Torn Between Destinies

Chapter 50: Chapter Fifty

The sky was still dark when I climbed the ridge.

Mist clung to the ground, thick like breath in winter. The trees behind me were silent, waiting. Orrin walked beside me, his robes brushing the wet grass. He didn’t speak much today. Maybe he knew this wasn’t just another training session.

I could feel it.

Something inside me had changed since the last howl. I didn’t know what it was, but it pulsed in my chest—deep, steady, almost heavy. The moon had answered me once. Now it was time to call again.

But it wasn’t just the moon I felt tonight.

It was something else.

Memories maybe.

Or pain.

I stepped into the stone circle and looked up. The moon hovered low in the sky, round and glowing. Clouds moved slow across her face, like fingers brushing silk.

Orrin stopped behind me. "This time," he said, "do not hold back."

I nodded.

My hands trembled a little as I closed my eyes. I let out a slow breath. Then I called the moon’s hum into me. It came faster now—like it was waiting. My bones tingled. My heart beat faster. I raised my head and opened my mouth.

And I howled.

The sound rose, strong and smooth. But as it climbed into the night, something hit me.

Not from outside.

From inside.

A picture flashed in my mind.

My mother, Aira.

Running through the woods.

Her breath heavy, her face soaked with tears. She carried something small in her arms—me. Her feet were bare, bleeding. Behind her, shadows chased. I couldn’t see what they were. Just fear and fire. And the sky above Thornridge cracking open.

The howl broke from my throat.

I gasped, choking on it. My knees hit the ground hard.

Orrin stepped forward. "What do you see?"

"I—" My voice shook. "My mom. When she fled Thornridge. I saw her."

Orrin nodded. "The First Way opened the path. Now it shows you truth."

I shook my head. "It hurts."

He crouched beside me. "The past always hurts. But you must walk through it. You must howl through it. Only then will the mountains answer."

I clenched my hands in the grass, digging into the wet dirt. My breath came in quick gasps. I had called the moon. Now the past was calling me.

I stood again, unsteady. My throat still ached from the broken howl.

But I wasn’t done.

I let the hum return. Slower this time. Softer.

I howled.

And again, visions came.

Not of my mother this time.

Of Nefang.

My father.

He stood alone on a cliff, looking out over Thornridge. His shoulders were slumped. His face was carved with sorrow. In his hand, he held a single silver chain. Aira’s.

He whispered something.

"I gave you a world. You gave me silence."

He turned and walked into the forest, but his steps were slow. Heavy. The way you walk when your heart is broken and there’s no one left to see.

I dropped to a crouch, clutching my chest. Pain burned behind my ribs.

"I didn’t know," I whispered. "I didn’t know how much he hurt."

Tears streamed down my face. The sound I made wasn’t a howl. It was a sob twisted into wind.

Orrin didn’t speak. He just stood still, waiting.

The moonlight touched my shoulders.

I pressed my forehead to the earth, breathing deep.

The hum still called to me.

But now, I knew what I had to do.

Not just call the moon.

I had to answer the past.

I had to call back.

So I stood again. Slower this time. My legs shook.

I looked up at the moon and let the images come. I didn’t fight them. I let the pain pour through.

I saw Darius.

In Silverglen.

Holding our pup.

Alone.

His eyes were wide and full of worry. He rocked the child gently, whispering words I couldn’t hear. The room was dark, lit only by a dying fire. The baby squirmed, looking around, searching—for me. For her mother.

For the one who wasn’t there.

Darius touched her nose with his. A silent promise. But even in his strength, I saw it.

His fear.

He didn’t know if I’d return.

He didn’t know if I’d live.

I screamed.

Not just a howl, but a full cry—raw and torn. It rose from the deepest part of me, from every corner of my soul where love and guilt and hope lived together.

The sound tore into the sky.

And the sky answered.

Wind slammed through the ridge. Trees bent back. The mist flew upward in swirling columns. The silver bowl at Orrin’s feet cracked, spilling water across the stones.

The mountains roared.

A deep, rolling echo shook the earth.

I stumbled, catching myself on my knees. The sound rolled again. Not from my mouth—but from the land.

The Vale.

The cliffs.

The peaks far beyond.

They were howling back.

Orrin stepped close. His eyes glowed.

"You did it," he said. "They heard you."

I tried to speak, but my voice was gone. My throat burned. I had poured everything into that howl—my past, my fears, my love. I had nothing left to give.

But the silence that followed was full.

Alive.

Whole.

The past had answered.

And it hadn’t broken me.

It had made me stronger.

I curled onto the ground, wrapping my arms around myself. For a while, I just lay there, eyes closed, letting the wind blow over me like the breath of the world.

I saw my mother’s face again—not crying now, but smiling.

I saw Nefang, walking the woods, but no longer bent by sorrow.

I saw Darius holding our daughter, and for the first time, he looked up. His eyes widened. He smiled.

He had felt it too.

Somehow, across space and time, he had heard my howl.

I opened my eyes. Orrin stood at the edge of the ridge, his back to me. The wind tugged at his robes.

"The mountains speak to those who speak from truth," he said. "You called with a full heart."

I sat up slowly. "It hurt."

He nodded. "That’s how you know it was real."

I wiped my face. My hands were shaking. My voice was still missing, but I didn’t need it right now.

The mountains had answered.

And I was not alone.

Not anymore.

Orrin turned to face me. "Tomorrow, we begin the Third Way."

I looked at him, tired but ready. "What is it?"

His eyes gleamed. "Blood and memory. Fire and frost. The trial of balance."

I nodded, heart steady.

But for tonight, I let the wind carry me.

Let the past flow through me, and the love I had for every soul who gave me strength.

Mother.

Father.

Mate.

Child.

Me.

I was the howl.

And I would never fall silent again.