BLOODMOON

Chapter Thirty-Two: Portal of Destiny

As the embers of the funeral pyre dimmed, signaling the conclusion of the somber ceremony, Arvan, along with his pack, Kim and Lydia, gathered near the remnants of the sacred grounds. The air was thick with a shared sense of loss and determination.

Siskwékha, the werelynx with a coat as dark as the night, stepped forward. Her eyes, a reflection of the moon's glow, met Arvan's, and with a respectful nod, she spoke on behalf of those who had witnessed the alliance in action.

"Arvan," she began, her voice resonating with gratitude, "on behalf of all those who call this reservation home, we want to express our deepest thanks. Your pack fought bravely beside us, defending our land and our people. In the face of darkness, your alliance was a beacon of strength."

Wesíseron, the werecougar who bore the scars of the recent battle, joined Siskwékha. His eyes, fierce and determined, conveyed a silent acknowledgment of the unity forged in the crucible of conflict.

"Arvan, your pack's courage did not go unnoticed," Wesíseron added, his voice carrying the weight of gratitude. "We fought as one, and together, we stood against a common foe. Your loyalty to our shared cause will not be forgotten."

Arvan, humbled by their words, nodded in acknowledgment. "We fought as kin, united in purpose," he replied. "The strength we found in each other is a testament to the resilience of this community. We'll continue to stand together against whatever threats may come."

The moment held a profound significance—the werelynx, the werecougar, and the Lycans, bound by a shared commitment to protect their home. As the night settled in, the bonds forged in battle became a foundation upon which they would face the challenges that lay ahead, fortified by the unity that transcended their supernatural differences.

Wískhali, the werecoyote with fur the color of autumn leaves, approached the group with a nod of acknowledgment. "Arvan, your pack's strength was pivotal in turning the tide against the Lupus Daemonium. We owe you our gratitude," he expressed, his voice a mix of appreciation and relief.

Hussain, perceptive as ever, noted the absence of the werefox, Amwaké, and concern furrowed his brow. "Wískhali, where's Amwaké? Is she alright?"

Wískhali's gaze softened, understanding the worry etched on Hussain's face. "She's alive, but unconscious. Her wounds are healing, but it'll take time. The battle took its toll on all of us, and she's resting to regain her strength," he explained, a hint of reassurance in his words.

Hussain, relieved to hear that Amwaké was on the path to recovery, nodded appreciatively. "Let us know if she needs anything. We're here to support each other."

As the group shared these moments of acknowledgment and concern, a sense of camaraderie strengthened among the supernatural beings. The resilience they had shown in battle extended beyond the physical realm, intertwining their fates and forging bonds that would endure the trials yet to come.

Lydia, her gaze filled with urgency, turned to Arvan and his pack. "We need to go to Rome. The Lupus Daemonium are preparing for the  ritual to bring Typhon, and the night of the Bloodmoon is when they plan to unleash it."

Arvan and his pack exchanged glances, a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation settling over them. Before they could deliberate on the next steps, Wískanitón, who had been eavesdropping, approached with a determined expression.

"I know a way to get to Rome," he announced, his voice carrying a sense of conviction. "There's an ancient path, a portal hidden within the sacred lands. It's a route known to my ancestors, a mystical passage that can take us to Rome swiftly."

Arvan, recognizing the significance of Wískanitón's offer, nodded appreciatively. "Lead the way, Wískanitón. If this path can take us to Rome, it might be the key to thwarting the Lupus Daemonium's plans."

As the group prepared to embark on this mystical journey, the weight of the impending confrontation with the Lupus Daemonium and the ritual to bring Typhon loomed over them. With determination etched on their faces, they followed Wískanitón, ready to face whatever challenges awaited them in the ancient path that connected their world to the heart of the Lupus Daemonium's dark intentions.

Wískanitón led Arvan and his pack through the dense woods, reaching a sacred spot adorned with ancient symbols. In the heart of this mystical clearing stood the portal, a shimmering gateway to another realm.

As they prepared to enter, Zaid stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Arvan. "Arvan, I can't thank you enough for your help and for standing with us. But I won't be joining you in Rome," he expressed with a mix of gratitude and regret.

Hussain, curious about Zaid's decision, asked, "Why are you staying behind, Zaid? We could use your strength in this fight."

Zaid smiled, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "My duty lies here. There are others who need protection, and I must ensure our home remains secure. I trust you all to handle what's coming in Rome."

Zaid, a sense of camaraderie evident in his gaze, approached Hussain. "Hussain, my cousin," he spoke in Arabic, his words carrying the weight of their shared experiences. They shared a heartfelt embrace, a silent farewell conveyed in the language of their heritage.

"Hafezak Allah, Zaid," Hussain replied, expressing his gratitude and invoking a traditional blessing. The hug lingered for a moment, a symbol of the bond forged through battles and trials.

With a final farewell, Zaid watched as Arvan and his pack stepped into the pulsating light of the portal, disappearing into the unknown. The weight of their shared destinies lingered in the air as Zaid turned back to guard the sacred lands, his resolve unwavering in the face of the looming threat that awaited them all.

Arvan and his pack, one by one, stepped into the luminous portal, each disappearing into the unknown. As the last one to enter, Sahil turned around, his eyes meeting those of Wískanitón and Zaid. A grateful smile played on his lips.

"Thank you, Wískanitón, for guiding us through this ancient path. And Zaid, for your bravery and sacrifice," Sahil expressed, acknowledging the roles each had played.

Wískanitón nodded in response, his eyes reflecting a shared determination. "May you find success in Rome, Sahil. Our paths may diverge for now, but know that our thoughts are with you."

Zaid added, "Good luck in facing the challenges ahead."

With those words of appreciation exchanged, Sahil turned and walked into the portal, leaving Wískanitón and Zaid standing in the sacred clearing. The pulsating energy of the portal gradually faded, leaving the ancient path once again in silence, its secrets concealed until the next time it was needed.