GOLD & AZURE

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 14: ECHOES OF THE PAST

PART I: THE SANCTUARY OF SHADOWS

The air in the lower corridors of the Quartz Palace had grown heavy, thick with a cold humidity that seeped beneath the skin. Escorted by Anastasia and Olga, Elowen felt as though she were descending toward her own funeral. Thalys’s kiss still burned on her lips, a fiery imprint in a world of ice, but that sensation of warmth was violently countered by the icy guilt crushing her lungs. Mia and Béa were captives. Because of her. Because of what she represented.

They reached an imposing wrought-iron door, concealed behind a tapestry depicting the ancient constellations of the North. Anastasia placed her hand on a quartz stone embedded in the wall. A bluish glow pulsed through the veins of the rock, and the mechanism activated with a low rumble.

— “Enter, Elowen,” Anastasia commanded in a tone that brokered no refusal.

The secure room was a vast vaulted hall, carved directly into the root of the mountain. Whale-oil lanterns cast an amber light on the tense faces of those who had already found refuge there. The Clan Elders, draped in heavy furs, spoke in hushed tones, while the women strove to soothe the crying children. The scent of ancient dust and beeswax drifted through the air.

Olga did not waste a moment. While Anastasia assumed her role as improvised regent, Olga headed toward a weapon rack at the back of the room. Her movements were precise, almost ritualistic. She stripped off her velvet tunic to don a breastplate of boiled leather reinforced with brushed steel plates. She equipped two short swords at her hip and secured half a dozen throwing daggers in her boots and harness. Finally, she unhooked a shield of ironwood rimmed with bronze, emblazoned with the Barsky claw.

— “Do you really think we’ll need all of this here?” Elowen asked, her voice trembling.

Olga turned toward her, her stocky, warrior face showing no fear, only implacable resolve.

— “A Barsky never waits for the enemy to knock on the door to draw their blade. If the Palace falls, this room will be our last rampart. I don’t intend to die praying, but cutting throats.”

— “If the Palace falls, it is because we allowed an intruder to cross our walls!”

The voice, creaking and laced with venom, belonged to Hokan. Thalys’s uncle, a man with a parchment-like face and eyes as gray as a storm sky, stepped toward them. He was the leader of the Elders who opposed his nephew’s reign, and his hatred for Elowen had been known since the last council.

— “Look at her,” Hokan spat, pointing a finger at Elowen. “The Cursed Wolf. The black cat of our pack. Since she arrived, the North bleeds. Our daughters have been taken, our warriors have fallen. All for a nameless, honorless stranger.”

Anastasia drew herself up, towering over Hokan. Her imperial bearing and gaze of ice made the uncle take a step back.

— “Silence, Uncle Hokan. You speak of Alpha’s mate. And you speak in the name of a clan you never had the right to lead.”

— “The mate?” Hokan roared. “She is a curse! She is leading us to ruin. Thalys is blinded by his c**k, but we, the Elders, see clearly. She should be handed over to Krane. Give them what they want and bring Mia and Béa back!”

A murmur of approval rippled through some of the old men present. Elowen felt a wave of dizziness. She took a step forward, hands clasped against her chest.

— “I... I will leave if I must. If it can save Mia and Béa...”

— “You are going nowhere!” Olga thundered, striking her shield with her iron-gloved hand, a sharp crack that silenced the assembly. “You will stay here under my guard. If a single one of you,” she fixed Hokan with murderous intensity, “tries to lay a hand on her or hand her over, they will have to go through my sword. Is that clear?”

Hokan spat on the ground but said nothing more. The tension remained palpable, electric, like a poisonous mist stagnant in the room. Elowen settled into a dark corner, huddling with her knees against her chest. Hokan’s words echoed like a cruel truth. She was nothing but a source of misfortune.

PART II: STEEL AND BLOOD

On the surface, silence had fallen over the Quartz Palace, but it was a silence of war. Under the starry Northern sky, four warriors appeared at a gallop, escorting a figure who seemed to carry the weight of the world.

Sacha had returned.

Xander and Matveï were waiting on the porch, their stone-cold faces illuminated by torches. When the riders stopped, Xander’s heart skipped a beat. Lying on makeshift stretchers dragged behind the mounts, Karl and Anton looked like ghosts.

Sacha jumped from her reindeer before it even came to a halt. She was covered in blood, the blood of their own. Without a word, she began directing the transport toward the infirmary.

— “Are they alive?” Matveï asked in a hollow voice.

— “For now,” Sacha replied, her icy tone masking immense distress. “Wolfsbane spreads fast, and silver wounds do not heal. Karl has lost too much blood, and Anton... Anton was hit in a main artery in his thigh.”

She did not stop to weep for her husband. She was the healer of the Royal Pack. She pushed the warriors inside, her hands already busy preparing ointments and grinding frost roots.

Xander turned to Matveï. The time for emotion had passed. The Alpha had entrusted them with a mission, and they were going to execute it with the precision of clockwork.

— “Matveï, take command of the third unit. I want every inch of the wall covered. If a crow lands on our ramparts, I want it identified and shot down before it can flap its wings.”

Matveï nodded, his muscles rippling under his combat tunic. The two brothers parted, their voices echoing through the courtyard as they barked orders.

The Barsky military efficiency deployed with terrifying fluidity. The warriors, accustomed to siege drills, took their positions on the quartz ramparts. Heavy ballistae were armed with tempered steel bolts. In the depths, the access points to the tunnels were sealed by iron portcullises and magical protections that even the Elders could not have broken.

Xander climbed the highest watchtower. He scanned the valley below. The Quartz Palace was no longer a princely residence; it was an inviolable sarcophagus. Every tunnel, every ventilation duct, every crack in the rock was inspected and secured.

In the infirmary, Sacha struggled. She had removed her medical pouch, the same one she carried in her leopard form. The silence of the room was broken only by the whistling of Anton’s breath. She took a scalpel blade, her gaze fixed on the dark glint of wolfsbane in her husband’s wound. Her composure was her strength, but in the pit of her stomach, a desperate prayer rose toward the ancient gods of the North.

PART III: THE SUN TRACKER

Meanwhile, a few kilometers away near the village entrance and the Bitter Frost tavern, Thalys had resumed his human form. His breath created small clouds of vapor in the frozen air. Before him, the path was devastated. The broken sled lay like a wooden carcass, and the scent of betrayal was still fresh.

He squeezed the mother-of-pearl button in his hand. An object that did not come from the North. An object that did not belong to him.

— “You won’t find anything more by staring at the snow, Alpha.”

Thalys spun instantly, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. Emerging from the shadows of the fir trees, a woman stepped forward with quiet confidence. She was not tall and appeared quite young, but she exuded an aura of absolute competence. She wore practical, dark traveling furs, and at her side walked a dog as large as a calf with amber eyes, while a red-furred wildcat sat upon her shoulder.

It was Elara. To the villagers, she was a fur merchant staying at the tavern. To Thalys, she was a stranger and one more intruder upon this land.

— “Who are you?” Thalys growled, his blue eyes flashing with suspicion. “And why should I stop myself from adding you to the dead on this battlefield?”

Elara did not flinch. She pointed to the mother-of-pearl button in Alpha’s hand.

— “That button belongs to me. I gave it to your sisters this afternoon at the tavern. I hoped it would serve as a trigger for Elowen. So that she would remember who she truly is.”

Thalys froze.

— “You know Elowen. You know her past.”

— “I know much more than her secret, Alpha Thalys. I am a tracker. A scout. And I serve the Royal Pack of the Sun-Bearers.”

Thalys felt a cold sharper than the frost washing over him. The Sun-Bearers. A legendary Southern pack rumored to have been extinct for over a decade.

— “The Sun-Bearers no longer exist,” he retorted skeptically. “Their throne fell ten years ago in a bloodbath.”

— “Kings may fall, but the roots remain,” Elara replied, her voice tinged with solemn sadness. “Thirteen years ago, a brutal attack decimated our people. The King and Queen were murdered before their children’s eyes. The princes, Kian and Ian, were left for dead, gravely wounded. Elowen, the youngest, vanished in the chaos.”

Thalys listened, his mind racing. The details matched the fragments of stories he had heard over the years.

— “And you claim the princes are alive?”

— “They are. They survived, hidden in the ashes of our castle. They spent thirteen years rebuilding what could be saved among the orphans and the elderly. They never stopped searching for their sister. And now, I have found her. But I did not foresee that the shadows of Malphas and Krane would stretch this far.”

Thalys remained silent, weighing every word. He was a king and a leader of several clans, used to political ruses and lies. Yet the sincerity in Elara’s voice and especially the presence of her animal companions who seemed almost sentient, troubled him.

— “Why should I help you?” he finally asked. “My young sisters are held captive by cruel and honorless Alphas.”

— “Your sisters are captive because Krane wants to strip you of the power that Elowen represents. If you want to see them again, you will need new allies who know the tactics of the Skinners and the Dark Moon, allies who can track a wolf through a blizzard or the foul scents of magic. I offer you my help in the name of the Royal Pack, Thalys Barsky. Not just for my princess, but for your sisters as well.”

Thalys looked at the mother-of-pearl button. It was a tiny piece of evidence, but it was all he had.

— “If you betray me, I will make you regret it with my own hand and with your life.”

Elara offered a joyless smile.

— “Understood. But before we move, I must send my report to the princes.”

She took a small vial containing golden dust from her pocket. She blew it into the air, and murmuring a few words in an ancient tongue, the dust took the shape of a small bird of light that flew South at lightning speed.

— “The message is sent,” she said, turning back to the Alpha. “Ian and Kian will soon be informed. The Royal Pack may be a ruin in reconstruction, but we still have very strong allies, and the princes will not let their blood be spilled a second time.”

Thalys felt a new resolve take hold of him. He was no longer alone in this hunt.

— “Then, tracker... show me where those monsters took my family.”

The snow leopard woke within him, his senses sharpening to the extreme. Together, the king of the Northern snow leopards and a Sun-Bearer scout dove into the darkness, where war awaited them, impatient to claim its due.