Chapter 3 The guidance of Blackwood

The haunting howl rolled through Blackwood Forest, rising above the sound of the storm. Beneath the ancient Moon Willow, the tiny infant stirred.

The rain no longer touched her.

Its heavy branches stretched wide above her, shielding the child from the worst of the storm.

Wrapped in her grandfather’s worn cloak, the baby blinked up at the crimson moon peeking through the silver leaves. A soft cry escaped her lips. It was small.

Fragile. Almost lost beneath the wind.

Then… A pair of glowing silver eyes appeared between the trees. Another followed. The bushes rustled. Heavy footsteps pressed against the wet earth. Slow. Measured Watching. From the shadows emerged a wolf. It was enormous.

Its snow-white fur shimmered beneath the crimson moonlight, untouched by the mud or rain. Every step carried quiet authority, and its piercing silver eyes never left the tiny child beneath the tree.

The infant stopped crying.

Instead… She smiled. The wolf halted only a few steps away.

For several long moments, neither moved.

The forest itself seemed unwilling to breathe.

Then the great beast lowered its massive head.

Its nose brushed gently against the baby’s tiny hand.

She reached out instinctively, her little fingers curling into the thick white fur. The wolf did not pull away.

Instead, it closed its eyes. A faint silver glow spread beneath its paws, flowing across the roots of the ancient willow before surrounding the child like a veil of moonlight.

The crescent-shaped birthmark on the baby’s shoulder answered with a soft golden glow.

The wind rose.

The branches above whispered without a breeze.

A voice, gentle as moonlight, drifted through the clearing.“The path before you will not be easy, little one…” The wolf slowly lifted its head. “But your story does not end tonight.”

The silver light faded as quickly as it had appeared.

The wolf curled its massive body around the sleeping infant, shielding her from the cold.

For the first time since she had been abandoned…

Lyra slept peacefully.

Far beyond the clearing…

Another howl shattered the stillness of Blackwood Forest.

Not a cry of hunger.

Not a warning.

But a call.

One powerful enough to awaken someone who had spent a lifetime listening to the voices of the forest.

Absolutely. I know what you mean. You don’t want the typical AI phrases like “silence fell,” “for the first time,” “the room held its breath,” “little did they know,” or excessive dramatic pauses. I’ll keep it flowing like a professionally written web novel.

Morning arrived beneath a sky still hidden behind heavy rain clouds. The storm had weakened, but the roads leading to Ravencrest Palace were soaked with mud. Garrick walked between two royal guards without saying a word. His clothes were still damp from the previous night, and dark circles rested beneath his tired eyes. He hadn’t slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the tiny hand that had wrapped around his finger beneath the Moon Willow.

The palace gates opened as the three men approached. Servants and guards stepped aside, recognizing the old noble at once. Some greeted him with respectful nods, unaware of the burden he carried. The throne room doors swung open.

King Aldric sat upon the throne, surrounded by the royal elders. Queen Selene was absent, resting in her chambers with the newborn prince. Only Seer Maelis remained beside the council, her walking staff resting against the marble floor. Garrick lowered himself onto one knee. “Your Majesty.” King Aldric studied him quietly. “I have known you for many years, Garrick Ashcroft.” “You have,” Garrick answered. “You have served this kingdom faithfully.” “I have.” “And you have never once stood against the Law of the Moon.” Garrick lowered his eyes “I never have.” The king leaned forward. “My captain informed me that you dealt with the Moon’s Chosen before my men arrived.”

“I did.” “Tell this court exactly what happened.” Garrick drew a slow breath. “My daughter gave birth during the Blood Moon.”

His voice remained calm despite the weight behind every word. “When the royal decree reached our village, I knew there was no escape. If the child remained alive, every soul beneath my roof would be executed.” Several elders nodded. Garrick continued.

“So I took the child into Blackwood Forest.” The king listened without interruption. “I could not kill her with my own hands.” A murmur spread across the hall.

“I left her beneath the Moon Willow.” One elder frowned. “You abandoned her?” “I did.” “You expected an infant to survive Blackwood?” “No.” Garrick met the elder’s eyes. “I expected the forest to finish what I could not.” Another elder struck the floor with his staff.

“The Law demanded certainty.” “The Law demanded the child’s death,” another added. “Not hope.” Garrick remained on one knee. “I am an old man. I have fought wars for this kingdom. I have buried my wife. I have watched innocent lives become sacrifices.” His voice finally cracked. “But I could not spill my own granddaughter’s blood.” No one answered immediately.

King Aldric rose from his throne and descended the marble steps. He stopped before Garrick. “You chose your family over your duty.” Garrick slowly shook his head. “No, Your Majesty. I chose both. obeyed the Crown. But I prayed the Moon Goddess would judge the rest.” The king looked at him for a long moment. “You have always been an honorable man.” He turned toward the council. “No child mearnt to die is abandoned in Blackwood.” The elders exchanged glances before nodding their agreement.

King Aldric faced Garrick once more. “You failed to complete the Law with your own hands.” Garrick bowed his head. “I accept whatever judgment you deem fit.” The king’s expression remained unreadable.

“From this day forward, you are stripped of your position as village elder.”

A ripple passed through the court. “You will remain within Ravencrest Palace until the council declares this matter closed.” Garrick closed his eyes briefly.

“So be it.” He lowered his head. Perhaps this was the punishment he deserved—not the loss of his title, but being forced to live far from the daughter he had betrayed.

From where she stood, Seer Maelis watched him carefully. She believed every word he had spoken.

Yet the uneasiness in her heart refused to fade. Something about the night before still troubled her.

A life she should no longer have felt …continued to beat somewhere beyond the palace walls. She tightened her grip around her staff but said nothing

The rain had eased into a light drizzle by the time Rowan finished arranging the last bundle of herbs inside his cottage. His home stood alone at the edge of Blackwood Forest, far from the villages of Ravencrest. Most people avoided the forest, but Rowan had spent nearly half his life studying its plants and treating those brave—or foolish—enough to enter it. He set a kettle over the fire and reached for a wooden cup.

Then… A howl echoed across the forest. Rowan stopped immediately, unknowingly The cup slipped from his fingers and landed on the table with a dull thud. His brows knitted together. “…No.” He walked to the doorway and listened. Another howl followed But this time, it was long and deep It rolled through the trees before fading into the distance. Rowan stepped outside. The forest was strangely awake. Birds burst from the branches despite the rain. The horses tied beside his cottage stomped nervously against the ground. Even the wind seemed to be moving toward a single direction.

Rowan’s expression hardened. “I’ve heard wolves hunt. I’ve heard wolves mourn.” He reached for the lantern hanging beside his door. “But I’ve never heard one… call.” Without another thought, he grabbed his walking staff and hurried into Blackwood. The deeper he went, the quieter everything became. No insects or birds. Only the sound of dripping rainwater and his boots pressing against the soaked earth.

Then… He noticed them. Wolf tracks. Not one. Dozens. Fresh. All leading toward the sacred Moon Willow. Rowan slowed. His grip tightened around the staff. “Wolves don’t gather there…” The trees began to thin. Bright sun filtered through the branches ahead. The enormous silver willow came into view. Rowan stopped. His breath caught.

At the foot of the ancient tree lay a tiny bundle wrapped in a weathered cloak. A baby.

Before he could take another step, a low growl rumbled through the clearing. The sound vibrated through the ground beneath his feet. Rowan slowly lifted his eyes. Standing over the child…

…was the largest white wolf he had ever seen. Its silver eyes locked onto his. Neither of them moved.

Then, without warning… The white wolf took one slow step backward. Then another. Moonlight drifted across its snow-white fur. Before Rowan’s eyes, the enormous beast dissolved into countless silver particles that rose gently into the air. Within seconds…

It was gone. Now Rowan realizes… “That… wasn’t the wolf he thought off, instead something greater than a wolf.” Rowan was left with a baby, not knowing what to do or what the call was for.... he slowly knelt beside the child. “Who abandoned you here?” As he lifted the infant into his arms, the blanket slipped from her shoulder. His eyes widened. A crescent-shaped birthmark glowed faintly against her skin. Rowan’s face drained of color. “…Impossible.” He looked toward the place where the white wolf had disappeared. “Moon Goddess… Who have You entrusted to me?”