The Need To Be Stronger

Mikael closed the door behind him with a soft but resolute click, his tall frame casting a shadow across the modest room. The single candle on the wooden table flickered, its weak light throwing dancing shadows across his face. He stood there for a moment, silent, his arms crossed over his broad chest. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, his posture rigid as though the weight of the evening pressed heavily on him.

Esther sat on the edge of their small bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her knuckles were white, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she stared down at them. Her blonde hair framed her face, still wild from her frantic rush to aid Henrik. She looked up as Mikael moved closer, her sharp blue eyes glistening with unshed tears, though her expression was guarded, her chin tilted with the defiant strength she often carried.

Mikael's eyes met hers, and for a moment, his hard expression softened. But only for a moment. He inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling as though steadying himself. "We almost lost another child today," he said, his voice low, roughened with the strain of unspoken fear. He uncrossed his arms and paced slowly, his heavy boots thudding softly against the wooden floor. "Do you understand that, Esther? Another child."

Esther's gaze faltered, and her lips pressed into a thin line. She looked away, her shoulders slumping slightly, her composure cracking under the weight of his words. "I know," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I didn't feel it with every breath, every beat of my heart, when I saw Henrik lying there—so small, so… so helpless?"

Mikael stopped pacing and turned to her, his dark eyes flashing with a mix of frustration and pain. "And what if Ivar hadn't been there? What if he'd been too late? I could have lost Henrik—and Niklaus too."

Esther flinched, her hands tightening in her lap. The unspoken truth in his words cut deeply, but she didn't respond, her throat too tight to speak.

Mikael ran a hand through his thick brown hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in agitation. "I don't want to lose another of my children, Esther," he said, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. He stopped in front of her, towering over her as he bent slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "I can't lose another one. I won't."

The vulnerability in his tone broke through Esther's defenses, and she reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against his arm. Her touch was light but steady, grounding him. "What are you saying, Mikael?" she asked softly, her voice laced with both fear and curiosity.

He straightened, stepping back as he gathered his thoughts. He began pacing again, his movements slower this time, his head bowed in contemplation. "The wolves… They're faster. Stronger. More ruthless than any of us. Even Ivar, as skilled as he is, was barely enough to stop them." He stopped abruptly and turned to face her, his jaw set, his expression resolute. "We need to be stronger. Faster. Better. We need to become more than human."

Esther blinked, her brows knitting together as she tried to comprehend his words. "More than human?" she echoed, her voice trembling slightly.

Mikael nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Yes. Those beasts, they have the strength to tear us apart. But what if we had that strength? What if we could match them—no, surpass them?" He stepped closer, his voice gaining intensity, his eyes burning with a desperate determination. "We can protect our family, Esther. All of them. But only if we're willing to do what must be done."

Esther's lips parted, her breath hitching as realization dawned on her. She shook her head, her expression shifting from confusion to alarm. "You're talking about using… magic."

"Yes," Mikael said without hesitation. His hands balled into fists at his sides, his knuckles whitening. "You've told me about your power, about the spells you could use. You could make us stronger, give us the power to fight back. To protect our children."

Esther rose to her feet, her movements slow and deliberate as she stared at him, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and resolve. "You're asking me to use magic to change us," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "To tamper with nature itself."

"I'm asking you to do what's necessary," Mikael countered, his tone firm but not unkind. He took her hands in his, his grip strong but gentle. "Esther, think of Henrik, of Niklaus, of all of them. Do you want to live in fear every day, wondering if they'll survive the night? Or do you want to ensure they can defend themselves, that they can stand against anything that threatens them?"

Esther's lower lip trembled, and tears spilled down her cheeks as she looked into his eyes. The weight of his words, the raw desperation in his voice, pierced through her hesitation. She knew he was right—knew that their world was too dangerous, too unforgiving, to leave their children vulnerable.

She swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she replied. "I'll do it. But, Mikael… there will be consequences. Magic always comes at a price."

Mikael's expression softened, and he cupped her face in his calloused hands, his thumbs brushing away her tears. "Then we'll bear that price together," he said quietly. "For our children. For their future."

Esther nodded, her resolve hardening as she leaned into his touch. Together, they stood in the flickering candlelight, their fears and hopes intertwined, preparing to make the fateful decision that would change their family forever.

Later In The Day

Ayana stood at the edge of the dense forest, her slender frame outlined against the twilight sky. The evening air was cool, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth. Her deep brown skin glowed faintly in the soft light, and her dark eyes were sharp with a mixture of apprehension and disappointment. She clutched her staff tightly, the carved wood an extension of her will, grounding her as she prepared for what was to come.

Esther approached her cautiously, her steps hesitant, yet purposeful. The earlier resolve she had shared with Mikael still lingered in her posture, but it was tempered now with uncertainty. Her blonde hair had been hastily tied back, her face pale and drawn, as though she carried the weight of an unspoken burden. Her sharp blue eyes locked onto Ayana's, searching for understanding, for hope.

"Ayana," Esther began softly, her voice carrying both a plea and a tremor of desperation. She stopped a few paces away, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. "I need your help."

Ayana's jaw tightened, and her grip on the staff shifted slightly. "I know why you've come," she said, her tone even but laced with an undercurrent of sadness. "And the answer is no."

Esther flinched, the blunt refusal cutting through her fragile composure. "Ayana, please," she implored, taking a step closer. "You don't understand. Mikael and I—our family—we're out of options. The wolves, they—"

"I understand more than you think," Ayana interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. Her eyes softened for a moment, betraying the depth of her compassion. "You want to protect your children. Any mother would. But the path you're considering, Esther… it's unnatural. It defies the very balance of life."

Esther's hands trembled, and she pressed them to her chest as though to steady herself. Her eyes filled with tears, glistening in the dim light. "Henrik nearly died," she said, her voice breaking. "And Niklaus… If I don't do something, I'll lose them. All of them. Ayana, you have to understand that."

Ayana's gaze didn't waver, though her lips pressed into a thin line. She stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Her movements were measured, deliberate, as though she carried the weight of wisdom beyond her years. "I understand your fear," she said softly, her tone almost maternal. "But there is a price for everything, Esther. Magic comes with consequences, consequences you cannot predict—or control."

Esther's tears spilled over, and she shook her head, her voice rising in desperation. "But this magic can save them! It can make them strong enough to survive!"

"And what of their souls?" Ayana countered, her dark eyes flashing with intensity. "Do you think you can wield such power without it corrupting everything it touches? Your children may survive, but what will they become? What will you become?"

Esther faltered, her breath hitching as the weight of Ayana's words struck her. Her shoulders slumped, and she wrapped her arms around herself, her defenses crumbling. "I can't lose them, Ayana," she whispered. "I can't."

Ayana reached out, placing a gentle hand on Esther's shoulder. Her touch was steady, grounding, but there was no hesitation in her words. "I cannot help you, Esther. Not with this. You must find another way."

Esther pulled back, her expression a mixture of heartbreak and determination. She straightened, her chin lifting slightly, the fire in her eyes rekindling. "If you won't help me, then I'll do it myself," she said, her voice low but resolute. "For my children, I will do whatever it takes."

Ayana's face hardened, her disappointment evident in the slight downturn of her mouth, the crease in her brow. She stepped back, her staff held firmly in both hands. "Then you are on your own," she said quietly. "I pray you understand the gravity of what you're about to do, Esther. And I pray you are ready to face the consequences."

With that, Ayana turned and walked away, her silhouette disappearing into the shadows of the forest. Esther stood there, motionless, her chest rising and falling with the force of her emotions. She clenched her fists at her sides, her resolve solidifying even as tears streamed down her face.

The world around her seemed to hold its breath, the silence pressing in as she turned back toward the village. Her steps were heavy, her heart weighed down by the enormity of the choice she had made. But there was no turning back now. For her children, for her family, she would defy even the natural order itself.