Introduction.
1103 Words
Away from the city's hustle and bustle, and as it approached the forest on its outskirts, hidden behind the majestic pine trees, there stood the Luckwood family Palace. Its ancient stones stood firm, despite all the conflicts and wars its inhabitants had faced, as well as the curses they had been forced to confront for years.
A few years ago, inside one of the spacious rooms of this Palace, a loud cry of a newborn baby girl echoed. Her life opened just as the Moon completed her ascent behind the Palace, a scene that made it a distinctive moment as Wolves howls resonated in the presence of the full Moon. It was a special night for the WEREWOLVES, especially for those of this Pack.
The body of the newborn baby girl was placed in the arms of her mother, Eleanor. Despite being a strong and powerful supernatural creature, the birth affected her just unlike all female Werewolves. However, Eleanor was like one on the brink of death as she held her delicate newborn. She cradled her cautiously, gazing at her calm face and the reddened skin with traces of blood. She embraced her gently against her chest, tears falling onto the tiny head that lay upon her shoulder. Tears of happiness for her first-born daughter, the first one to survive after the deaths of her previous offspring.
The cry of the little girl served as a signal, alerting everyone in the Palace to her birth. All the women and mothers of the Pack rushed to the room, their happiness preceding them. They found Eleanor lying there, exhausted but embracing her newborn. They offered her heartfelt congratulations. Finally, this woman had given birth to a living child who hadn't died immediately like her predecessors, and there had been quite a few of them.
"I hope this beautiful baby girl lives happy days with you and the Luckwood family, Eleanor," one of the women spoke as she approached, taking the small baby from Eleanor's arms to give her a clean bath and dress her in some clothes. Eleanor's eyes followed her, as if afraid that her precious little one might stop breathing if she looked away for a moment.
A few days had passed, filled with celebration, music, dancing, warm delicious meals, and aged wine for all Pack members, not just the Alpha's family. And the newborn, just a few days old, had fully opened her eyes.
Her eyes were SILVER, wide with a distinctive round pattern. Her pupils gleamed with the precious silver color, and everyone hoped that they would find something precious in life through those eyes.
At that time, ZACHARIAH, the seventh heir to the king, learned of the new arrival in the Palace. Zachariah had sharp green eyes that were more intimidating than those of his elder siblings, despite being younger than them. He bore a clear mark on his neck, a WOLF'S FACE with a CRESCENT MOON on his forehead. He was extremely quiet, with an empty look, though quite normal when playing with the pups.
He secretly watched the little one from behind the door of the suite where she lived with her parents, his radiant eyes fixed on the little pup's eyes. She was a new creature, appearing suddenly, and he wanted to discover her.
After Eleanor had ensured her little one's safety and tranquility, she walked out of her suite. She noticed the young Zachariah standing and gazing at her with his puppy eyes. She smiled gently, speaking to him with a motherly tenderness that suited her kind personality, "Go and welcome SILVER. I think she wants to play with you."
Zachariah hesitated and entered the room, approaching the baby's crib and standing beside it. He observed the small body, only her face visible due to the thick covering. He watched her random, childish movements, studying them as if he were examining her details, or memorizing them by heart.
Suddenly, he turned his head backward when he heard Eleanor's quiet laughter and her words, "Why are you afraid? She's just a little baby. You were like her not too long ago."
Zachariah redirected his gaze to the baby once more, feeling a SPARK in his mind. He sensed his lungs expanding in an odd way, as if someone had cursed him with Black Magic. He felt apprehensive about her, so he was entirely fearful this time. He left the room, running away in unsteady steps.
Then, his small body collided with a woman outside the suite, but he continued running before she could apologize. She ignored him and kept walking toward Eleanor's room to inform her, "The Alpha requests to see you."
Eleanor raised her thin eyebrows in surprise, then sighed, planting a long kiss on her daughter's forehead. She walked toward the Alpha's suite, on the third floor where her suite too, while anticipating what he would say.
She entered his grand office adjoining his suite and found him with his back turned, gazing at the Wolf painting on the wall behind him. It occupied half of the wall opposite the door, with distinctive and rare details of a White Wolf with honey-colored eyes. The Alpha recognized her scent as he turned around, continuing in a composed manner, "Hello, Eleanor. Please, have a seat."
She sat on a chair across from his large desk, waiting calmly for him to speak. After a long silence, he sighed, closing his eyes and muttering, "Your daughter Silver is different... I think HISTORY is repeating itself."
She had expected these words from him; he was always this straightforward. She answered him spontaneously and confidently, raising her nose defiantly, "She's still a child. Things like this won't affect her. I just don't want you to tell anyone about her, or else disasters will happen."
Then, she stood up with irritation, as the Alpha interjected, cutting her departure, "Eleanor, I'm sorry for my words. But she'll face many challenges if someone finds out what's special about her. It's better to keep her away from anything that could cause trouble until the right time comes."
She answered, giving him her back as she walked out slowly, her calm expression shifting to one of annoyances, "As long as you won't tell anyone, everything will be fine. Because my little Silver will be STRONG enough..."
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Long ago, long before both my birth and yours, a great conflict arose between the Witches and the Werewolves, leaving an eternal curse between them. And through it, the tale of the magic heart was etched onto the Witch's heart and mind, passing down through generations...
- Zachariah Luckwood.
- Writer
