Chapter 3

The chaperone reached for his fedora as the bluster of wind almost wafted it off him. His cloak fluttered, his body stiffened, and he would constantly look to the side to check on us in his peripheral vision. Harvey and I watched him from behind, as the fog underneath the carriage carried us through the field. The grass would part in a straight vertical line, as if leading the way towards the passage. When the wind blew stronger, the carriage slightly hurtled, and the chaperone tightened his grip against the saddle while Harvey shifted on his seat.

“This is making me uncomfortable,” Harvey commented, his eyes roaming all around us. “Like none of this is real.”

“We’re not even there yet,” I pointed out with a slight chuckle. “But I thought the same when your mom was talking to us about what to do, to be honest. It almost feels like they gave us away.” I tried not to sound frustrated by laughing it off, but Harvey looked at me with an unreadable face.

It took him a few seconds before responding, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you saying sorry?”

“You could’ve stayed with your mom, but now you’ll be stuck with me.”

He couldn’t be pitying himself now.

“It’s not like we have a choice.” I shrugged. “Your parents decided, and we followed. Besides, it’s my choice to be here.”

He avoided my gaze, as if he wanted to say more but chose not to. He must just be trying to adjust himself to our situation as much as I do. Everything happened too fast, too soon, that we didn’t have enough space to process it.

An archway came into view from a distance. Fog covered most of its length, but as we neared the area, a bright light illuminated its vicinity. The archway stood tall and humongous at the foot of the mountain with a glowing willow tree in the middle, hovering on the cobbled pavements. The carriage stopped, and the chaperone looked behind us.

“The passage is this way.” He pointed at the archway, and between its two bricked-pillars was a glass mosaic border.

None of these felt real, not until we stopped in front of the mosaic and saw our reflections through the glass shards. The light came from behind them, and we were in awe when fireflies swarmed around the carriage.

This was what I envisioned my dreams to be, not the nightmares that I’d been having. Now I gained a new appreciation for being awake, and if this was the passage, I couldn’t imagine what Azen could look like.

“This passage is only visible to humans. If you can see your reflection through the glass entrance, it means you’re allowed to enter,” the chaperone explained, his voice now reverberating.

I glanced at Harvey through the mosaic and noticed his eyes starting to turn red. Mine didn’t change into anything, but at least I could see my reflection.

“Your eyes,” I whispered. “You’re turning,” I noticed them getting more hollow and sunken.

“No. I don’t know.” Harvey lifted his hands as claws started to grow on his fingers.

“It’s Azen’s magic: the passage has its own way of making certain that you're supernatural, so it decompresses your ability to suppress your true nature.” The chaperone turned to look at me. I could see his face clearly now because of the light. He rubbed his fingers on his beard and slightly squinted his eyes. He noticed. But, instead of pointing it out, he looked away and gripped the saddle. “Now we must go.”

The fog-like cloud carrying the carriage disappeared as the horse’s feet came in contact with the ground, striding forward through the mosaic. I thought the glass was solid, not until we passed through it effortlessly without it budging –– like it was an illusion made of gas. As we entered, the light became more blinding, so we covered our eyes with our arms. It emanated warmth like the summer, and a tinkling sound that chimed in our ears.

Something about this experience flashed a memory from my childhood: the stillness of the water in the bayou, the crackling of the bonfire, and the werewolves celebrating as a new pup was born. I used to reminisce about them. Until something went wrong, and I had to tuck those memories away in the back of my mind. But I held onto them whenever nostalgia hit. It felt like a lullaby sometimes, and I would drift to sleep just by reanimating those memories.

I slowly opened my eyes when the blinding light subsided and was greeted by a dark tunnel. The horse’s hooves tapped against the ground, the sound it made reverberating at every stride. The fireflies joined in and led the way, as the circle of light at the end of the tunnel lit up the way.

“We are almost there,” the chaperone announced. “This is the only passage to the other side. And once you enter Azen, you cannot go back.”

A sudden panic rushed through me, so I leaned forward and asked, “Wait, so how did you pick us up if there’s no other way out?”

“I’m the chaperone. Azen provided me with the key, so I serve only this kingdom.”

He didn’t explain further, so I turned to Harvey, who just gave me a blank stare. Did he know? As magical as this felt, the thought of leaving my mom for good and not coming back was something I didn’t prepare for. If I had known I couldn’t go back, I wouldn’t have proceeded. But did she know?

“I’m confused,” I mumbled and tried to hold back the tears welling in my eyes.

“I promise you, Elle. Everything’s going to be alright,” Harvey reassured me, but I just furrowed my brows as weight formed in my chest.

“So you knew?”

He didn’t reply; instead, he bit his bottom lip and looked away. But before my emotions flooded my head, we’d already arrived at the end of the tunnel. We were greeted by a narrow street adorned by towering brick buildings that were attached together, standing across the cobbled road. People –– or supernaturals who looked like normal people –– strolled along the sidewalks. Unlit lamp posts and neat shrubs ran the border of the road, with a few benches placed near the shops. It looked more saturated in warmth, contrasting the neutral tones in the world of humans.

“Welcome to Azen!” The chaperone took off his fedora, revealing his curly, white hair. “You see, Azen isn’t very different from the other side. But only werewolves and lycans from different packs run this kingdom. They adopted the ways of the humans and made Azen more livable for every one of you.”

I flinched at the honk of the cars when we crossed a pedestrian. As I looked around, people here didn’t look any different –– from the way they dress (though they looked more cloaked because of the cold weather), their movements, and how they would walk together as if it was just a casual day. It was familiar yet so unfamiliar. This place looked more aged.

“I will drop you off at your assigned apartment.” The horse turned onto another street. The road here spread wider, but the brick buildings looked the same, only that they stood higher.

When the horse stopped in front of a sign, the chaperone unclasped the saddle and got off the horse. Harvey was the first to get out of the carriage. He extended his hand to me as I reluctantly took his help. Questions formed in my head, and the way he avoided my gaze made me more suspicious. Something’s not right. I ignored them for a moment, trying not to think too much about what the chaperone said. But Harvey has to tell me something.

The chaperone helped us carry the boxes and luggage inside the building. Stairs after stairs, and we finally reached our apartment door. Under the peephole was a name etched on a wooden frame. Crescent I, it read. That was the name of our pack, followed by a Roman numeral.

We stepped inside and realized something odd. The cream-colored walls, the cushioned couch near the wide window, the glass coffee table with ornate patterns standing in the living room, and the sandalwood scent surrounding the apartment reminded me so much of the human world. This contrasted the aged atmosphere of Azen’s street. I thought this place would look more magical –– ethereal, maybe –– because the passage set a clear image in my head.

We dropped each box and luggage just near the entrance beside a coat rack. After the chaperone handed us the apartment key, he bid us goodbye and left. I approached the wide window to have a glimpse of the busy street outside when Harvey walked right beside me.

“Don’t get too comfortable under the sun,” he commented, leaning an arm on the window pane as he stared at me. “The first time I saw you at your house, your face looked red.”

I rolled my eyes from his teasing and chuckled. My skin had gotten too pale; it could barely tolerate basic sunlight.

“I made sure to bring my sunscreen around.” We both laughed. “This looks just like the human world. It’s beautiful, just not as I expected.”

“Azen calls the human world the other side.”

I faced him and said, “You have a lot of explaining to do,” before I sat down on the couch beside the window. “Did you know all along that we can never go back to the other side?”

He pursed his lips, sighed, then sat on the couch across from me.

“Sorry if I didn’t tell you. It’s just that… I don’t know how I’m going to explain it.”

“Look, I don’t know any of this, and I don’t know if Mom is aware I can’t go back. I thought this was just like moving to another town or country. That I can go back anytime.” I tried to hold my frustration back because I didn’t want this to be something I would resent him for –– if he ever managed to be truthful.

“She doesn’t.” It was followed by a pause, as he clasped his hands together. “Mom and Dad know she won’t let you. She’s a human, Elle, a mother to a werewolf. Living with her would mean treating you as one of them.”

“But I’m a human, too. And wasn’t it your parents’ decision to blend in? I don’t understand.” I shook my head.

“They did, and they were wrong.”

“So why do we have to suffer for the consequences of it?”

“I can’t explain it, Elle. I’m so sorry.”

I scoffed. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to make things harder for us. We’re going to live together, and what matters is what we have right now.”

Before I could utter a word, the doorbell rang, pulling us out of our conversation as our attention was diverted to the door. Harvey stood from the couch and walked towards it. When he swung it open, there was no one standing in the frame. On the wooden floor outside laid two envelopes, which Harvey grabbed before he closed the door. 

“What’s that?” I asked.

He unclasped the red sealing wax and pulled the card from the envelopes.

“An invitation,” he handed me the other one, and I noticed our names were embossed in the back of it, “to the Moonlight Ball tomorrow night.”