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Rise Of The Silver Wolf 78
“The girls are safe! They're gone to the safe house!” she said as she tackled and beheaded one of the creatures they were fighting. Her words were strained but certain. The speed and savagery of her counterattack belied the calmness of her lie—or her mistaken belief. She was trying to reassure him, giving him a reason to focus on his own survival, but the very act of speaking drained precious energy. “I need you safe, Thalindra, please! You have to listen to me!” Father’s frustration was palpable, turning into a desperate kind of anger. He spun, driving a fist into the chest of an approaching creature, the force of the blow throwing it violently backwards. “Even if the girls are safe for now, losing both of us to this battle will not mean safety for them!” He was appealing to her mother's instinct, the one thing stronger than her loyalty to him. He was forcing her to look beyond the immediate moment, to the long-term, terrible consequence of their dual sacrifice. “Please go! Stay
Rise Of The Silver Wolf 77
Suddenly the scene changed and now I was standing at a battlefield. The soft warmth of the nursery was violently ripped away, replaced by a searing, choking blast of heat. The sound was deafening, a chaotic symphony of human agony and monstrous aggression that assaulted my ears. The air I breathed was thick and toxic, filled with the acrid stench of burning houses, flames, smoke and screams. It was pure, unadulterated war, a visceral nightmare that seemed to swallow the light. My paralysis was gone, replaced by a horrified immobility as I took in the devastating panorama of destruction. The world around me had gone from the quiet moment of creation to the desperate, final moment of its undoing. I felt myself instinctively pull my arms over my head, though there was no immediate physical danger, only the terror of being immersed in such violence. My eyes frantically scanned the chaos, seeking one small point of clarity, one island of recognition in the sea of violence. But among the
Rise Of The Silver Wolf 76
Everything was making sense, yet nothing was making sense. This wasn't a memory; it was too vivid, too immediate. It felt like living a moment I had been excluded from, watching the most crucial instant of my history unfold without me. I was just a spectator of things that have already happened, like I'm watching it through someone else's eyes. It was a terrifying, invasive feeling. I wasn't just observing; I was in the experience, yet utterly unable to interact. I was a ghost in my own past, seeing the genesis of my life through the blurry lens of someone else’s perspective. It felt like being privy to a deeply personal secret, a beautiful, devastating truth that was both intimately mine and forever out of my reach. The fear of being powerless was replaced by the deep, mournful ache of exclusion. He walked to the bed. His steps were quiet, hesitant, as if the floorboards might suddenly shatter this fragile bubble of joy. Every muscle in his powerful body seemed to be straining, n
Rise Of The Silver Wolf 75
Every step was taken against my better judgment, yet I couldn't stop. I matched their slow, measured pace, a reluctant shadow trailing behind their ominous form. He led me to another door and stopped abruptly. This door was different. It wasn't massive like the main entrance to the hall. It was darker, older-looking, and seemed to drink the light around it, yet I could sense a massive amount of energy emanating from it. It felt like a solid wall of magic, not wood or stone. The figure paused, their back still to me, and the air between us crackled with anticipation. This was the destination. This was where the answers, or the end, lay hidden. The moment I walked to the entrance of that door, something snapped in me. It was a sharp, distinct soundless fracture, like a taut cord breaking deep inside my chest. It wasn’t a pain, but a profound, instant release of tension, followed by a terrifying emptiness. The compelling force vanished, replaced by an internal chaos that was far worse.
Rise Of The Silver Wolf 74
I quickly turned around and almost had a heart attack. There was another figure standing right there. My mind scrambled to make sense of the impossibility. They were silent, utterly soundless. They hadn't walked in. They hadn't followed. They had simply appeared. My eyes searched the floor for any sign of disturbance, a scraping sound, a displaced piece of grit, anything to explain their arrival, but there was nothing. It was like they were a part of the shadows, a form coalesced from the very gloom of the hall itself. How did they even get here? The question was more a plea for sanity than genuine curiosity. Magic. It had to be magic, something far beyond the simple manipulation of elements or energy I was familiar with. This felt like a fundamental bending of reality. I felt a sudden, dizzying sense of vulnerability, a profound realization of just how utterly outmatched I was in this place. I looked back to the entrance, but the other two who led me here are gone. The heavy door
Rise Of The Silver Wolf 73
It came not from external fear, but from the internal instability left by the vision. It was the residual energy I'd felt stirring, the unsettling sense of a colossal internal change. The room tilted precariously, and a wave of nausea washed over me. The small, focused sight of my hands wavered. I fought to keep a neutral expression. I couldn’t let them see this vulnerability. I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief, controlled second, forcing the spinning to stop, forcing the nausea back down my throat. I breathed slowly, deeply, a silent exercise in self-control. Then, the moment was over. Without a word—their unbroken silence was more intimidating than any threat—they bent over in unison. It was a synchronized, robotic movement, emphasizing that they were not individuals, but merely components of a directive. Their large, gloved hands reached out. One figure reached for my left wrist, the other for my right. They secured my arms, not roughly, but with an absolute, non-negotiab
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