“The bonding ritual is a sacred tradition, Your Majesty,” Elder Aïna says, her paws resting behind her back. “The last time it was performed was before the barrier appeared.”
We’re gathered in the council room. My mate’s declaration still echoes in my mind and my pride hasn’t calmed since. Her vow to restore the balance felt like peering into the dream I’ve carried since I was a pup.
The earth cries out, its pain born from the greed of men. Humans who know no satiety, no balance. Ádám was no different, seduced by a snake in the guise of a human female,even though he had Éva, our mother. Why would he forsake her? The answer is simple: greed.
I feel anger rise within me, not just at humanity’s selfishness but at my own ancestors, the vólkins who stood by and did nothing. They had their mates, their peace, and ignored the cries of the human women who suffered under men’s control. Time passed, and men’s power grew, until now, when women are confined to their villages.
“One of the goddesses said we’d meet at the bonding ritual,” Noël says, gripping the edge of the round table for support. Her body has been weak since she woke yesterday, and she’s still unable to stand for long. She argued with me earlier, insisting she didn’t want to be held like a child in the council room. So we compromised. I carry her only when she tires or needs to be moved. I’m not pleased that her body is suffering, but I can’t deny the selfish satisfaction I feel in being able to hold her. From the moment we met, carrying her has been my greatest honor.
Elder Aïna tilts her head, her ears flicking. “The goddess will be present? That is... unprecedented.”
“Elder Aïna,” I say with pride swelling in my chest, “I remind you that we are speaking of the six, especially the leader.”
Noël lifts her chin, her gaze catching mine. “The six?”
I nod. “The prophecy speaks of six human females and their six mates, who will unite and together will restore balance.”
“Since I am the leader,” my mate murmurs.
“Five more,” I finish her sentence.
“Where is this prophecy written? How does everyone know of it?” she asks.
“Before the goddesses disappeared, they whispered the prophecy through the trees,” Mina says before I can speak. “Elder Aïna taught us all their words.”
Elder Aïna’s gaze is warm as she looks at Noël. “Ethereal Leader, would you like to hear the words of the goddesses?”
Noël grips the edge of the round table tighter. I trace my claws over her back, offering support. She glances up at me, and I nod.
“The prophecy speaks of a leader born of the blue-rose lineage, who will restore balance to our world.”
As Elder Aïna begins to speak, a soft breeze drifts through the room, carrying with it the fresh, earthy scent of the forest. The carved roses on the council room walls pulse with a gentle blue light.
The vólkins in the room straighten, their postures instinctively proud. Mina, Naïa, and Essin stand on our right, with Kaël, Aeson, and Zephyr on the left. My mate and I stand before Elder Aïna as she speaks.
“In the heart of Ávera’s ancient woods, where moonlight gently hugged the earth, a sacred prophecy whispered through the forest. Secrets floated on the wind, known only to the wise. Amidst the mystical land, where spirits roamed and goddesses wove our fate, the Mother’s words echoed through time. Shadows danced, a connection between two worlds. Essence and soul will unite, tied by destiny’s threads. A coming together of spirit, body, and mind—a dance guided by moonlight and earth’s embrace. Yet, as this celestial dance unfolds, a shadow threatens to break Ávera’s destiny.”
Elder Aïna pauses as the wind grows stronger. The blue roses glow so bright their light reflects in the eyes of everyone present.
Noël stands tall despite her condition, her focus remains locked on Elder Aïna.
“The prophecy, whispered by the winds, spoke of a union between earthly souls and ethereal beings, a timeless bond that once upheld nature’s balance. But shadows hinted at disruption—a force conspiring to shatter harmony.” Elder Aïna’s voice rises. “Six will rise under the crescent’s glow, each bearing the mark of the ancient vow.”
Noël’s hand tightens on my arm. “I’ve heard this before,” she murmurs.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Every vólkin knows the prophecy by heart, but hearing it now, in her presence, makes my fur stand on end, the ancient words gripping my soul.
“The Leader,” Elder Aïna continues, and to my surprise, Noël joins her. Their voices blend together as one. “With vision clear, shall unite and guide. The Healer’s touch, life anew, against the tide. The Warrior stands, fierce and true, a protectorate’s might. The Scholar’s wisdom, a beacon of light. The Sentinel’s bond, with nature entwined. The Seer’s gaze, through the veils of time. Together they stand, against the night’s embrace, to heal the rift and restore grace.”
I open my eyes, and the council room is transformed. Blue petals drift through the air, falling from above like a gentle rain, as if the prophecy has awakened the walls’ essence.
The vólkins in the room exchange glances, but Elder Aïna’s attention remains fixed on my mate. I place my paw on her head, running it down her braid. My Noël looks around the room, her narrowed eyes studying each face.
“Noël?” I say, lowering myself to her level.
She meets my gaze but shifts her weight to lean toward the table. Ah, her legs are tiring. I wrap my arm around her waist and lift her into my hold. Compromising with her earlier was wise. She murmurs a quiet thank you as she grips the fur of my chest to steady herself.
“If we’re to find the remaining five,” she begins, her eyes sweeping over the room, “we’ll need to reach all the women in every village across the land.”
