Page 36 of Wolf Proclaimed

The idea was beginning to sink in. I could see it in their expressions. A glimmer of hope, of longing for the peace we'd lost. Petra finally spoke, her tone cautious but not dismissive, "It's a lot to consider, Mira. We must think about this... to understand what it would mean."

"I get it," I said, relief washing over me that they hadn't immediately dismissed my suggestion. "Take the time you need. But remember, this might be our only chance at true peace.

As we sat in silence, I studied each of my sisters, trying to read their expressions. The light from the magical barrier cast strange shadows on their faces, but it wasn't hard to read the skepticism and apprehension in their eyes.

Petra's gaze was stern and calculating, weighing my words. Her eyes flicked to each of us as if trying to gauge the others' reactions. A deep furrow between her brows indicated her discomfort with the proposal. Petra had always been the protector and could not give up control easily, especially when it came to something as personal as our memories.

Artemis was lost in thought. I could practically see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to reason out the pros and cons of my proposal. Her lips were pressed in a thin line, her arms crossed defensively over her chest. She was wary, unsure, and she had reservations about this.

Jezebel was openly skeptical. Her crimson lips were turned down in a scowl, her eyes ablaze with uncertainty, and... was that fear? Yes, it was fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of losing parts of herself, even if those parts were filled with anger and resentment.

Then there was Syriah, the gentlest among us. She looked at me unreadily, her usually expressive eyes clouded with concern. She was the peacekeeper who always tried to understand and empathize. But even she, I could tell, was struggling with the enormity of my proposition.

"I just need to be clear about this, Mira," Petra finally said, breaking the silence that had descended upon us. "You're asking us to give up our memories, our past... our identities, in a way."

"I'm asking you to let go of the pain and the division," I said quietly. "But yes, it would mean giving up some bad memories so that we can start anew."

"We've fought, yes," Artemis admitted, her voice hoarse. "But those fights, those disagreements... they're a part of us, Mira. They made us who we are today."

"And who are we today, Artemis?" I asked, looking her straight in the eye. "Are we happy with what we've become?"

My words hung in the air, a reminder of the journey we had been through and the bridges we had burned. Maybe I had been too optimistic, too naive to think they'd readily agree. But the seed was planted. Now, I could only wait and hope for it to take root.

I sighed, feeling the weight of my sisters' skepticism. I glanced at Luna and Gretel, still frozen, their expressions a silent testament to the chaos that had transpired. My mind churned, searching for the right words and ways to make them understand. And then, it hit me.

"Think back to when we were children," I started, quiet but firm. "We used to play together, laugh together. There was no division between us, no anger or resentment. We were a family, a team. It's been so long since then. It feels like another life. But those memories, that happiness... it was real. It was us."

I looked at each of my sisters, seeing their faces soften at the memories of our shared childhood. "We were happy once before the war took our father and tore us apart. We can be again. If we let go of the pain of our past, we can create a future free from resentment and fear."

There was silence, and I pressed on, "We've all made mistakes, done things we're not proud of. We've hurt each other in ways that seem impossible to forgive. But if we don't do this and keep clinging to these memories and grudges, we'll never move forward. We'll always be on the brink of another battle."

"And it's not just about us," I continued, my voice thick with emotion. "It's about everyone who has suffered because of our quarrels. Our people, our friends... they deserve better than to live in the shadow of our discord."

I swallowed hard, my gaze unwavering. "Our father... he wouldn't want this for us. He'd want us to be happy, united. He'd want us to be the family we once were. We owe it to him and ourselves to try at least."

I fell silent, letting my words hang in the air, seeping into their consciousness. Slowly, I saw understanding dawn in their eyes, saw the hardened edges of their skepticism soften. And at that moment, I dared to hope that they would agree, that we could all start over together.

I could see the reluctance slowly fade from their eyes, replaced by a cautious glimmer of hope. A soft, almost imperceptible nod from Petra was all I needed to confirm their consent.

With a deep breath, I raised my hands, a sphere of vibrant energy beginning to crackle between them. The power flowed through me, its intensity filling the air around us with palpable tension. The words of the spell flowed from my lips, each resonating with the power I commanded. My heart thrummed inside me as I manipulated the fabric of their memories. It felt like I was tiptoeing on the edge of a precipice, the wind of potential consequences howling around me.

An ear-splitting shout echoed around us as I was about to complete the spell. "Mira, stop!"

I whipped my head around, the suddenness of the shout jarring me out of my concentration. Gretel stood there, her body unfrozen, her eyes wide with fear and determination. The magic sphere flickered, disrupted by my surprise.

"Mother?” I stuttered out, shock coursing through me. The last threads of the spell slipped from my grasp, evaporating into nothingness.

She was free. She was supposed to be frozen, immobilized. But she was free, and she was yelling at me to stop. The serene scene erupted into chaos as my concentration shattered.

Chapter Seventeen

The Illusion of Peace

Mira

The river roared below us as we stood on the outcropping, the rugged beauty of Bastian's territory sprawled out below. But my attention was focused on my sisters, their eyes hard and their lips set in thin lines.

"Enough," I said, breaking the heavy silence between us. "Enough fighting."

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