The next few days were spent overseeing the reconstruction and holding back-to-back meetings in the Obsidian Hall. Lorian and his High Council worked on strategies to handle a civil war if it finally broke out. They also looked at the worst-case scenario- what to do if the Heptagon Accord's consensus goes against theirs.
Theron Valerius, the Lord of Coin, was a man of few words and mostly cared about money. But he raised one vital point during a strategy session. He pointed out that Rylan Fartom had studied at the Grand Academy of Solara, and there was a strong chance he had been lured over to the enemy's side while he was there. Theron warned everyone to be extra careful in Solara, as, in the worst-case scenario, the entire city might be crawling with enemies. He urged Lorian to tighten his security while away.
The day to leave for Solara was fast approaching. A few days later, a letter arrived from Valoria. It carried Lady Justice Serana Stormhold's orders for her daughter to attend the meeting as her representative to protect Valoria's interests. Along with the letter, six elite paladins arrived in Veridia to escort the princess, showing Valoria's sovereignty, individuality and might to the world as Selena prepared to travel alongside Lorian.
Everything was set, but one issue still bothered Lorian- Fawnia Gabon. Still, there was no word from Shaira Nightclaw. She had been locked in a deep ritual with Fawnia for days, and Lorian knew better than to disturb them.
Amidst all the planning, the day of departure arrived. It was decided the Veridian and Valorian group would set out the next morning. To everyone's surprise, Kaelen Strong and Zara Sunstreak- two of Lorian's most trusted fighters- were not included in the travel party. Even stranger, neither of them seemed upset about it. Only a few people knew they had been given an equally important secret mission- protecting Fawnia and Shaira.
That afternoon, while Lorian was talking with Anya Vesper, Jax appeared at the door. He didn't say a word, just gave a sharp nod and stood still. Lorian knew the sign. Shaira was finally ready. He wasted no time and left to meet the beastman matriarch.
Fawnia greeted him at the door. She looked much older than when he last saw her. It wasn't the kind of age that comes from pain or hard times, but the quiet depth that comes from wisdom. A sense of deep peace hung around her, making her feel more like an ancient spirit than a young girl. She bowed low.
"I bow, Oh Great Fang, whose claws guard this kingdom," Fawnia said softly, "I follow your hunt, as our tribe follows the moon."
Lorian realized Shaira's habits and mannerism were rubbing off on her. Smiling, he reached out and patted her red hair, bringing a warm flush to her pale cheeks. She led him inside, where Shaira sat quietly.
"Please be comfortable, High Alpha," Shaira smiled, her eyes were warm with motherly affection.
Fawnia stepped back and stood behind her, a happy smile was on her face.
"I hope she isn't giving you trouble," Lorian said.
"Not at all," Shaira replied, taking Fawnia's hand, "She is the daughter I always wanted. I should thank you for bringing her to me. But there is something I need to tell you..."
Lorian felt a heavy knot in his stomach, guessing what she wanted to talk about. He looked at Fawnia with worry, "Should she be here while we talk about this?"
Shaira smiled, though her eyes remained sharp, "Forgive my bluntness, Gold-mane. You speak like a parent, yet you are not even wed." Her expression turned serious, "You humans wrap your cubs in silk and call it mercy, thinking ignorance is a warm blanket against the storm. But milk-fed secrets are a slow poison. You hide the fangs of the world from them because your hearts bleed too soft, believing they are too small to bear the weight of truth. Yet a cub kept in the dark never learns to bite. The harshest truth is a whetstone; it sharpens the spirit, while a lie or a well-intended secret makes it dull enough to break at the first snap of the jaw. If you truly love them, stop hiding the blood on your hands. Give them the blade of truth, and let them learn how to hold it before the storm strips them to the bone."
Lorian stared at her in surprise. He had just been taught a harsh lesson, and he knew she was right.
"Do you know of the Mana-Breathers, High Alpha? Wilders, in the human tongue, I believe," Shaira asked.
Lorian nodded and told her everything Selena had explained to him. Shaira nodded back, "Indeed, you are right, Gold-mane. But let me tell you the whole story."
Shaira stepped closer to Lorian, her gaze drifting into the past, looking at a forgotten history that had long ago faded into myth.
"We look at this world and think humans, elves, and beasts were always here," Shaira began in her low and steady voice, "and in that case,are wrong, Gold-mane. Everything began with the sky and the earth. Dragons, wyrms, and wyverns are the children of the sky. But humans, elves, orcs, dwarves, and beastmen- we are all children of Mother Earth. And the very first born of our mother were the plants."
She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
"The plants made the earth green and covered it with flowers and sweet fruit. But the children of the sky were arrogant. They destroyed our mother's children on a whim, burning entire acres of woods just for sport. To protect themselves, some plants chose to move. They pulled their roots from the soil, and the first treants were born."
Lorian listened in silence, caught by the rhythm of her words.
"Treants were strong enough to fight off the physical fury of dragons," Shaira continued, "but they were too slow. Tearing their roots from the earth slowly drained their strength. So, some treants shrank. They traded raw, crushing size for something greater- the ability to drink the magic floating in the air. That magic made them wise. It stripped away their wild, dull nature and gave them a clear mind. They became the Mana Weilders, whom later, arrogant children mocked and called 'Wilders.' But make me no mistake, Pack Master,- every living thing that uses magic today, even humans, carries a trace of those first Weilders in their blood."
She took a slow breath, her chest was rising and falling beneath her worn leather vest.
"Those Mana Weilders spread across the world, swearing an oath to protect the trees everywhere. Those who spread to the edges of the world became the true ancestors of the wood elves. But other Wilders wandered the central continent and found a strange, ancient rock fallen from the sky- a stone made of pure, hardened magic. They settled around it, hungering for knowledge, hoping to find a way to stop the dragon threat once and for all. Those ones became the ancestors of the high elves."
Shaira's tone shifted, growing darker as she traced the old story downward, "The wood elves who reached the cold northern mountains inspired the stone to give birth to its own protectors, and the dwarves were born. Humans came later, born from the early union of those mountain dwarves and the forest wood elves. They were the wild barbarians, the ancient forefathers of humankind."
She turned her sharp, beastman eyes fully onto Lorian, "But, knowledge brings power, Gold-mane. And power rots the heart. As the races grew, some wood elves learned the art of changing their shape. Most gave in to dark, beastly instincts, losing their minds to the wild until they were nothing more than beasts. Yet, a few of those beasts remembered their noble blood and fought their way back toward reason, giving rise to the beastmen clans."
A low rumble of disgust crossed Shaira's throat, "In the center of the world, the corruption was much worse. Living too close to concentrated magic drove some of the high elves mad with hunger for power. Their skin turned pale with magic poison. They began cutting open and stitching together their own kin, trying to forge the perfect slave-soldier. That is how the orcs were born."
She shook her head slowly, "Their wicked work was soon discovered, and it sparked the first great civil war of this continent. The untainted called themselves High Elves and named their corrupted kin Dark Elves. The High Elves were no match for the dark magic and the brute strength of the orc slaves- until the orcs finally grew sick of the leash and turned their blades on their masters. Caught from within and without, the Dark Elves fell, and their name was wiped from the earth."
Shaira went quiet for a long moment. When she spoke again, her voice dropped to a somber whisper, "While all this blood was being spilled, a few of the original Wilders stayed right where they began- at the mother of all trees, the firstborn of Mother Earth, the World Tree. They could never leave their birthplace. They stayed unchanged, bathing in the living magic of the earth. But as the other children drifted far from the old world tree and lost their gift of drinking magic, they grew bitter. Some went back to find the world tree gone, and they blamed the Wilders for its death. They hunted them down until they were nearly wiped out."
She looked straight into Lorian's eyes, "That is why they are gone, Gold-mane. Creatures across this continent still hunt the remnants of the old blood- some to drain their veins for research, some to burn them in foul rituals, and others for things far worse. The faintest whisper that a Wilder still breathes can turn every greedy eye in the world toward her. And Fawnia," she looked back at the girl, "the poor child is sitting on a pile of dry tinder, and the whole world is holding a match."
Lorian's face turned grim and determined, "As long as I breathe, no harm will come to her! That is my word to you."
"I know, Moon-Crown," Shaira gave a sad smile, "But remember, you are the pack leader. The whole pack depends on you. If you jump into a pit of fire, your whole pack will follow. So you cannot just do as you wish. You are not responsible for only your own life, High-Alpha, but for the entire pack."
"So what do you suggest?" Lorian asked in a sharp tone.
"I will guide her to connect to her roots, so she can unlock her full potential and defend herself. That way, she won't remain a burden to you, but become your strength," Shaira answered.
"As you wish," Lorian nodded and stood up. As he turned to leave, a final thought struck him, "What about the dragons? They haven't been heard of for centuries. Are they extinct?"
"We can only pray that they are, for there are no treants left on earth who could fight them on equal footing," Shaira smiled grimly.
"And what happened to the World Tree?" Lorian asked.
Shaira suddenly dropped to her knees, startling Lorian. "Forgive me, High-Alpha. I am bound by oath never to lie to you, but I am also bound never to reveal anything about the World Tree. I beg you not to put me in this position. Taking my own life would be my only way out, and I cannot die until I teach this girl everything I know!"
Lorian hurried forward and pulled her back to her feet. "Please stand up. I think of you like a mother. Do not embarrass me like that. I will not ask you about it again."
Lorian left her quarters and spent that night with his friends at Grisel's tavern. They drank heavily in the private rooms of the Whispering Door, knowing that the next morning, they would finally leave for Solara.