He thinks he’s powerful, but he’s just a man. A weak, greedy, pitiful man. If I could poison him, I would. If I could light the whole stronghold on fire, I would.
But I can’t. Not yet. Nina says we must be careful. She says we must wait. How much longer must I endure this?
It happened.
Nurse Nina says she has a plan. She says we can’t stay here any longer. “He’ll kill you,” she said, her voice shaking. “He knows about the prophecy. He knows about this too.”
I don’t know if we’ll survive, but I trust her. She’s the only one I have left.
She packed the tea, the herbs, and the salts. She told me to run, to go as fast as I could and never look back. She stayed behind to distract them. I didn’t want to leave her, but she shoved me toward the door. Her hands were trembling.
I made it to the forest. My lungs burned, my legs felt like they would give out, but I kept running. Nina said to run until I couldn’t hear anything but my beating heart. So I did.
The trees here are dark, the ground uneven, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The sound of the village faded behind me, replaced by the pounding in my ears and the crunch of leaves.
I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where to go, but I’m free. For now.
I met a vólkin today. I thought they were only stories Mother told me as a child. “Guardians of nature,” she’d called them, protectors of balance and life. Now I see she was right.
His name is Ándor. He’s enormous, with fur the color of a stormy sky and eyes that seem to see straight into my soul. At first, I was afraid, but he knelt before me, and his voice was calm when he said, “You’re safe now.”
He told me he felt my presence long before he saw me. He said it’s because I’m spiritual. I told him what my mother said, that I’m a leader from a prophecy, that I must restore balance.
He knew where to go, so we went and found an old woman. She said she’s Nina’s friend and told me I’m the Lidéren. She knew my mother as well, and I don’t understand anything anymore.
Ándor brought me food today. Berries and roasted meat. I haven’t eaten like this in months. He watches me with such care, as if I’m something precious. It makes me feel strange, but not in a bad way.
He placed his paw gently on my belly and said, “She’ll be strong, like her mother.” For the first time in a long time, I felt hope. Nina’s friend said it’s a girl. She knows everything.
I’ve been thinking about names. Mother always said names carry meaning, that they shape who we are. I told Ándor about a name I read in one of her books: Noël. It means birth and new beginnings. He smiled.
Noël the blue rose. It sounds perfect.
That’s who she is, my little Noël. She’s the start of something new. After everything, she’s my hope, my light.
My belly is rounder with every passing moon. Ándor laughs when she kicks, saying she’s already strong like her parents. Hetalks to her a lot, his voice low and soothing, telling her about the forest and the stars. It makes my heart ache in the best way.
I think about what her life will be like here. No walls, no fear, only freedom. Ándor says he’ll grow us a home, a place where she can grow up surrounded by nature’s beauty. I believe him.
The forest feels alive. It’s quiet, but not silent. The trees whisper, the streams sing, and the air is sweet with the scent of flowers. Ándor says the land welcomes me, and I carry blue-rose blood. The forest loves our Noël too.
He told me today that we’re bonded. Mates, he called us. I don’t fully understand it, but I feel it. It’s like a thread connecting us. For the first time in years, I feel safe. I feel loved.
I am happy.
I can’t wait to meet her. Every time she kicks, it feels like she’s reminding me she’s there, waiting and growing. I imagine holding her, seeing her little hands and her big eyes. Ándor says she’ll look like me, but I think she’ll have his strength. He loves her so much.
She’s my everything already. My Noël. My new beginning. Noël will run through these trees, free of chains. That is my promise.
Year 714
Ándor says this is the perfect place for us. He grew our home right from the trees, weaving the walls from their branches. It feels alive and warm, like the forest is holding us close.
He tells me stories about Ávera, the land beyond the barrier. He says it’s beautiful, full of green fields and crystal streams.It’s where we belong, he says. Where Noël will grow. I can’t wait to see it. I can’t wait to raise her there when the barrier finally lifts. After the bonding ritual, I’ll have crystals like Ándor. And I’ll live as long as he will—thousands of years.
I will have thousands of years with the family we’re creating. I don’t know how to put the joy into words.
We made her a crib today. Ándor worked all morning, shaping the wood with his massive paws. I cried when I saw it. It’s simple and strong, just like him. The moment my tears fell, blue roses bloomed around it.
