Awakening Shadows
879 Words
The dream came three nights after Jackson and I agreed to try friendship. I'd been sleeping
better, lulled by our unexpected peace, when the vision hit me with shocking force.
I stood in a moonlit clearing surrounded by ancient standing stones that hummed with
otherworldly power. The air crackled with energy that made my skin tingle. At the center sat
a woman who looked exactly like me, but older, more regal, with eyes holding centuries of
wisdom.
She wore a flowing white gown that seemed woven from moonbeams, silver light trailing
behind her like liquid starfire. Her dark hair fell past her shoulders, adorned with a crown of
silver leaves that caught and reflected the ethereal light from the stones.
"Daughter of my blood," her voice resonated through my mind rather than my ears, sending
vibrations through my entire being. "The time of awakening draws near. You are more than
they believe, more than you know."
I tried to speak, but no words would come. The dream-woman smiled sadly and raised her hand
toward me. Her palm was marked with intricate silver tattoos that moved and shifted in the
moonlight, forming patterns that felt familiar in some deep, ancestral way.
"Find the journal, Alera. Find the truth they buried with my death. Your destiny cannot
remain hidden forever. The pack needs what you carry within you, whether they realize it or
not."
The woman's image began to fade. "Beware those who would use your power for their own
ends. Trust your instincts, but most of all, trust the strength you have always possessed but
never recognized."
I woke up gasping, heart pounding, cold sweat covering my skin. The dream felt too real, too
specific to be imagined. More disturbing was the bone-deep certainty that the woman had
been my mother.
For three days, her words haunted me. Find the journal. What journal? My mother had died
when I was barely three, and Aunt Helena always claimed nothing remained of her
belongings. Everything had been lost in the fire, or so I'd been told.
But what if that had been a lie?
On the fourth day, while Jackson led morning patrols, I found myself at Aunt Helena's
cottage. I'd avoided coming here since the wedding she'd made her disapproval of my
"undeserved elevation" clear. But now, driven by the dream's urgency, I knocked on her
weathered door.
Alera." She opened it with obvious reluctance. "What are you doing here?"
"I need to ask about my mother."
Her face went pale, then hard. "Your mother is dead. There's nothing to discuss."
"Please, Aunt Helena. I know you kept some of her things"
"I kept nothing." The lie was obvious in her voice, in the way her eyes darted away.
"Everything was destroyed after the incident. It was necessary for pack safety."
"What incident? What really happened to her?"
But Helena was already backing away, closing the door. "Go back to your new life, Alera.
Leave the past buried."
The dismissal only strengthened my resolve. That evening, while Jackson worked late, I made
my way to the pack's record hall. I'd helped organize the archives during my teenage years
and knew the layout well.
The building was dark and empty. I slipped inside through a window with a broken latch,
moving carefully to the section containing vital records. My mother's file was a surprisingly
thin birth certificate, mating certificate, my birth record, then a death certificate listing
only "accidental fire" as the cause. No details, no investigation summary.
But the handwritten note clipped to the back made my blood run cold:
*"Personal effects secured in vault 7 pending Council review. Authorization required for
access. Items deemed too sensitive for general storage. — E. Thane"
Vault 7. My heart raced. I knew exactly where that was secure basement storage for sensitive
materials. If my mother's belongings had been "secured" rather than destroyed, there might
be a journal waiting.
I made it to the basement without incident. The vault was protected by both physical locks
and supernatural wards, but as I approached vault 7, something unexpected happened and the
ward recognized me and simply dissolved. The lock clicked open under my touch.
Inside, covered by decades of dust, sat a wooden chest carved with symbols I didn't recognize
but that stirred ancestral memory. My hands trembled as I lifted the lid, revealing treasures:
a silver crescent moon pendant, a leather-bound journal, and a letter addressed to me in
elegant script.
"For my beloved daughter, when she comes of age her power awakens. You are the last of our
line, the final guardian of an ancient covenant. Do not let them convince you that you are weak, you are exactly as strong as the Moon Goddess intended. Your loving mother, Isabelle
Nightshade, Last Priestess of the Silver Circle"
I clutched the letter to my chest and wept. All my life, I'd believed I was cursed, broken. But
what if I'd been wrong? What if my supposed weakness was actually something much more
powerful?
As I carefully returned everything to its hiding place, keeping only the pendant tucked inside
my shirt, I made a decision that would change everything:
It was time to stop hiding and start discovering exactly what Alera Nightshade was truly
capable of.
- Writer
