POV – Olivia
Las noches eran diferentes cuando el Árbol de Hypnos susurraba más fuerte.
En esas ocasiones, el aire se volvía más denso, casi como si cada brizna de niebla cargara con el peso de los recuerdos. Leyla solía decir que era cuando el pasado buscaba ser escuchado. Y esa noche, nos reunió a todos alrededor del fuego. ¿
Por qué reunirnos? Simple, por fin tenía mi propia cabaña, aunque algo pequeña, era lo suficientemente espaciosa para los dos.
Fortz, como siempre, afilaba en silencio los dientes metálicos de una trampa de pesca. Emilia estaba sentada en el suelo, con las piernas cruzadas y los ojos bien abiertos, lista para devorar cada palabra.
Luahn, de apenas tres años, yacía en mi regazo, apoyado en mi pecho, con la mirada tranquila y curiosa de quien entiende más de lo que debería para su edad.
"¿Van a ser cuentos otra vez?", preguntó Emilia, ya anticipando la historia.
Leyla sonrió, sin dejar de remover las hierbas en la tetera. El vapor tenía un aroma profundo, entre musgo y raíces secas.
"Esta vez no. Hoy no serán historias. Hoy serán recuerdos".
"¿Recuerdos de quién?", intervino Luahn, sin moverse de su cálido rincón.
"Del mundo, pequeña", respondió.
"Recuerdos de la tierra, del cielo... y de sangre".
El fuego crepitó en ese momento, como si reconociera el peso de lo que estaba a punto de decirse.
"Hace mucho tiempo", comenzó Leyla.
"Cuando nuestros antepasados aún creían que el mundo era suyo y que su inteligencia y poder los harían eternos... algo ocurrió que lo cambió todo".
Emilia se inclinó hacia delante. Fortz dejó de trabajar.
"Los demonios llegaron.
No como pesadillas, no como sombras.
Vinieron de carne y hueso. Legiones enteras descendieron del cielo, oscuras como el abismo, lideradas por su rey: el Rey Demonio Peimon. Su presencia ennegreció el sol. Las ciudades ardieron. Las montañas se abrieron. Y la humanidad... fue arrastrada al borde de la extinción".
Luahn tragó saliva con dificultad.
"¿Murió todo el mundo?"
"Casi", respondió Leyla, sin adornos.
Hizo una pausa y sacó una hoja en forma de medialuna de la bolsa de hierbas.
"Pero el peor castigo no fue la desesperación... Fue la niebla".
Emilia frunció el ceño.
Sentí una opresión en el pecho que no era solo miedo.
"Una niebla rojiza, como sangre viva flotando en el aire. Nadie sabía de dónde venía. No podías luchar contra ella. No podías huir. Cuando te tocaba... tu cuerpo se desmoronaba. Era como si la vida se escapara a través de tu piel. Llamaban a esa niebla 'La Sangre del Juicio'".
El silencio se hizo pesado.
"Entonces", dijo Leyla en voz baja,
"cuando todo parecía perdido... ella apareció".
Mi corazón se aceleró. Sabía quién aparecería en esa parte de la historia.
"Dievas", susurré.
Leyla asintió.
"Nuestra diosa.
No una reina, ni una emperatriz celestial...
Sino un ser que vio nuestro dolor y decidió actuar. Nadie sabe por qué. Quizás por compasión. Quizás por amor a la vida. Lo único claro es que desde el centro del mundo, como brotando de las entrañas de la tierra, creció el Árbol de Hypnos".
El fuego iluminó las paredes de madera mientras hablaba. Cada palabra parecía encender el aire con historia viva.
"Un árbol tan vasto que sus ramas rozaban las nubes. Sus raíces se extendían cientos de kilómetros. Allí, donde la niebla no podía entrar. Donde los demonios no podían pisar. Una burbuja de luz. Un refugio. Un nuevo comienzo". "
¿Y nosotros?", preguntó Luahn.
"¿De dónde venimos?"
"Nacimos con él", dijo Leyla, mirándolo a los ojos.
"Los hombres lobo", añadí, completando la idea.
"No como los de las leyendas. No como los monstruos de los que hablaban los humanos antes del fin del mundo, éramos los guardianes a cargo del árbol Hypnos".
Leyla continuó:
"Una mujer del clan de los lobos fue elegida como puente entre la diosa y nosotros. Ella fue la primera sacerdotisa. Habló con las diosas, y su voz fue escuchada. Nos transmitió las palabras de la diosa: [Este refugio no durará para siempre. Encontrarán una manera de entrar. Y cuando lo hagan, deben luchar.]"
"¿Luchar con qué?", preguntó Emilia tensa.
"Con el poder del Árbol", respondió Leyla.
"Los humanos recibieron energía Yin gracias a la esencia del árbol Hypnos, que despertó sus afinidades: agua, fuego, tierra, viento... Y los lobos recibieron energía Yang, una fuerza diferente, más pura, que solo podía ser canalizada por nuestra raza. Juntos... pudimos resistir".
Luahn levantó la mano.
"¿Y lucharon?"
"Sí", dije en voz baja.
"Muchas veces".
"La primera guerra fue brutal", continuó Leyla.
"El Rey Demonio usó gran parte de su poder para romper la barrera de la pureza. La niebla avanzó. Y los demonios, una vez más, llegaron.
Pero el primer rey humano y la primera sacerdotisa lideraron la batalla junto a las tribus de lobos. Fue una alianza forjada con sangre... pero necesaria. Y juntos, lo derrotaron. Por primera vez". "
¿Murió?", preguntó Emilia.
Leyla shook her head.
"Not forever. A hundred years later, he returned. Stronger. Wiser. His army... had returned along with his generals."
"How could they return?" Luahn insisted, his voice more tremulous than before.
"We still don't know. The only thing that's certain is that he doesn't die completely. And every time he returns, the war is worse. Bloodier. More painful. It has happened dozens of times in four thousand years of history. And we know he will return."
We all fell silent. Even Fortz.
"And when he does..." Leyla said in a grave voice.
"The Tree will shake its leaves again."
*
Luahn was three years old when it happened. It was a clear morning, the sky unclouded above the forest canopy. I was taking him with me to the central square, where children played and adults traded looms, roots, cured meats, and handmade utensils.
That day, Grisel was there.
Small, quiet, with reddish hair braided in a ceremonial style despite her young age. Her eyes were a deep ruby color.
She stood on the sidelines, her hands clasped in front of her chest and her back straight. The pressure on her was evident even at that age: everyone knew who she was.
The new priestess.
Luahn saw her from afar and approached her without hesitation, as if he had known her forever.
"Are you magical?" he asked her, face to face, looking her straight in the eyes.
She blinked, surprised. No one treated her like that.
"I don't know," she replied, lowering her gaze.
"Do you talk to the Goddess?"
Grisel hesitated.
"Sometimes I hear her in my dreams... but I don't know if it's her or just my imagination."
Luahn smiled.
"I dream about someone too. I don't know who it is, they just watch me. But it makes me feel like I'm... more than I seem."
She looked at him more closely then. Something in her manner changed.
"I... don't have any friends," she said quietly.
"Everyone looks at me as if I should do something great. But I just want to play."
Luahn took her hand without asking permission.
"Well, let's play."
And it was that simple. They ran off into the trees, leaving behind the adults who didn't know whether to be scared or smile.
From that day on, she looked for him every time she came to the city center. And when they were together, Grisel stopped being the girl destined to talk to a goddess and became simply a girl with a big smile.
*
The city was talking about Emilia long before the ritual approached.
At just four years old, her mastery of physical combat was impressive. Not because she was strong, but because of her instinct. When she wielded a branch as if it were a spear or a sword, the elders looked at each other. Her way of moving, her balance, her reading of space... these were not learned. They were born with her.
But what truly left them speechless was not her physical ability. It was her relationship with Yang energy.
The Yang energy of the Hypnos Tree, which only those of the wolf race could channel, although it was still far from being properly awakened in the ritual, already flowed in Emilia.
During preliminary training, many instructors thought her body would collapse: that kind of energy is intense, volatile, alive. It is not easily mastered.
But Emilia not only resisted it. She shaped it.
"It's as if she breathes through it," said one of the most experienced trainers, after seeing her summon an energy shield in front of a simulated attack.
I watched her from the shadows. And so did Fortz. His face hardened by something stronger than pride. It was fear. Not fear of what Emilia could do... but of what she would have to face.
One afternoon, while the three of us were fishing, he broke the silence.
"My father had that same look when he went to war," he said suddenly.
He looked at me.
"I didn't want that for her. I wanted her to run through the mud. To learn other things, not how to kill demons.
"You can't avoid what she is," I said softly.
"And you can't stop her from doing it for others either."
The Awakening Ritual would come when she turned five. It was the ceremony where the children of the clan touched the living altar of the Tree for the first time, connecting their spirit with the vital energy of the world.
Everyone awakened abilities. Although the vast majority felt the connection, there was always a scale on which they could accept it. And a few... like Emilia... shone in total form.
The preparations began weeks before. The branches of the Tree were intertwined in impossible ways, opening the passage to the inner chamber. Grisel would be there, as a symbol of the new generation. Luahn would not. It was not yet his time.
But he and I were among the crowd when it happened.
Emilia was the last to be called. She wore a simple, unadorned robe. Her black hair was loose, tied back with only a green ribbon. Fortz did not approach her. He could not.
When she placed her hands on the heart of the Tree, there was complete silence.
And then, a golden light emerged from the bark itself. Not only did Yang energy recognize it, it welcomed it as an extension of itself. Lines of energy formed on its skin. Ancient runes. Circles of flow. And then... flames. Not the kind that burn... but ones that protect.
The Tree sang. A sound it only makes when it recognizes a chosen one.
The crowd applauded. Some wept. The sages of the council whispered prophecies. And Fortz... Fortz turned, bent over the water... and fell to his knees.
Not out of weakness.
But because the weight of history crushed him.
And on that day, we understood that Emilia was not just a child prodigy.
She was one of the flames that would burn when the world grew dark again.