CHAPTER 226: Enid Drakewood

CHAPTER 226: Enid Drakewood

Year 1801.

A dark wooden carriage advanced slowly along a dirt road, flanked by bare trees and hills covered in mist. It was not a common carriage. Its fittings were fine, the crest carved on the doors revealed lineage and power. Inside traveled a lycan family of noble blood: the Drakewoods.

The father, of upright bearing and severe gaze, watched the road attentively. The mother, elegant even in stillness, held a small embroidered handkerchief between her hands. In front of them was their daughter, Isabella Drakewood, a girl of no more than ten years old, curious and silent.

Suddenly, the carriage stopped.

The coachman pulled the reins abruptly.

—My lord… —he said in a tense voice—. There's something on the road.

The father leaned his head out and what he saw made his expression harden.

A few meters away, beside the road, lay a scene of absolute horror.

Bodies.

Too many.

Hitanos. An entire camp reduced to an unnatural silence. Men, women, children… all murdered. Some with signs of tearing, others with wounds impossible to attribute to common animals. Blood darkened the earth, and the air was charged with a metallic, dense smell.

Isabella brought a hand to her mouth.

—Mom…

The mother was the first to get down from the carriage.

She ignored her husband's warning and advanced among the bodies with slow steps, holding her breath. Her eyes swept over the massacre until something caught her attention.

Among the corpses, a woman lay propped against a broken wheel. Her expression was frozen in a gesture of protection. In her arms, wrapped in blood-stained cloths, was a baby.

Alive.

It did not cry. It did not move. It simply watched.

The Drakewood mother knelt immediately and carefully moved aside the rigid arms of the lifeless woman. As she took the baby in her arms, she felt the warmth of its small body.

—She's alive… —she whispered.

The father descended from the carriage quickly.

—No —he said firmly—. We cannot take her.

She looked at him, without letting go of the creature.

—She's just a baby.

—She's a hitana —he replied—. We don't know what happened here. She could be infected. She could be dangerous. I will not put our family at risk.

The baby raised its gaze slightly.

Blue eyes.

An intense blue, unnatural for someone so small. There was no fear in them. No crying either. Only an unsettling calm, as if it understood more than it should.

Isabella got down from the carriage and approached slowly.

—Father… she doesn't seem bad.

The father clenched his fists.

—Isabella, get back in the carriage.

But the mother was not listening.

She held the baby against her chest and, for the first time, her voice did not tremble.

—Look at her —she said—. There is no darkness in her. No corruption.

—That you don't know —he replied—. Our duty is to the Drakewoods.

She closed her eyes for an instant. When she opened them again, she spoke with a conviction that made even the wind seem to stop.

—Our duty is not only to our name —she said—. It is to the future.

She looked at the baby with tenderness.

—This girl… —she continued, as if speaking more to herself than to the others—. She was born between death and fire, and even so she breathes in silence. She does not cry, she does not fear. That is not weakness.

She gently caressed the little one's cheek.

—This girl is going to achieve great things —she whispered—. I don't know why, but I feel it. Her life will not be simple, nor kind… but it will be important. She will change destinies, break chains, and make those who believe they control the world tremble.

The father observed her for a long while. He saw in his wife's eyes a determination he knew well. The same one that had forged the greatness of his house.

Finally, he exhaled heavily.

—If we take her… there will be no turning back.

The mother nodded.

—There never is, when you choose what is right.

Isabella smiled shyly as she looked at the baby.

The carriage advanced again, creaking along the road while the mist began to close around them. Inside, the silence was thick, broken only by the swaying of the wheels and the baby's calm breathing.

The father was the first to speak.

—Elena… —he said in a grave voice—. You know this will change everything.

The woman raised her gaze. Her name was Elena Drakewood, and in her eyes there was no doubt whatsoever.

—I know, Alaric —she replied—. But there are decisions that are not made with the head, but with the soul.

Alaric Drakewood, lord of the house, rested his elbows on his knees and passed a hand through his incipient beard.

—If this girl turns out to be what I fear… —he murmured—, our family will bear the consequences.

Elena lowered her gaze to the little one, who slept peacefully, oblivious to the weight of those words.

—If she turns out to be what I sense —she answered—, then the world will bear them too.

Isabella, sitting in front of her parents, watched the baby with fascination.

—Mom… —she said softly—. Is she my sister now?

Elena smiled and nodded slowly.

—Yes, Isabella. From today she is.

The girl approached carefully.

—Can I hold her?

Alaric hesitated, but finally nodded.

—Carefully.

Elena placed the baby in Isabella's arms. The little Drakewood tensed at first, afraid of hurting her, but soon noticed how light she was.

—She's so calm… —she whispered—. She doesn't cry.

The baby opened her blue eyes and looked at her fixedly.

Isabella felt a slight chill.

—She's looking at me —she said—. As if she knew me.

Elena watched that scene attentively. Something deep moved inside her, a certainty impossible to explain.

—Alaric —she said then—. We cannot call her what she was called before. Her previous life ended out there.