Rhea They say the dead leave behind memories. Elara didn’t. She left behind a war. I just didn’t know it yet. The journal sat like a curse on the table, its pages whispering to me every time I walked past it. That morning, after the dream and the… footprints, I made coffee strong enough to punch a hole through time and stared at that damn book.The line circled in red ink wouldn’t stop echoing in my head.“The Crimson blood is not a curse. It’s a key.”Key to what, I wonder?I flipped through more pages. Elara had been recording symbols, herbs, and moon phases. Sketches of animals with glowing eyes and wolves with runes etched into their fur. Words like “Alpha line,” “blood pact,” and “awakening.”I didn’t know whether she’d gone mad… or worse, whether she hadn’t. A knock on the door startled me. I blinked at it, half expecting another dream. But instead, there she was.A girl with violet-tipped hair, dark eyeliner, and a leather satchel full of books. She smiled nervously. "Hi. You
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