Sioggard - The Moon Flower Luna

4.

It was quite late, and she felt a little hungry. A sign that she was recovering.

In the past days no matter how much Chlea tried to force her to eat, Isadore could not really think about the food.

The pain and weakness and the devastating fever that consumed her took away all her energies, leaving her too weak even to be fed.

But time had passed, one weak, then another and another one had started and finally she began to recover.

She was still feeling very weak and frail, but now at least Isadore could take care of herself. There was no need to wait for Chlea anymore, she hated to depend on her even though Chlea had always taken good care of her.

She was not Aileen, that Isadore felt much more closer, but over the years Chlea had spent months trying to cater to her every need.

Feeling quite stiff, Isadore thought she could get down and cook something for dinner.

Not that she was exactly knowledgeable in the kitchen, she juggled much more skillfully preparing serums and infusions, but Aileen had taught her something over the years and Chlea had tried too.

The housekeeper had never approved of her passion for herbs and the healing arts that Aileen had passed on to her and instead tried to teach her what she considered essential for a young woman of her status.

Isadore had always taken private lessons due to her condition, but Chlea made sure she did not lag behind her peers who attended schools in the city. She had also convinced Uncle Viktor to hire an earner to teach her what she considered the indispensable skills in the cultural baggage of a young woman from a good family like she was.

Isadore therefore had to learn to dance with dexterity, converse amiably, speak four languages correctly, including the old heraldic idiom still in vogue in some remote packs, study in depth the history of the reign with all its connections, and devote herself to diplomacy, considering the prominent position of her uncle.

Isadore had considered those lessons ridiculous and perfectly useless, especially in Sioggard where no one cared about manners and the royal family was merely a shadow of the strength they had been in the past. But she had always liked learning, and in order not to displease her uncle Isadore had made an effort to comply with Chlea's efforts to transform her into the worthy successor of Uncle Viktor even though they all knew that Isadore would never take his place.

And if she ever had to do it what she needed to learn was the art of war and combat, not diplomacy because they lived in Sioggard not in one of the neighboring packs. Chlea, however, was from the old school as a good part of the population of the kingdom and explaining it to her would not have helped her much, so Isadore had just given up on it from the very start.

Her teachers and tutors had always been pleased with her results because Isadore understood that the sooner she learned what they were trying to instill in her, the sooner she could devote herself to what really interested her.

And her uncle had allowed her to devote herself to her passions despite the disapproval of Chlea, who had never looked kindly on her relationship with Aileen, even if at some point the woman had ended up resigning herself.

Like many others in Sioggard, however, Chlea tried to avoid Aileen as much as possible and so, whenever she wanted to escape her reproaches or escape her femininity lessons, Isadore took refuge at Aileen’s house or in the forest, in search of herbs and roots, letting the forest quietness soothe her shaken nerves.

She knew the woods of Sioggard better than anyone except perhaps Aileen for all the time she had spent there.

Holding back a sigh when a wave of exhaustion overwhelmed her, Isadore changed the course of her thoughts to return to the present.

After eating the sandwiches she had prepared herself, cause she was not in the mood to cook something more elaborate and had already appeased her hunger, Isadore picked up a shawl and, despite the gloomy sky overlooking the valley outside the window, she decided to go out and get some fresh air.

More than two weeks had passed since she had woken up after the last eclipse and it had been too many days since she had been locked up on her own with the only company of her thoughts.

Was starting to feel suffocated.

Aileen had disappeared after that one argument they'd had, and Uncle Viktor would stop sporadically to make sure she was still breathing before leaving her as well.

Isadore understood this but was also beginning to resent that forced loneliness, which was ironic because she had been alone for all her life.

Sighing wearily she wrapped her shawl around her shoulders once outside and went to sit on the porch in an old rocking chair. She would have liked to take a walk and breathe the sunset air but her body still felt the pain and, despite her having done nothing but rest in the last few days, Isadore felt inexorably tired.

She was recovering though, slowly she was regaining her strength and soon her body would be back to support her even if the idea scared her, because she knew what it would entail. Uncle Viktor had already begun to track down the kingdom's most experienced healers for her, despite being aware of the futility of his own efforts.

Isadore was grateful and loved him because she knew he wouldn't give up as long as her heart kept beating, but now that she knew for sure her beats were numbered, she hated seeing him wasting all that time in vain.

They both knew it and they had known it from the beginning, Aileen had never hidden the gravity of her condition and yet Uncle Viktor had never wanted to accept the truth.

It would have been so much easier if he had done it, Isadore thought wearily, because nothing was more difficult than pretending in front of him that she didn't care.

She wasn't afraid of dying, never had been, but she was terrified of what she would leave behind, her heart broke if she thought of her uncle when she would have left.

For him Isadore allowed the hope to sprout malignantly in her heart over the years and she had pretended that she didn't care that she was who she was.

Isadore really hoped uncle Viktor was not wasting his time looking for the Moon Flower again.

Despite him knowing that the Moon Flower was nothing more than a discharged legend and no one had ever believed it, Uncle Viktor was looking for it for years and even forced Aileen to help him.

Isadore herself never believed the flower existed when she came across it, nor had it interested her much because she had never cared about the reign and its affairs.

And the Flower of the Moon which was said to mark the next king of the Lycans Reign, giving him unimaginable strength and power had been no attraction for her.

Until she had discovered almost by chance some books that glorified the legend and among them, she had read about some special properties of the illusory flower. It was said that its healing properties were able to cure any rooted ailment, giving those who possessed it extraordinary abilities.

Isadore was not interested in the strength and prowess that the flower could have brought her as a gift, but if that flower existed and could free her from her curse and from the monster that lived in her heart, she had to find it.

Isadore had read all the books about it she had been able to find, and that Uncle Viktor had traced throughout the kingdom but had never found any indication of where to track it down. Only vague descriptions of its appearance and the myths and legends that depicted it and said so little about where to begin her journey.

For years Isadore had searched the forest all over Sioggard for it in vain and at one point she had given up and relegated the legend to the myth to which it belonged to begin with.

But uncle Viktor did not, and Aileen as well, she knew it, even if she never asked, but anytime Aileen had gone away for weeks it was to look for that damn Flower.

Isadore really did not get it, uncle Viktor was very practical. He should have stopped wasting time years ago because by now he should have understood that there was no Moon Flower in that world, yet he kept insisting without any results.

Persuading Uncle Viktor to let it go, however, seemed an impossible undertaking. Isadore tried it already even offering herself to go in search of it though she was not really ready to.

Born and raised in Sioggard, she had never pushed her boundaries except sporadically and duly accompanied. She knew little about the reign and she was even less interested in discovering it, had never cared about living in solitude hidden from the kingdom and from the eyes of the monsters that populated it.

The idea of leaving the safety of her land, the house she hated so much but to which she was inexorably tied to, did not particularly attracted her.

Not even now that she had so little to live left, besides, she was still so tired, Isadore said to herself discouraged as she adjusted the shawl she was wearing better over her shoulders.

Meanwhile, the night had fallen with his fatal robe and the wind had risen, heralding rain in the hours to come.

Isadore could distinctly smell it in the crackling air of electricity, but despite the cold she did not want to go back inside the house. She had been locked up for so long that had started to feel oppressed and then she was waiting for Uncle Viktor.

In the last days he had come a few times and always for just a few moments without even meeting her and then going away leaving her waiting for his next visit. If he had continued that way Isadore would have to go to Aileen, but Aileen too had disappeared and she had no idea when she would be back.

Interrupted in the middle of her sigh, Isadore froze when she felt a shiver touch the back of her neck, warning her of imminent danger.

"Chlea?" She asked in a slightly shrill voice when she looked around without seeing anything but shadows in the pitch dark. The whipping sound of the wind was the only noise in the still air, but the uneasiness that had disturbed her persisted in her heart. She felt watched and it was a sensation she didn't like, it gave her shivers that ran down her shoulder blades and crawled her skin. "Chlea?" Isadore asked again uncertainly, hoping the woman would come to meet her. But it was the cold silence that answered her once again and with anxiety on the edge of her skin, Isadore got up, determined to go back inside as much as she would have preferred to stay out there.

It was annoying because she was safe there, at least she should have been, Uncle Viktor would never leave her alone unless he was sure she was in no danger. She knew for sure he had placed guards not far away as he did every time he left her alone, even if only for a few hours.

And she was in Sioggrd for goodness’s sake, nothing ever happened in Sioggard!

She was safe there, Isadore was convinced of it, but the discomfort in her chest became more intense and she preferred to get inside, considering it more appropriate to trust her instinct that had never betrayed her.

She slowly stood up from the chair clutching her shawl around herself as her hair fell long and heavy over her shoulders and as she took one last look at the forest.

She wasn't wrong, Isadore froze petrified when the wolf came forward, huge and black with deep-set red eyes and a look that made her tremble to the core. She recognized it immediately.

It was the rogue she had collided with in the forest the night before the eclipse.

Isadore had no idea how he had found her, but she had the certainty that he was looking exactly for her. The thought terrified her as much as the red gaze of the ferocious creature.

Even if he was standing still at some feet of distance and despite him being badly wounded, Isadore dared not to move.

The Rogue could attack her anytime and she could do nothing to defend herself because she was frail and weak and felt inexorably tired.

Holding her breath, she tried to remain still while holding the red eyes gaze, forcing herself not to pity the huge monster that once again was visibly suffering.

He had a deep gash marking his left side and several wounds on his face and paws, cuts, scrapes, and other bruises that would have infected if not treated.

Isadore was surprised they weren't healed yet, but then a gust of wind ruffled the wolf's fur, making her nose wrinkle as she inhaled the acrid smell of aconite powder.

He was poisoned.

Fighting with herself to not give in to the commiseration she felt, Isadore struggled to remain still because it was late, she was alone, and she had no idea how the Rogue managed to find her there where she was supposed to be safe.

But then, feeling so desperately the pain the wolf was bearing, she was losing the battle with herself, Isadore could not explain it, but she felt a strange bond with the Rogue that was about to collapse in front of her.

“Don’t…”she was about to ask the Rogue not to move as she thought about approaching him, giving up caution and suffocating her instincts that prompted her to run away.

But she could not say it because at that very moment she felt before hearing paws approaching hurriedly and panic overwhelmed her. “Go..”she begged the Rogue stupidly worried for him when she should have been worried for herself.

But they were coming, the guards that uncle Viktor had left around caught the Rogue smell and were coming to hunt him down.

And they were not alone.

They have probably mind linked the warriors and these should have been quite close because they arrived just behind the guards that uncle Viktor had left there to protect her.

Isadore could not let go of the breath she was still keeping because Kellan remained behind his warriors for a second and meeting his enraged gaze she felt painfully guilty.

But then he was gone as well and she sighed and ran inside because she could no longer hide her undefined emotions.