The next morning dawned slowly, with mist clinging to the ground like a shroud. Arya and Isha awoke to the chill of the highlands creeping through the wooden walls of their cabin. The events of the previous day still lingered in their minds—the haunting words of the old couple, the unnerving truth that the werewolf may not be a monster but a protector, and that something far deeper, far older, was at play.
They dressed warmly and packed a small bag with essentials before stepping outside. The sky was pale, clouds thickening above the jagged peaks. The staff boy, Lakhan, stood beside a wooden bullock cart tied to two sturdy oxen.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, helping them aboard.
Arya nodded. "We need answers."
The cart creaked as it began rolling through the winding, mud-slicked trails that led deeper into the highlands. The village they were headed to was isolated, almost disconnected from the rest of the world—only reachable through rough paths and primitive means. Lakhan explained that it hadn't seen modern transport in decades.
As they journeyed, the silence of the forest grew heavier. Trees stood like ancient sentinels, twisted by snow and time. Somewhere far off, a hawk screamed. Arya sat back, her eyes fixed on the passing scenery.
Isha leaned closer. "Do you really think the old man and woman knew something about the curse?"
"I don't know," Arya whispered. "But I can feel it. There's something about that couple… as if they were waiting for us."
The cart finally reached the remote village. It was a cluster of stone and wood huts surrounded by pine forests and patches of snow. Smoke coiled from chimneys. Children peeked from behind fences, eyes wide.
Lakhan led them to a small guest hut where they could rest. After lunch, they prepared to visit the elderly couple once again.
The home of the old couple stood on the outskirts, near a grove of dying trees. It looked as ancient as the hills themselves. Moss crawled up its sides, and its roof sagged under the weight of time.
As Arya and Isha stepped inside, they were greeted by the faint scent of burning herbs. The room was dimly lit, its interior filled with relics—wooden masks, clay figurines, bundles of dried plants. The couple sat by the hearth. The old man stared at them, a ghost of recognition in his eyes.
"You've returned," he said. "So soon."
Lakhan cleared his throat. "They wanted to speak to you… about the vision."
The old man nodded. "You were sent here for a reason."
"What do you mean?" Arya asked.
The old woman leaned forward, her eyes watery but intense. "You saw him, didn't you? The one with golden eyes."
Arya hesitated. "Yes… I saw him in the forest. I've seen him in dreams too."
"He's no monster," the old man whispered. "He is cursed… but not evil."
The old woman took over. "This village once worshipped him. He protected us. But nature turned cruel. A punishment… for love."
"Love?" Isha asked.
The old man glanced at his wife. "It was love that started it. Forbidden… eternal… and cursed."
A silence followed. Arya swallowed hard. "You said we were sent here. How could you know that?"
"Because we were once part of that story," the old woman said. "And the cycle has begun again."
They didn't explain further. As dusk fell, the conversation ended with a warning: the closer they got to the truth, the more nature would resist.
The next morning, Arya and Isha visited the old village library—a dark, dusty structure filled with manuscripts and scrolls. The librarian, a stooped old man, led them inside with reverence.
They spent hours combing through brittle pages, deciphering old scripts and worn ink. One text stood out. It spoke of a "Half-Blood Guardian"—a creature part man, part wolf, destined to bear the weight of a broken natural order.
Arya read aloud: "He will roam the woods till time forgets his name. Bound by nature, torn by love, he shall protect even those who curse him."
Another passage described a blue moon—an omen of awakening. "When the moon bleeds blue and the wind sings sorrow, the cursed messiah shall find his truth."
Isha glanced at Arya. "Blue moon… didn't that happen in your dream?"
Arya nodded, her heart pounding. "It wasn't just a dream. It's a warning."
They packed several books and returned to the elder couple's home. But the cottage was silent. Smoke no longer rose from its chimney. Inside, they found the couple… lifeless.
The scene was eerie—peaceful, yet disturbing. No signs of violence. Just two old souls who seemed to have passed in sleep. But on the table lay a handwritten note addressed to Arya.
"Destiny has started its play again. Now, nature will take revenge."
Arya clutched the note, trembling. The words echoed in her head like a prophecy.
"We were too late," Isha whispered.
They buried the couple in the grove behind their house, under the gnarled trees. As night approached, Arya insisted they return to the town near the snowy forest. They would leave for the city in the morning, but tonight… they needed rest.
The train ride back was solemn. No one spoke. Their thoughts were filled with unanswered questions, ancient curses, and fading memories that felt both foreign and familiar.
When they reached their cabin, the place looked darker than before. The wind howled with a strange rhythm, almost like a voice.
Arya lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The note from the old couple was in her hand. Isha was asleep on the couch, exhausted.
Then, the howl came.
It echoed through the valley—long, guttural, and ancient. Arya shot up. Isha stirred.
"Did you hear that?" Arya asked.
Isha nodded, eyes wide.
They rushed outside. The sky above the forest was ablaze—not with fire, but with color. The moon hung high, but it wasn't white.
It was blue.
It shimmered like sapphire, bathing the woods in an eerie glow. And in the distance, atop the same ridge where Arya had first seen him, the wolf stood.
Massive. Regal. His eyes glowed gold, piercing the night.
He howled again—and the wind carried it across the valley.
Arya felt something inside her stir—memories buried deep, emotions she couldn't name.
Beside her, Isha whispered, "It's him. He's calling."
Arya took a step forward. The wolf stared back… and then, turned and disappeared into the forest.
To be continued…