Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Txälina
I lay on my bed, gazing at the half-moon shining in the sky. Its light flooded the room, bathing the floor in a bluish-silver glow.
I twisted on the bed. Sleep eluded me. The bell rang, a reminder that it was far past midnight. The events from earlier flooded my mind, replaying words that stung more than a bee's sting. I had peeled the gown from my skin, but the conversation still clung to me like a parasite.
Eventually, I rose to my feet, seized the wineskin, and poured the liquid down my throat. I retreated to my bed and hid beneath the covers. I drowned myself in wine, hoping the dregs of the dinner conversation would dissolve with it. When the last drop touched my tongue, sleep arrived, wrapping me in a world of darkness, a world where there was no pain or suffering.
I dreamed.
In the dream, I found myself standing at the sacred temple, the Temple of Säli, where women are forbidden to tread. The very presence of Säli lingered in the air, yet we were forbidden to speak her name or possess anything tied to her. The punishment was death.
Moonlight streamed through a crevice in the stone ceiling, falling upon the face of a statue, shaped like a woman bathed in reverence. Another statue lay beside her, also kissed by moonlight.
Torches smouldered in sconces along the temple walls, their flames snaking upward. A staircase led to the altars, and I ascended it, gaping at the face of the statues.
She was beautiful. Her hair, black as midnight, framed her warm brown face. She cradled a moonstone pressed to her chest. A wreath of summer flowers nestled on her head.
This was no ordinary woman.
She was Anäsang, the Mother of Werewolves, the female chosen by Säli.
Before the existence of Werewolves, Anäsang had been human. She was benevolent and compassionate, beloved by her village. Säli accosted her with a cup filled with the essence of the moon. She drank it, and months later, her stomach swelled with seven cubs, each gifted with abilities.
They clawed their way out of her womb with such force that it led to her death.
She died so that we might live.
Säli granted her life after death. With every full moon, selected humans participated in the ritual of the moon, transforming into beasts with fangs and claws.
I lowered my head and kissed the moonstone in Anäsang's hands. Then I lifted my head and approached Säli.
Where Anäsang was warmth, Säli was ice. Her skin was pale, her long hair braided into thin plaits. Her eyes were so blue they seemed devoid of pigment, making her terrifying.
I kissed her hands, trembling from her presence.
"Txälina,"
I whipped my head towards the voice, startled to find Anäsang. I stared at her in incredulity.
"Is this real?"
"Säli, goddess of the moon, creator of Werewolves and mankind, led me to you," she intoned.
My eyes widened. Säli led her to me? I wanted to fall to my knees and worship her.
"How long will you resist fate?" Anäsang asked.
I stared at her bewildered.
"It is your destiny—"
"She should have chosen someone else. Not a nineteen year old girl fractured by the pain, struggle, and torment of living in Säli pack as a female."
"Säli sees everything. That is, and that will be, she has seen it. She placed you in Klämy's womb for a purpose."
"Did you know that when you were born rivers vaporized into steams? That the moon bled crimson? That Säli carved your fates into stone with tongues of flame?"
"It wasn't—"
She stepped forward. "Your power transcends that of every Säli female. Your voice alone holds supremacy over all."
"I never asked for this. Nor the pain that comes from being a Säli female. I have long since buried the voice."
"You cannot resist fate. Prophecy cares little for what we want," Anäsang said, eyes turning white. She slowly began to fade, her skin blending with the air.
"She who is born beneath the blood moon will command the world to it's knees. It is her fate to extricate Säli females from their torment. Only when she submit to the voice that calls to her would the female of Säli be liberated."
Then she disappeared.