"Ive heard Galathea saying she heard the song of songs, whisper of whisps. But not a cry of a child." The King stared at Accashia’s ghostly pale face. The Luna was still in shock. She was only wearing a thin bathrobe, contrasting the dark thick cotton robe that enveloped Calleb’s body. "A shrill cry. A woman singing an eerie lullaby. I’ve heard of that before. But not from a newborn child —” He looked at his son, then smiled. “None, except from you, son. The day you were born.” "Maybe we should have the Castle blessed?" Calleb had asked. "Before being rebuilt, this place was heavily guarded by Shadows. Dangerous skeleton-like creatures who are brought back to life by Ursula’s power. They carry an ember of soul in their chest. Lost souls." Bathal shuddered in the memory. "I remember. Maybe the Castle needs to be blessed." "It’s not a soul." Accashia opposed. A frown on her face, disliking how the two Alpha’s are dismissing what she heard. "I know a soul when I feel one, see one. When
Accashia must have fallen asleep while the two Alpha’s were interrogating the old Shaman. She sits up straight and there's a blanket across her body until her chest. She pulled the covers up, bringing it up to her face. The young woman inhaled, smiling wide right after. It smells like her mate, warm wood and a hint of musk. Calleb’s scent reminded her of sunrise. It smells a little like her too. Accashia was not the type of person who always wakes up on the right side of the bed. Before, she’ll wake up with Luther’s face right in front of hers. Her older brother would always taunt her. Tease her, borderline torment her. Somehow she wishes he could erase it. The memories. "Why the long face?" Calleb appeared out of nowhere, shocking Accashia. Her soul almost left her body, and became a bit grumpy because of it. “Calleb!” She whined, screaming his name as she did. “You know that I startle easily! Don’t sneak up on me like an animal!” The Alpha grinned. “I am an animal though.” He wa
Legends of old had been passed throughout the Kingdom of Shaldan. That the great kings of the past, the Alpha of the East had lost his mind and ruined the Kingdom. The Queen, the Luna named Galathea had been murdered by her own mate. Songs about the legend had been made. "Don't go to the forest. Don't go to the east. Don't go near the forest, or you'll face the beast. Beware of the forest, beware of the beast. Once you see its fangs, you'll never know peace." The villagers knew the song by heart and they knew the reason, though the monsters were only talked about in whispers. In a lullaby. The Eastern Forest was dangerous for it had been neglected, forgotten. The forest was dark. Even the lights from the moon, the stars and thousands of fireflies were not enough to illuminate the sky. Everyone knew that. For how could they forget. A stone had been carved for the purpose of everyone's protection. Sometimes the village young boys and girls dared each other to step to the edge of the
Confused, scared and disheartened, Accashia tried to push away. The young woman kicked and tried to wiggle away from the beast but then a heavy, fury body of the beast stood over her, making her breath hitch. The beasts’ paws were larger than her hands. And she tried to fight off the shivering and collapsing of her body just by imagining how big the beast was. What if she pissed off the creature and used its paw to squash her head like a pumpkin? ‘What a horrible death.’ She blinked to herself then swallowed the lump against her throat. The beast growled, and it sounded furious. Accashia’s breathing became labored. Her eyes wide, as she pursed her lips tight. Tighter when she felt the creature’s paw nearing her body. She turned her head and stared at the sharp teeth at the end of a snout topped with deep bluish gray eyes. A wolf. A giant silver wolf. Almost as big as a… “Holy cow.” Accashia swallowed again when the wolf howled. She opened her mouth to scream, but then the wol
Morning came and Phil rushed to wake his brothers, their mother and father will be home soon from their journey. He shook them until they moaned and groaned. “What?” Luther groaned, then glared at the brawny teen. “Accashia. Mom and Dad will be home soon.” That sentence alone from Phil was enough to awoke Luther’s hazy mind. ‘Of course.’ How could he forget? “Is John up?” Phil shook his head. “No.” Luther grumbled under his breath and shoved Phil away from him. “Well, what are you doing then?! Go and wake him up!” “Ye–yes!” The skinny teen scrambled and ran to his brother’s room. “And go on and wake up Jill too! Tell her to make breakfast!” After the three youngsters put on their clothes, shoes and grabbed a scissor and a pocket knife, they went back to the forest to set their sister free. They wondered if she was still crying, if she tried to escape and they laughed thinking how much she begged for mercy. They ran, running as fast as they could out of their humble village and
“So your name is Accashia.” Luntian asked as she poured in a generous amount of stew on the bowl that Accashia was holding. “What a pretty name. The meaning of your name fits you as well.” Steam rose from the bowl, and because she’s starving the young lady did not mind the heat and took a sip. She made a sound of delight. “This is delicious.” She looked up to Luntian then gave the old lady a smile. “And… thank you.” She paused to take another sip. “For saying that my name is pretty.” “It is. As pretty as you.” Accashia frowned then shook her head. “I’m not pretty.” Luntian laughed after swallowing her food. “You are! Have you seen yourself?” The old lady stared at Accashia from head to toe and little by little, she noticed how Accashia was changing. Her long brown hair was turning ginger and the scars on her face, her body — from the past scars from the wounds from yesterday were healing. Her uneven skin from being on the sun for too long changed as well. From tan to fair. B
The full moon had risen last night. Never did she thought that the son of the Alpha — The King would survive. “That wretched Luntian.” The wicked witch hissed through gritted teeth. “That old hag really doesn't know how to mind her own goddamn business.” Sitting on the rusty throne, Ursula, the Wicked Witch combs her hair, her inch long fingers dragging and combing the straight black locks. Her smooth pale skin contrasted her black and purple cloak that pooled down to her ankles. Ruby lips, violet eyes. A beautiful face. Men from all over the world would fall for her ethereal beauty. Only there’s a secret behind that beautiful face and youth. She sold her soul to one of the Seven demons. Before she became this beautiful, she was one of the faithful Shaman’s who served the Kingdom of Shaldan. But things changed, her heart changed. And even after hundreds of years of the Kingdom’s decimation, she cannot move on. Not until every single descendant of the Alpha is killed and turned int
The thorns that separated the Village from the forest clung to her clothes. Piercing her thighs, scratching her bloody, letting out drops of blood. She barely made it back. Halfway through her journey back home, her legs were stiff and dry and her throat became itchy. Her body was begging for water. It’s only one of the many things that she felt. With one last push, she was out of the thorny bushes. “Oof!” She tripped and fell on the ground with a thud. And there it is, her Village. Walakya. Her home. It was a simple Village, brown small huts and houses. Many children were running and playing around, but at the sight of it, she felt lonely. It’s at times like these that she thinks back on how things used to be and that awful feeling of bitterness and resentment coils up in her gut like a cold unfeeling snake. She tried to think that she could live day by day doing the same routine. But… after what happened with Calleb, who can she turn to other than her family? Being in this Vil