-The NARRATOR'S POV-
Here we go!
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The grand council chamber was unusually tense, its air thick with murmurs and half-formed suspicions. It was a first for many in the room—to see werewolves and humans standing among vampires in a high-level council meeting. Traditionally, the council was composed only of pureblood vampire nobles and high-ranking officials. Even the queens, bound to the royal harem, were excluded from political convocation. For them, power was exercised in shadows, not on the council floor.
The King sat at the highest seat, his expression unreadable, carved from stone and years of rule. His silence rang louder than words. At the far end of the chamber, Charvi and Alan stood together, both tense, their presence an anomaly in this hall of ancient customs.
Kael and Agira entered, still in discussion, their voices low and grim.
"The reports are consistent," Kael said, handing Agira a sealed scroll. "More sightings of feral werewolves in the outskirts. But this time... they weren't alone."
Agira skimmed the document and frowned. "Vampires," he murmured.
Kael nodded. "There are confirmed sightings of them working together. Unnatural alliances."
"That's more than political rebellion," Agira muttered, eyes narrowing. "It's ritualistic. Coordinated."
A sudden silence swept over the hall as the brothers stepped forward. The gathered nobles turned, scrutinizing them. Whispers echoed behind gilded pillars and velvet curtains. The air itself seemed to stiffen.
Agira spotted Charvi and gestured gently. "Come on. Sit here."
Charvi moved quietly toward the central table. Kael, meanwhile, approached Alan and placed a hand gently on her back, guiding her forward to stand behind Agira's seat.
The King's cold gaze swept over them. "I would prefer irrelevant spectators removed from council matters."
Agira raised a brow. "We are the main investigators appointed by your authority."
"I meant—"
"They are investigators assigned directly by the Temple of Sanctity," Agira interrupted sharply. His tone was sharp, deliberate.
The King's jaw tensed. But before he could reply, Charvi stepped forward, her expression composed and firm. "I assure you, Your Majesty, I am fully authorized to participate in this discussion."
The King paused, clearly irritated but unable to argue without challenging the Temple itself. "Very well," he said at last. "But there is no need for a werewolf to be part of this."
Alan took a step back, prepared to leave.
"She is one of the Temple's envoys," Agira said coolly. "She was present during the attack and is one of the few surviving witnesses. Her testimony is essential."
Alan bowed slightly, grateful for Agira's intervention.
With visible impatience, the King stood. "Fine. I suppose all the necessary figures are in place. I leave the proceedings to the Crown Prince. He shall lead this session and bear responsibility for the decisions made."
With that, he swept from the chamber, leaving a hush in his wake.
Zephiron, seated now at the head, lounged with regal arrogance. "Go ahead," he said, eyes gleaming with detached interest. "Let's begin."
Charvi stepped forward, her voice calm but commanding. "I request permission to visit every location where the ferals and rogue vampires were sighted. I need to assess the extent of the corruption. We must learn how much of the Temple's defensive magic has been exposed."
A rustle of surprise swept through the room.
"What do you mean by that?" came a deep, deliberate voice from across the table.
All eyes turned to the one who had spoken.
"Irayl Duskbane," Agira said, inclining his head slightly. "Elder of the Vampire Houses. He commands the western legions."
Charvi offered a respectful bow. "Greetings, Lord Duskbane."
He inclined his head. "Lady Charvi... could you elaborate? Are you suggesting the corruption isn't limited to vampires and werewolves?"
"Yes," Charvi answered carefully. "I believe other races may also be affected."
Shock flickered across several faces.
"I saw Deathbound in the forest," she added softly.
The word sent a shiver through the room. The Deathbound—creatures long thought extinct, born of cursed souls and corrupted rituals.
"So you mean to say..." Duskbane started.
"We can't conclude anything yet," Charvi interrupted, her tone firm but respectful. "But the possibility is there. And if they are returning, then what we're facing is not just a crisis of our borders... but a threat to the balance of the realms themselves."
Silence fell. Even Zephiron leaned forward slightly, all mockery gone from his face.
Charvi's words hung in the air like a silent decree.
"It is no longer a council meeting. It is the beginning of war preparation. A war that we have to fight together." Agira announced in front of the council.
.
.
.
As Charvi and Alan stepped into the chamber, they immediately closed the distance between them. The moment their eyes met, words became unnecessary. They fell into each other's arms, clinging tightly, tears silently streaming down their faces. The pain of separation, the fear of loss, and the relief of reunion all collided in a single, trembling embrace.
"I thought I lost you," Charvi whispered, her voice raw with emotion.
"I thought so too," Alan replied, holding her tighter.
Charvi pulled back slightly, studying her friend's face. "Are you alright? I heard you protected the envoys the whole time."
Alan nodded, though her eyes flickered with something deeper—an ache that hadn't yet settled. "It was my duty to protect your people, Prin—"
"Not here," Charvi interrupted gently, placing a hand on her arm. "Not now, and not like that. You're a noble lady, Alan. There's no need to call me that, especially not here."
Alan hesitated before shaking her head, her expression hardening with conviction. "I'm no longer a noble. My parents were assassinated... and you were the one who rescued me. I owe you my life. I'm no longer someone who holds a title. I am your sword now—your shadow. Let me serve as your protector, as I was meant to."
Charvi looked at her for a long moment. Pain and pride warred in her gaze. "Then allow me to promise this—your title will be restored. I'll make sure of it."
Alan shook her head gently, stepping back to meet Charvi's eyes with quiet resolve. "I don't need my title back, Charvi," she said softly. "I don't want it. What I want is to stand by your side—not as a noble, not as someone you rescued, but as someone who chooses to protect you, because I believe in you."
Charvi stared at her for a long moment. There was a flicker of emotion in her gaze—gratitude, guilt, affection—all entangled in silence. She had seen Alan bleed for her people, vanish without a trace, survive ferals, and return with half the strength she left. And still, she stood proud.
"Then I hope you will let me protect you too," Charvi replied, stepping forward. "Not just as someone indebted to you, but as someone who wants to be beside you in whatever comes next."
Alan gave a rare smile, tired but genuine. "Then I'll hold you to it."
A knock echoed on the chamber door. A servant stepped inside cautiously. "Lady Charvi, Lady Alan, you are summoned to the northern terrace by Prince Kael. He says the scouts have returned."
The air between them immediately shifted—softness replaced by sharpened alertness.
"We'll be there shortly," Charvi replied. As the servant bowed and exited, she turned to Alan again. "Ready?"
Alan nodded and straightened herself. "Always."
The two women emerged from the chamber into the corridor bathed in muted golden light from the setting sun. Shadows danced across the marble floor as they made their way toward the terrace overlooking the northern cliffs. There, Kael stood with a rolled parchment in hand, his brow furrowed as he conversed with Mevira and Agira.
As soon as he saw them, Kael's eyes lightened just a little. "We've got word from the scout unit sent to the northern reaches."
Mevira nodded. "It's... not good. Four more feral werewolves were found. Two were neutralized, and the others escaped. One of the captured ones..." she hesitated, "was not born feral."
Charvi's eyes widened. "Not born?"
"It was turned recently. Against its will." Agira said, voice low. "There were signs of blood magic. And... distortion. Ritual markings were found on its body. Markings not native to either the Temple of Vitality or any known rogue cult."
Charvi processed the news grimly. "So, the ritual corruption is spreading."
Kael unrolled the parchment and held it toward her. "This is a copy of the runes they found. You might recognize them."
Charvi took the parchment and scanned the symbols. Her expression darkened almost immediately.
"They're not just corrupted. They're blended." She looked up. "These are traces of both temple magic and dark ritual engravings. Someone is modifying the Temple's protective sigils and embedding them with decay spells."
Alan's voice was barely a whisper. "That means... they've infiltrated temple knowledge."
"And worse," Charvi added, "they're using that knowledge to reverse our protective magic. That's how they're getting past wards. That's how they're resisting divine energy."
Mevira stepped forward, concern written all over her face. "If that's true, then even the capital's temple sanctuaries could be at risk."
Agira nodded. "That's why we need to move faster. I'll prepare a team to escort us to the northern villages. We need to investigate the corruption from the ground up."
Kael turned to Charvi. "You'll need protection, especially now that we know someone is targeting inner hall disciples."
Alan stepped forward immediately. "I'll stay with her."
Kael gave her a half-smile. "I expected no less."
Charvi looked out toward the north, her jaw tightening. "We leave at first light. I need to see the sites myself."
The wind picked up around them as silence settled. The scent of frost and pine drifted in from the cliffs.
From the darkness beyond the mountains, something stirred.
Something watching.
And waiting.
-To Be Continued-
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See you in the Comments.
-P.S. CONSTRUCTIVE ADVICE WOULD BE APPRECIATED. REFRAIN FROM SPREADING HATE.-