Days rushed like hours, and soon several weeks had gone by with Aleron and Artemis training at dawn. The latter had been curious about tapping into the power of her wolf, but nothing seemed to bring it to life. The closest she got was in her dreams, but every time she saw it, it was bound in chains and wouldn’t even talk to her like it did the first time she saw it. Memories of her past barely disturbed her anymore, as she no longer got the déjà vu visions triggered. She was getting ready to let it all go when, at dusk one day, an invitation was delivered to her by a silent guard whose eyes never quite settled on her face.
The seal bore the mark of the Aethon royal crest, pressed deep into dark wax. No explanation accompanied it, but for such a seal to be on a letter, it meant one thing:
