respect. "The sword… show it to me."
I froze, my heart tightening.
'Ah!' The thought struck me, and I felt a slight jolt of realization.
I hadn't seen it since I emerged from the mirror. "It's not with me," I said, regretfully—but then, a spark lit in my mind. A memory from the void inside the mirror.
With great effort, I brought my hands close around my chest, picturing the sword—and like an echo of my focus, it began to materialize slowly, until it was fully formed within my arms. I could feel its weight, cold and solid in my hands. The sword, once an extension of my will, now stood as a symbol of all that still remained to be done.
'It worked!' I thought, relieved, and with a breath, I presented the blade to the White Wolf.
She gazed at the sword for several minutes, studying it—and then, at last, with a glint of approval in her eye, she spoke. "It's a good sword," she said, her voice now calmer.
"Never lose it." Her expression softened, as if, for a brief moment, she had found peace with everything happening around her.
I looked at her, my throat tightening, and felt the presence of a distant mother—one who had welcomed me when I was on the brink of death.
"White Wolf…" my voice faltered, but she, with visible effort, turned her gaze to Axel. Her eyes now shimmered with immense love, directed at the pup.
"Axel," she said, her tone gentle yet filled with deep meaning. "It's a good name."
Axel, with the innate sensitivity of his kind, seemed to grasp the weight of her words. He looked at her with a depth only those who have known pain and loss can possess. For a moment, the world around us stood still. The sound of wind threading through the cave, the distant drip of water on stone—everything fell silent. The air thickened, as if the universe itself had paused to honor what was about to take place.
The White Wolf turned her head slowly toward me. A faint, fragile smile formed on her lips—a smile of acceptance and farewell. She knew the end was near, but her words still carried a force that transcended pain.
"Take care of him, Alexander… care for him as… as you would your own life. And he will do the same for you."
Her eyes, now pale and serene, locked onto mine, transmitting a legacy of trust and love that surpassed any physical bond.
Almost instinctively, I bowed my head, the sword still held close. Beside me, Axel did the same. His small ears touched the great head of the White Wolf, as if trying to understand—as if wanting, somehow, to express everything buried in his heart. Together, with our foreheads pressed against hers, we shared that silent moment—one of respect, gratitude, and, inevitably, sorrow.
With one final breath, the wolf spoke—her voice now so faint, it seemed to come from far, far away. "Thank you for listening to my selfish requests."
I couldn't respond right away. My heart ached too much. When I finally did, my voice cracked with emotion: "No… thank you for everything you've done…Thank you for taking me as one of your own…" But even then, the words dissolved into the air.
Her body began to dissolve before our eyes. First, a gentle breeze stirred, lifting particles from her form, breaking them apart in an ethereal dance. The specks shimmered like distant stars, disintegrating midair—as if returning to the world, blending once more into the essence of earth and wind.
Some of these particles drifted directly toward Axel, like a final embrace, a last act of protection. Others came to me, and I felt a warm intensity begin to spread through my body—as if she was still there, somehow, sharing a piece of her strength and wisdom. The warmth flowed through me, and a sense of calm and resolve slowly settled in my soul, as though she had left behind a mark that would never fade.
✦ ✦ ✦
The silence that followed the wolf's departure now seemed even heavier, as if the very air had absorbed her absence. Axel remained by my side, his expression calm, yet his gaze still deep—searching for something beyond the rocks and shadows of the cave. His eyes held a depth of understanding that no words could ever capture.
Suddenly, he howled. It wasn't just any howl, but a cry—loud, powerful—a call into the void. The force of that sound reverberated through the cave walls, echoing with the pain, the loss he carried within.
I watched him in silence, every fiber of my being connected to his, feeling the shift in the air. And then, at the peak of that howl, I saw it. A white mane began to form on Axel's body, rising like a gentle flame, illuminating the cave with its purity. It was as though the wolf's energy was being passed on to him.
The sensation in my body began to shift. My vision warped—the darkness of the cave becoming clearer, more vivid. My muscles tensed, and something beyond my comprehension began to unfold. My bones adjusted too, bearing a weight that wasn't physical.
"Even in farewell, she still chooses to care for us…" I murmured to myself, my voice breaking under the weight of emotion.
I crouched in front of Axel, wanting to comfort him—but as I did, something unexpected happened. My knees gave way, and the pain I had hidden until then finally surfaced. Thankfully, the sword in my arms served as support, keeping me from collapsing completely.
The tears I had held back began to fall—harder, stronger, like a torrent impossible to stop.
And then, in a moment of desperation, without knowing where the strength came from, my voice rang out—a childish scream, full of pain and rage, echoing through the cavern like a furious roar.
"AARRHHHHH!"
The sound felt torn from my soul, an explosion of raw emotion. Axel, beside me, howled with force, joining me in my sorrow, his lament blending with mine. The two cries—human and beast—wove together into a symphony of grief.
UUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHH