Chapter 3: 3 Echoes Of The Past

Fifteen years had passed, Blackwood remained prosperous as it continued to evolve, but the village bore the marks of time like etchings on ancient stones. In the Duval household, the once-infant Ethan now stood at the precipice of his own tale.

Within the walls of the cottage, a familial hush enveloped the space as Isabella, who looked almost untouched by the passing of time prepared the evening meal. Ethan, now poised at the brink of adulthood, continued to lend a hand to his mother in the kitchen. Whenever he wasn't hunting or playing with his bow and arrows, he has grown up to be a skilled archer. However,his elder sister Celeste, of late, has displayed minimal enthusiasm for culinary tasks, cleverly delegating chores to Ethan while she ventured into the woods for hunting escapades with her father. Viktor disapproved of this imbalance, but his paternal weakness for his daughter overruled his objections.

The door creaked open, announcing the arrival of Marcus, Ethan's elder brother. "Ah, the lady of the house graces us. Have you missed me?" Marcus quipped mockingly. Even though two figures occupied the kitchen, Ethan discerned the intended target of his brother's jest.

"Thanks for the flattering compliment, brother. It's not every day you hear that you're so handsome you could pass for a lady... oh wait, it is. You keep repeating the same jokes brother, I am starting to think you might be empty up there," Ethan retorted, his tone dipped in a playful sarcasm that hung between them.

Marcus seized Ethan's head, thrusting it into the confines of his armpits. "Smell that? That's the scent of a man after a hard day's work, not some little punk thinking he's smart," Marcus declared with a grin. Ethan withdrew his head from the less-than-pleasant embrace, visibly repulsed. Fueled by annoyance, he poised to retaliate, but Isabella's voice cut through the tension, sharply declaring, "That's enough!". The two brothers exchanged a knowing glance, registering the gravity in their mother's tone. In unspoken agreement, they chose to let peace reign for the day.

The sibling rivalry between the brothers has escalated over the years, with Marcus consistently taking an offensive stance, prompting Ethan to navigate the role of defender. While their interactions often manifest as playful competition, there are instances when the dynamic veers into physical confrontation.

As Marcus strides out of the kitchen, Isabella directs him, "Go wash off, and try not to smell like a horse's ass. And where's your father and Celeste?" Marcus, in response, shares, "Dad and Celeste are out hunting for a wolf they spotted in the forest."

"Why didn't you continue hunting with them?" Isabella inquired of her son.

Marcus replied, recounting his father's directive to bring home the two deers he had slain. "Father insisted I bring back the ones we took down."

"I hope they'll manage to make it for dinner," Isabella remarked, her gaze lingering on Marcus for a few moments. The striking resemblance he bore to his father didn't escape her—almost identical, a reflection of shared lineage, it reminded her of the first time she met Viktor.

The night was draped in an inky blackness as Thorne Blackwell and his traveling companion, Aria, drew near Blackwood. They were at a town called Ainsborough.The journey, etched with shadows of the past, led them to a rustic inn where weary travelers sought refuge from the night's mysteries. Thorne, a silhouette of persistence, wearing a dark cloak, and Aria, a young woman with piercing blue eyes, raven-black hair worn in a practical braid, falls just past her shoulders, framing her sharp jawline and strong cheekbones, wearing a red blouse and blue petticoat, and with a spirit unbroken by the cruelty she'd faced.

In the flickering candlelight of the inn, Thorne settled into a worn wooden chair, the lines etched on his face telling stories of the many towns he had scoured in search of the elusive Lupus Dei. Aria, a presence filled with gratitude for the life he had spared, sat across from him.

Thorne's gaze drifted toward the dimly lit room, the clamor of voices and clinking glasses serving as the backdrop to his relentless pursuit. Aria sensed the weariness that clung to him like a shadow.

"Master," Aria began, her voice a gentle reminder of their shared quest, "there's still one more town to visit. The Lupus Dei might be there."

Thorne's eyes, dark pools reflecting both determination and fatigue, met hers. "Aria, I've been chasing this prophecy for fifteen years, alone, because Elara told me to keep it a secret. But despite my best efforts The Lupus Dei remains elusive, a phantom in the night. Perhaps it's time to reconsider."

Aria, undeterred by the weight of his words, leaned in. "What if it's not a man, Master? What if The Lupus Dei is a girl?"

A flicker of discomfort passed over Thorne's face, a cold stare piercing through the air. Aria, attuned to his unspoken disapproval, held his gaze with an unwavering spirit.

"I didn't mean to offend, Master, just a thought," she offered, her words seeking common ground.

Thorne, after a moment of silence, sighed. "It's not a matter of offense, Aria. It's a matter of destiny. The Lupus Dei, as foretold, is a man. That's the prophecy I've dedicated my life to. And if it's a girl I would know"

Aria nodded, acknowledging the weight of Thorne's burden. "There's one more town, Thorne. Let's see what it holds. If we find nothing, then perhaps it's time to rethink our path."

"I fervently hope he hasn't transformed by the time we arrive. Given the tales that swirl around Blackwood, let's just say Werewolves don't find much respite there, and you, my dear, are not exempt from the dangers that linger in those shadows," Thorne gravely cautioned Aria.

As Thorne Blackwell and Aria lingered in the quiet corner of the inn, the anticipation of the final town echoed in the air.

Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy as Celeste and her father, Viktor, ventured deep into the heart of Blackwood Forest. The air crackled with the scent of pine and damp earth. The elusive wolf, a creature of shadows, eluded their pursuit that evening.

"Celeste, stay close," Viktor cautioned, his eyes scanning the darkness. "This wolf is cunning, and we can't afford any missteps."

Celeste nodded, determination in her eyes. Her young heart beat with the thrill of the hunt, and a bit of impatience fueled her eagerness to confront the elusive creature.

As they traversed deeper into the woods, the distant howl of the wolf echoed, teasing them with its proximity. Celeste felt a surge of adrenaline, her senses heightened by the primal dance between predator and prey.

The pair moved cautiously, tracking the wolf's elusive trail. Suddenly, Celeste caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows. Without a second thought, she veered off the path, driven by a mixture of excitement and youthful bravado.

"Celeste, wait!" Viktor called out, but his words were swallowed by the rustling leaves.

As Celeste approached the lurking wolf, it revealed itself, its eyes gleaming in the moonlight. In her hand, Celeste clutched a makeshift cocktail, a concoction of herbs she believed would immobilize the creature.

The wolf, sensing the threat, lunged. Celeste's pulse quickened as it sank its teeth into her arm. Pain flared, but she fought back with a fierce determination. With a swift motion, she brought out a sharp knife and stabbed the wolf in the throat, ending the wolf's threat.

Viktor rushed to his daughter's side, concern etched on his face. "Celeste, are you alright?"

She nodded, the bite marked a painful reminder of the perilous dance with the supernatural. Yet, a glint of pride shone in her eyes.

As Viktor tended to Celeste's wounds, a haunted expression crossed his face. The memories of a similar encounter, decades ago, flooded back. At the age of seventeen, he endured the harrowing sight of his twin sister Hannah, being maimed and killed by a werewolf. The haunting resemblance between Celeste and his deceased sister only intensifies the pain; every feature mirroring his lost sibling, everything except for Celeste's blonde hair, serves as a poignant reminder of the tragic incident.