A sounded like thunder.
My reflection shimmered in the puddle at my feet - eyes flickering between human and gold.
And then... voices.
Footsteps.
The scent of excitement .
They came in laughing, carrying the tools they loved so much iron, needles, flame.
I remember the first breath of them, the moment the air turned heavy
and then nothing but sound.
A growl.
A scream.
The crack of bone.
It wasn't me not the me that spoke, or wept, or dreamed.
It was something deeper.
Something older.
The wolf uncoiled, furious and free.
The rest is fragments; heat, blood, the walls trembling, their shouts dying one by one.
When silence finally returned, it was almost tender.
Then
My reflection shimmered in the puddle at my feet eyes flickering between human and ice blue .
For a heartbeat, I thought I saw him behind me.
The same yellow eyes.
Ashael. My mind yelled as recalling a nostalgic memory
"Every night I call for you, and the wind carries back only my own voice ,hollow, bleeding, and still yours."
The vision faded, but his voice lingered, a whisper through the stone.
No awareness of the time which passed.I woke later on the cold floor, surrounded by ashes and shadow.
The cuffs lay broken beside me.
My hands were clean.
Too clean.
But the air the air the atmosphere reeked of iron and death.
I don't remember what the had happened.
But my mark was glowing again, bright as the moon.
And deep down, I knew.
Whatever I'd awakened ...
it was only just beginning.