Silence enveloped. Silence covered all sides. Time seemed to stand still in the thick of the night, which was slowly fading away.
Above, in the moments that remained, the full moon still illuminated the earth with its shimmering light. It seemed to keep its promise to stay until morning truly arrived.
The cool night breeze began to die down. The rustling of the leaves it caused slowly stopped. Silence and stillness became more pronounced everywhere, accompanied by the fading scent of emptiness, a sign of the end of all things.
In the fading darkness, Usher lay powerless on the cold ground. He lamented the situation, gazing at the full moon with increasingly melancholy eyes. He was dying with a pain that could not be expressed in words. His wounds were countless and his blood continued to flow, mixing with the blood of the wolves that had died before him.
Usher’s face was pale. His breath grew heavier, panting, and short, tangible evidence of deep pain. At the same time, warmth welled in his eyelids. He cried, tears flowing from the corners of his eyes and then falling, mixing with the blood.
It was not because of the wound. In truth, there would never be a wound capable of causing such excruciating pain. It felt like a black hole was constantly trying to suck him in, leaving Usher devastated by the onslaught of a thousand regrets.
The passing seconds brought Usher to self-judgment. All the mistakes and sins he had committed spun around in his head. Nausea and hatred arose and finally made him surrender. He was ready to die, though he knew for sure that his death would not fix everything.
Usher closed his eyes and the grief spread further in his chest. All memories surfaced, reminding him that death was not something to be feared. For it was the only way he could be reunited with the people who had been by his side all along.
Garth. Cora. Storm. Mountain. And, Jemma.
Usher would not fight fate. He was ready to die. But he realized there was one regret he would carry with him forever, that he could not apologize to Vione.
His eyes closed. Usher whispered in his heart. Forgive me, Vione.
The full moon was gone. The cold of the night was replaced by the warmth of the morning. The sun rose, casting its light on Usher’s motionless body.
Usher had prepared himself for death. He had prepared himself to bear all regrets, and suddenly a hysterical cry was heard calling his name.
“Usher!”
A pair of hands embraced Usher. Then he felt the warmth he had longed for. He opened his eyes and was grateful for the beautiful dream that accompanied him at the end of his life.
“Vione.”
Vione cried. Her tears fell on Usher’s face. Usher froze.
“Vione?”
Vione closed the wound on Usher’s throat. “Please, Usher. Hold on. Please. Hold on for me.”
Usher thought he would hurt Vione for the umpteenth time. He could not grant Vione’s request. He knew the state of his body now, he was dying and only a miracle could heal him.
Usher fought to gather his last strength. He tried to reach for Vione’s face, but he could not. His hands fell back.
“Usher.”
Usher felt a tightness in his chest. His time was truly running out. So, he would not waste this last chance. “Forgive me, Vione.”
Vione shook her head amidst the growing stream of tears. “You will recover, Usher. You’ll be fine,” she whispered, supporting herself. She had to get Usher out of there right away. “You will-”
Vione’s words were cut short when she saw that Usher’s eyes had gone blank. Usher did not move at all. He no longer tried to touch her cheek.
Vione stroked Usher’s cheek. Then she tapped him gently. “Usher?” she asked, her voice shaking. Fear had arrived and began to course through her body. “Usher.” She tapped Usher’s cheek again, but got no response. “Usher. No, you can’t. You can’t leave me. Please, Usher.”
But Usher really did not respond to Vione’s plea at all. He was frozen. He was as stiff as a board. The reality made Vione clutch his body tightly.
“Usher!”
*
Fear gripped Ayla so tightly that it almost took her breath away. Her heart pounded uncomfortably and time passed agonizingly.
Ayla glanced toward the cave entrance for who knew how many times, hoping her ominous premonition was wrong. She kept praying, hoping that her vision was wrong, hoping that nothing bad had happened to the Frostholm Pack.
Around midnight, Ayla had a vision that made her whole-body shake. She fell down and sat on the ground. She tried to calm herself, but Usher’s death came to life in her vision.
Ayla did not stand idly by. She immediately contacted Cora, and whatever had happened, Alpha’s safety was paramount to the pack.
Cora and the others hurried. They left, and one thing Ayla belatedly realized was that Vione had also left while she was not paying attention.
Ayla cursed herself for not watching Vione. She should not have been careless, knowing how much Vione loved Usher. Of course, Vione would do anything to be with Usher, regardless of the dangers that might threaten her life.
“Please, Moon Goddess,” Ayla begged, closing her eyes. She spoke the prayer with great reverence. “Save Alpha Usher. Save the Frostholm Pack.”
Ayla continued to pray, believing it was the only way to calm her fears. Then she realized that for the first time she hoped her vision was wrong. But the more time passed, the more her hope faded. For her visions were never wrong.
Anxiety turned to fear. The wind blew as if it were delivering a message to Ayla from nature itself. Her face grew pale and her heart seemed to stop beating.
Ayla turned. She saw the silent forest with growing uncertainty. Then she heard leaves rustling. She waited, and Vione appeared, carrying Usher’s body.
“Alpha.”
*