Oregon in the Fall - 11. Chapter Eleven: Whispers

“Soup!” Dave shouted.

Being adorable was his thing. As we stepped inside Maio’s home, nestled within the heart of an ancient tree, I was immediately enveloped by a sense of warmth and comfort. It was almost palpable. Inside, the walls curved organically, as if the tree had made space to welcome us in. I went past the threshold and touched the walls. They were smooth to the touch, a blend of wood and something ethereal that I couldn’t quite identify.

Soft, ambient light filtered through the space, casting a gentle golden glow that seemed to emanate from the tree itself. There were lanterns too and upon closer inspection, they seemed to house tiny fireflies, dancing happily. The furnishings were grown rather than made because, of course, they were. Chairs and tables flowed seamlessly up from the floor, their surfaces smooth and polished, but retaining the natural patterns of the wood. Shelves were carved into the walls. They held an array of curious objects, crystals that pulsed with inner light, ancient tomes bound in what surely wasn’t leather, and delicate, luminescent flowers in small earthen pots.

In the center of the room, a large cauldron hung over a softly glowing hearth. The smell coming from it was enticing, yet foreign. I could make out a rich blend of herbs and spices that made my mouth water. Maio, with a flourish of her hand, lifted the lid, releasing a cloud of steam that carried the scent of the soup she had prepared. It was a hearty broth, but I couldn’t make out any meat in it. Freshly baked bread lay next to it, still steaming.

The soup was served in earthenware bowls, each unique in shape and design, accompanied by wooden spoons that seemed to have been carved by the hands of an artist. As I took my first sip, the flavors exploded on my tongue—it was a blend of the familiar and the exotic, comforting yet thrillingly new. It tasted like a culmination of the forest itself, a distillation of all the life that thrived within Eldarwood. That was the point. This soup was life.

I was soothed by the crackling of the fire, calmed by the subtle creaking of the tree, and enthralled by a distant melody that seemed to be sung by the wind itself. This was a symphony of nature, a song of the earth that resonated deep within my soul.

Maio’s home was more than just a shelter; it was a living part of the forest, a testament to a life lived in harmony with the natural world. It was both homey and otherworldly, a place that seemed to exist at the crossroads of reality and myth. As we sat down to enjoy the meal she had prepared, I felt a sense of belonging, a connection to something ancient and profound. In this hidden sanctuary, the troubles of the outside world seemed distant, like echoes from another life.

“This place makes me question everything,” I said.

Maio nestled herself in on a wide tree stump, covered with some fabric that looked so comfortable. She looked at me and said, “What do you mean?”

“I thought wolves were close to nature, but I now realize how far from the truth that is. We build wooden houses like humans do. We sleep in beds like humans do. That’s it. This… this here is something else.”

She let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, cute little wolf. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I missed you, Maio-na,” Clara said. She was looking at her, her face beaming with joy.

Maio didn’t say anything back. She instead reached out to cup Clara’s face with her hand, gently stroking her cheek. Clara seemed to happily accept the gesture, leaning her head against the palm that so lovingly touched her.

The moment wasn’t awkward to any of us, we simply enjoyed our soup and bread, and the timelessness of this place.

“I’m not sure I even want to leave. Can’t we just stay here and forget everything that happened?” I said.

“Oh, Grey, my little wolf. This place might exist beyond the boundaries of reality that you’re used to. We are linked to the earth, just like you are. But we can’t escape the troubles of the world here. Not completely. Having said that, I’m not surprised you’re here.”

“You’re saying the Solar Haven responded?” Clara said.

“Yes, and that’s why you came, right?” Maio replied.

“Wait, you have a bar here, too?” Dave asked.

Another hearty laugh erupted from Maio. “No, tiny Dave. A long time ago, Clara and I established two nexuses of grounding magic here in Oregon. Your sister decided to build a bar on top of it. She’s eccentric.”

“And this mystical forest magic would not be considered eccentric?” I said.

“You have a point, little wolf.”

“So where’s this Solar Haven?” Mark wanted to know.

“Oh, you’re sitting on top of it, sexy wolf. In fact, when the Lunar Haven had that big fire some… thirty years ago, the tree you’re sitting in donated wood for Clara to rebuild her… bar.”

“You never liked the fact that I made it a bar. But you have to admit it’s an excellent disguise,” Clara said.

“Yeah. But just not poetic enough for my taste,” Maio responded.

“Wait, you were there for the fire? How?” Dave said, furrowing his brows, looking dumbfounded.

“Honey, we grew up together, and you never wondered? I basically looked the same when you were five, fifteen, pick any age! I always looked older than you.” Clara said.

“How old are you?” he said.

“Roughly… 150 years? Give or take.”

Dave’s mouth dropped so low, he was about to drool onto the floor.

“You look really pretty for 150, Clara,” I said, smiling at her.

“I’m so intrigued, I think you all need to start from the beginning. How did you meet? Why did you meet? Why are you here? Little wolf?” Maio said.

So I thought I’d share everything as best as I could and said, “I come from a werewolf pack here in Oregon called the Belcore Pack. I’ve always known something was wrong though, everything felt off… at all times. Everyone’s scent was tainted, and rotten. On my initiation as the future Alpha, I guess that was six years ago, our pack Shaman told me she had shielded me from a curse that had befallen our pack.

“But then she vanished, and ever since I have tried to make more sense of things, and failed. Mark here was the only one that felt right but…” I looked at Mark, pained. I pressed my lips together and nodded at him, “We were not meant to be. As it turns out, no one knew that our pack Shaman was his mother. And she had instructed him to keep me in the pack at all cost. When I finally decided to run away to… get away, to find a solution elsewhere maybe, he followed me.

“I took a bus just two days ago and arrived at The Lunar Haven. I don’t know why. That’s how we all met. And since then, revelations after revelations kept piling on top of each other. Mark and Dave are brothers, but they were separated at birth. They were born nine months after I was born, which is really odd. And we seem to share some sort of power that none of us can control, or even begin to understand. To be quite frank, I don’t think I can take anymore.”

Maio looked lost in thought, but continued eating her soup. She eventually said, “Well, all of you are powerful. But I don’t think any of you realize the true scope of things.”

I nodded.

She continued, “Which is why you’re here, I guess. Allow me to clarify some things. Nature was knocked off balance. None of you are responsible, but you’re involved. And I’m afraid a tapestry of lies and deceit led you to be here today. With me. I had hoped this day would never come. Mark, Dave… am I right to assume that your mother’s name is Beatrice?”

Mark was taken aback, a shocked expression on his face. No one was eating soup anymore. “Yes. You know my mom?” he said.

“I’m afraid so. And your father,” she paused, momentarily closing her eyes, drawing in a deep breath, and exhaling, “is Theodore?”

He just nodded.

“Then this confirms my worst fears,” Maio said. She carefully placed her bowl and spoon on the table in front of her. Her movements were deliberate, but slow, as if she wanted to draw out what came next as long as possible. She got up, straightened her long and elegant garments, and simply exited.

I didn’t know what to do. First I stared at my soup, then I looked up at Dave. He just shrugged at me, at a loss for words, apparently. I searched Clara’s face for an answer, but she looked confused and also worried. Then I looked at Mark, but of course, he didn’t have an answer for me either.

After what felt like an eternity, I heard shuffling behind us coming from the outside. Maio was returning, but she wasn’t alone. And when I turned around, I saw her with another woman, just slightly older than her—but what does age mean here anyway? They entered. The other woman was about my height, shorter than Maio, and she seemed wiser if that was even possible. Her skin was pale, almost blueish in tone, with long white hair. She was a tiny bit frail, how old was she? She ignored me, but keenly looked at Mark, and Dave, when a smile spread across her face.

It was Maio who first spoke. “Everyone, this is Deia. She’s Beatrice’s mother,” she said. It was this very moment when I dropped my spoon, Mark dropped his jaw, Dave dropped his bowl of soup, and Clara dropped her ability to successfully swallow liquids—an ability she probably acquired some 149 years ago. She started coughing so heavily that I thought she might choke to death. She didn’t. With the fifth violent cough, she spat a piece of potato, or root vegetable, towards Maio. Said piece of vegetable then stuck to Maio’s head.

Maio peeled the piece of food gently from her forehead and put it in her mouth.

Dave looked at the floor where all his soup had spilled. He said, “I’m so sorry.”

With a flick of her hand, the tumbled over bowl stood back upright, and the spilled contents reassembled themselves into the bowl.

“Don’t worry, my dear. These blunt revelations seem to startle people,” Maio said.

The woman named Deia said, “I don’t know how these introductions are supposed to work, but I think I want to hug my grandchildren.”

She went over to Dave, and picked him up. That was the best way to describe it. Any sense of frailty was gone. She hugged him so close, but Dave’s arms dangled at his side. It took a while, but eventually, he leaned into the hug, and hugged her back.

“You smell nice,” Dave said. Deia held him at arm’s length and smiled at him, a smile so big.

She looked over at Mark. Maybe he didn’t want to be picked up the same way because he was standing at this point. She went to him, and hugged him in the same way she did Dave. It lasted for a long time, and when she pulled away and held him at a distance to have a good look at him, she said, “How are you a wolf?”

He just shrugged. Deia then focused on Clara, her expression tinged with what felt like sadness. She pressed her lips together, held her arms open, and said, “Oh Clara, I am so sorry.”

Clara looked confused, but she went into the hug, saying, “But… what for? It’s nice to see you again.”

“I didn’t know your little Dave was my grandson.”

“Fate’s just been a bitch recently.”

That seemed to change Deia’s mood immediately, who just let out an explosive laugh. And she hugged Clara, so much.

Deia turned to me. She said, “You look nice. Grey, is it? How do you play into all this? Vrak tuun varak yuul?”

I had no idea how I understood what she just said, but I responded, “Esk na'vrek. Esk vuna.” I think she asked me how I was able to speak ancient, and I told her I didn’t know, that I just did.

Deia looked at Maio and said, matter-of-factly, “He’s a god.”

“I’m a what now?” I said.

And then came the echoes.

‘Fall! Fall!’, they said. Like… like in my dreams.

“Can you hear that?” I was frantically turning my head, trying to ascertain the direction the voices came from.

“What?” Maio said.

‘NOW FALL!’

“Something’s very wrong. It’s the voices from my dreams,” I said.

“What?” Deia said.

And that’s when everything changed. I was pulled from the spot I was standing in and flew across the room. I looked at Dave instinctively mid-flight, but he wasn’t faring any better. It seemed like all of us were expunged by an unseen force from the middle of the room. Only Deia seemed to resist the force, for a moment. I slammed into the wall behind me, and slid down. I was heavy, as if being pulled down by… I don’t know what. I looked at Deia, who now also crumbled under the force.

“What is this?” Maio said, with fear in her voice. If she was afraid, oh god…

But I only had eyes for Dave. My Dave. Was he ok? “Dave!” I said.

He looked at me, a panicked expression on his face, but his eyes. His eyes. His eyes.

Everyone was down at this point, struggling to stand up again, failing so hard. Groans everywhere, from being suffocated, weighed down. It hurt.

But Dave was slowly standing up. His eyes were black. Like the cosmos. Like the stars in the sky. Endless. So beautiful. Lines of black and gold slowly creeped from his feet upwards, peeling away his clothes. Magnificent. He was struggling, but determined, held out his hands and screamed. A muffled scream, a pained scream, but a loud scream nevertheless. His voice echoed, deeper and higher, all the frequencies.

And then a bubble formed around him, starting at his hands. Round, ethereal, growing. It grew and grew. It looked like an air bubble underwater, except there was no water. Thin lines of black and gold were intermingling with the surface, weaving threads, a tapestry of magic so unknown to me.

When the bubble reached me, touched me, I felt instant relief. The weight that was pushing me down disappeared, and I pulled myself to my feet.

I looked at Dave, who was standing there, like the most powerful and foreign thing I had ever seen. He was heaving, as if strenuously trying to keep the protective bubble alive. For now, it seemed to work.

“We need to act now,” Maio said.

Yeah. That was an understatement.