A Gift from the Goddess

own protection.

Though... | guess there were smore recent events that could work....

“Think... then breathe,” Myra instructed. ” Hold it in your chest and concentrate. Connect.”

Connect. Right. Okay.

Connecting deep inside myself... to the newer emotions surrounding my there....

Something that simply caused my headache to worsen, but | pushed through it.

“...Can | please have the pen?” | asked.

Only... it cout flat.

“Hold it, Rheyna!” Myra instructed sternly.

And she shoved her hand roughly against my chest, almost forcing the air out of my lungs as a crease formed

between her brows. | knew she was just trying to help illicit an emotional response from me.

“You're not concentrating enough.”

| thought about my there, about my connection to Myra. How she felt somewhat like a mother figure,

something I'd never known. A gap in my life being filled without even realising it had been sorely missing.

“...Please... givethe pen,” | repeated, gritting my teeth.

“No,” she replied, and shoved her hand againstonce more, clearly not convinced. “Try harder.”

And so | dug deeper, to the feelings | was suppressing.

To the pain of being abandoned... to the anguish of having to grow up alone....

...To the jealousy over Clarissa, that she had been allowed to grow up with someone who treated her with love

and kindness. To the betrayal that Myra had chosen her over her own blood.

“...Givethe pen.”

Tears were starting to sting at my eyes now, but | did my best to hold on to the emotions, hoping that this was

enough.

And, finally, Myra seemed to hesitate. Only if slightly.

Her body paused, a confusion coming over her... but it still wasn’t enough.

| needed more... | needed to push past the barrier in my head... to grab a hold of the deepest corners of my

mind.

...And | saw flashes of memories as I did so.

Memories that made no sense.

Of blood... of wolves... of a night filled with stars above.

And running.

So much running.

“Givethe pen,” | huffed, unable to stop the tears from flowing now. “Give it to me, Myra.”

Her hand twitched towards me, ever so slowly....

“Givethe pen, Myra!” | yelled.

...And she finally gavewhat I'd asked for.

“Of course,” she said, her voice in a dreamy state. “Whatever you want.”

But I'd dug into something inside that went beyond anything I'd intended to, the memories starting to flash with

more frequency. Just still images that perplexed me, snippets that | couldn't piece together.

But... | could feel it. Feel the emotion instilled within it.

And it was unbearable. All stemming from the memory... one where...

“...Don’t leave me,” | cried. “Promiseyou won't stay behind.”

| wasn’t sure who | was talking to anymore but Myra’s expression changed to one of confusion, the influence

clearly still working but the context of the request unclear.

“What do you mean?” she then asked.

...And | blinked.

At the sound of her question, | blinked and pulled myself out of the memory, my body now shaking

uncontrollably.

Too far. I'd gone too far.

| knew now that there was a barrier there for a reason, things | didn’t want to recall. And as retribution for this

carelessness, the excruciating pulse of the headache only becworse.

| took a moment to breathe and then, slowly, | looked back up towards Myra, finding her still quietly watching me

in a daze.

It had worked. Maybe too well. An accomplishment in itself given how resistant she was to being influenced.

It was uncomfortable to see her like this, to be completely docile and willing to do anything | asked. In the wrong

hands, an ability like this could be used for terrible things.

The kind of uses my father would make quick work of utilising. | knew that adding this to my already fatal skillset

would only make the damage | could create far worse.

A cost maybe too great.

...And, as | took one final look at Myra... | proceeded to clap my hands.

“Oh... what?” she said, coming back to reality. “Did it work?”

She looked around the room, getting her bearings before finally focusing on my face.

“Rheyna? What's wrong? Oh... you're bleeding,” she said, and began to fuss overwith a tissue, dabbing it

against my nose.

I didn’t move as she worked, instead choosing to further calm myself down.

“Don’t try to force it so much,” she scolded. “You'll learn how to use it eventually. It takes practice. These things

aren't overnight.”

She didn’t seem to have any memory of what had just happened, much to my relief, but it still didn’t make me

feel better overall.

It was clear that this had more potential for harm than | ever realised.

“...I don’t think I'll be training this anymore,” | announced. “I appreciate your help though.”

She looked instantly taken aback, her hand freezing. “What? Why? Rheyna-.”

“Raven,” | said quietly. “I go by Raven these days. It’s... fitting.”

| expected her to ask more about it but, instead, her expression becconfused before slowly spreading into a

small smile.

“With all the beauty from your Sullivan mother and the Knight eyes of your father,” she said. “I'm almost sad

that you don’t take afterat all, but... it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Just like that nicknof yours.”

“Myra...?”

“Your maternal great-great-grandmother sat upon the original Council as well,” she continued. “She hailed from

the Hidden

Moon pack, situated in the east. By far one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen.

And, just like the rest of us, the people forcefully assigned her a nicknupon joining....”

She then stood up and retrieved a book from the bookcase, bringing it over to showa picture inside. It

contained the four faces I recalled from the painting in Ashwood, Myra’s unchanged one included, but also two

other individuals that were new.

...0ne of which looked a lot like... me.

“The Silver Saintess, The Handler...,” Myra said pointing them all out. “The Siren... The Angel of Death.” Myra

had sighed before saying her own, clearly unhappy with it. ” And then The Spider, who was Elder Luke Hastings...

and The Raven.”

“...The Raven?”

“Iris Sullivan,” she said. “With pitch-black hair as dark as a raven’s wing and all the intelligence to match it. Your

great-great- grandmother. She was a vital person in the establishment of the Silver Mist but, after her father

passed, she did eventually return hto lead as Alpha there.”

| stared at her picture, the resemblance unquestionable.

“...Did Iris hurt people?” | asked cautiously. ”

A raven is... it’s a symbol of death.”

But Myra simply placed a hand on my shoulder, makinglook up.

“A raven is a symbol of change. After all, that is all death is anyway. It is the end of one thing... and the

beginning of something new, something better. A rebirth. Iris lived her life completely devoted to seeing the

revolution of our kind. The death of the old regime.”

A symbol of... change?

This was my first thearing this interpretation. I'd always associated it with the worst qualities of myself,

using the nas both a justification and a reminder of who | was.

“Don’t fear yourself... and don’t allow people to label you,” she said. “You are exactly whoever you say you are.

No one else has the power to tell you otherwise.”

| wanted to reciprocate her smile, but it cout more like a twitch of my lip, my heart not really in it.

“We continue tomorrow,” Myra said, noticing my exhaustion. “Rest for now.”

And | was grateful for the reprieve.

After she left, | continued to stare at the photo of the council, questions continuing to swirl.

Questions like... did my mother also look like Iris then? Were there photos of her and my father somewhere in

this ghost town?

And then another thought crept in, one | hadn't considered yet...

...Did this mean my mother’s family was still alive? Hailing from the Hidden Moon?

...Or were they also destroyed due to their alliance?

It was a lot of information and entirely too much to process for now. Perhaps something for another day.

...And, slowly, | closed the book.

It was very late when | awoke once more.

Just like the night prior, it was completely dark outside, the world feeling still as I laid in the strange bed.

| tossed and turned for stime, agitated, but | couldn't seem to shake the feeling of discomfort. Something

that ultimately ledto decide on getting sfresh air to soothe my tension.

...And | headed out the bedroom door once more.

However, unlike the day before, there did seem to be one key difference on this evening.

...It wasn’t so quiet.

“Rheyna... Rheyna...,” someone called out, over and over again.

The voice was coming from down the hall, approximately in the direction | remembered Clarissa’s room to be.

Was she calling for me...?

| approached slowly, following the sound all the way until I found myself outside her door. And it was here that |

opened it.... finding her inside.

“Clarissa?” | asked hesitantly. “Was that you yelling my name?”

She heaved herself up and coughed a few times. “Where the hell have you been?” she snapped. “I was waiting

for you all of last night.”

“I'm sorry...? Did you ask Myra to seeor something...? | wasn’t told.”

But her eyes simply narrowed at me, her frown deepening. “What? No... we...."”

And then something seemed to hit her, a realisation spreading across her face.

“Wait... you really don’t remember me... do you?”

| tried to recall back to my childhood but unfortunately cup blank. | truly didn’t have any idea who she was.

“Ah... no... I'm sorry,” | said. “My memories are a bit faded. | don’t remember much from when | used to live

here. Were we friends?”

Though this seemed to be the wrong thing to say, her face somehow looking even paler than before as her eyes

turned to the ground.

“So... if she doesn't...,” she mumbled almost inaudibly, talking to herself. “Then....”

And her gaze then snapped back up to mine, now wide with panic.

“The guard!” she abruptly blurted out, makingflinch. “The guard who stopped you at the Silent Forest's gate.

Was it a man with blonde hair or brown? What method did you use so he'd let you in?”

“W-what? What are you talking about?” | stuttered, taking a step back. “How do you

“FUCKING TELL ME, RHEYNA,” she screamed, an urgency in her voice unlike anything I'd heard before. “DID YOU

PERSUADE HIM OR-.”

But her sentence was cut short.

Because in the eerie silence of the destroyed town, a place where not even a mouse dared to squeak... it was

then that the sound of inhabitants loudly filled the air.

...The call of wolves howling in the distance. And it didn’t sound so friendly.