A Wolf's Howl, A Fairy's Wing

Emma looked at the surroundings in wonder, "Sir was born here?"

Erik smiled at the curiosity in her voice before shrugging. "Not in this town exactly, but somewhere near here."

"I see," Emma mumbled. Then she blushed a little. "I'm actually a little surprised. At some point, I had this weird idea that you and Miss Elora were from some other world or planet."

It wasn't exactly a strange thought. They knew a lot about magic but very little about the current Earth, and Elora was either not human or had gone through some bizarre mutations.

Still, Erik's lips curled up, and he patted Emma's head, "That intuition of yours is truly terrifying." It wasn't time for a big reveal just yet, though. So he continued, "We'll tell you about our past someday."

Meanwhile, Emily had joined them as well. However, she remained silent and avoided looking into Erik's eyes. Ever since Emma had poured her heart out to her big sister, Emily had tried to avoid him as much as possible. And he had let her.

He knew Emily needed some time to figure out her own emotions and desires now that she was no longer controlled by her corruption and had been told in no uncertain terms that Emma didn't want her protection anymore.

Nodding to Emily in greeting, Erik turned towards the town. He began walking over the wooden pier with Emma and Emily in tow while Elora shrunk down and sat on Erik's shoulder.

They were all wearing the outfits they had left London with since they didn't have the time to pack much else back then. Luckily, that simply provided Erik another chance to teach them a lesson in aetherium usage and control by having them clean their clothes with it.

Erik was in his standard black armour, and Elora was in her usual corset and skirt as well, although her's was simply conjured by magic and could be whatever she wanted it to be. Emily still had a black crop top and edgy cargo pants with chains, and lastly, Emma wore her maid outfit.

Kirkenes resembled a frigid ghost town with the remnants of a once-active port now entombed in a layer of snow and ice. Skeletal structures of various offices and warehouses, covered in a white blanket, loomed overhead.

They were marred by signs of destruction, but not only by earthquakes. Several buildings had scorch marks, while others had clearly manmade holes.

Everything appeared in a state of disrepair and abandonment. It seemed apparent that no one had been here in a long time, yet something was strange.

Emily mumbled, more to herself than the rest of the group, "Where are all the bodies?"

While there was snow, it wasn't deep enough to hide anything. After all, despite the temperatures becoming more extreme on Earth, it was still summer, and they were only in a sub-arctic climate, so most of the time, they remained above the freezing point.

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Erik and Elora nodded at her words. Erik answered, "Good question. There's clearly been fighting here, but no bodies.

I guess it's possible the survivors wanted to bury their friends and allies, but why would they remove the bodies of whoever they were fighting with as well? It might make sense if they were going to stay here, but this place seems abandoned.

Speaking of which, where are the survivors? I assume they fought over control of this town, but then why not stay?"

The others remained quiet, and his questions went unanswered, as they had no idea either.

They walked deeper into town, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the light snow. Occasionally, a gust of wind would send loose snow dancing through the air.

The eerie silence was only broken by the occasional creaking of a loose sign or the distant howl of the wind, making Emma and Emily jump up a little. Meanwhile, Erik was a little lost in memories, and Elora looked around from atop Erik's shoulder, frowning as if searching for something.

As they ventured further, the buildings closed in around them. Once-bustling shops and cafes stood frozen in time, their shattered windows telling tales of the chaos that had unfolded here in the past.

A rusty swing creaked in the breeze at a desolate playground, and abandoned vehicles, both large and small, were half-buried in snowbanks, silent witnesses to the town's abrupt abandonment.

They all kept quiet as they felt the weight of the past press down on them. Even Elora looked solemn and alert. Sometimes, her eyes would suddenly dart to a spot and squint before looking away again.

Still lost in memories, Erik noticed a cafe where he, his father, and Edda would eat lunch when they came for supplies. He could see himself laughing and smiling but found the memory bitter.

His father's name was Leifur, and he had always been a kind and peaceful man. In fact, back then, many people would say Erik took after him the most.

His mother, Runa, on the other hand, was bolder and enjoyed challenging Erik in various ways. Perhaps hoping to pull him out of his passivity. Erik knew she loved his father, but clearly, she wanted her son to be a little more energetic and adventurous.

Likely so she could have more in common with him.

Thinking about his mother made Erik smile. While he didn't always get along with her in the past, he loved her like no other because he could always see the overflowing fondness and passion in her eyes.

He realised Runa would immensely enjoy the person he had become. Even if it required her death to do it…

It was his mother who pushed most heavily to continue the training they gave him, despite Erik's disinterest at the time. Leifur would often attempt to talk her down a little, but frankly, Erik's father was a pushover when it came to Runa.

Erik chuckled as he realised he would have likely turned out the same if he hadn't met Elora. She didn't want a pushover for a protector or a husband and partner, so she had spent significant effort in changing him.

Erik didn't mind. He liked who he had become, and he loved Elora.

He was naturally immensely thankful for their training now. He would never have survived the night of Edda's betrayal otherwise. Not to mention that it had made the beginning of his life in Söl much easier.

Looking at that cafe, a specific memory came to him. The fifteen-year-old him was sitting at one of the tables with his father and looked a little glum. This time, Leifur had opted to leave Edda behind and take only Erik.

But that was not the reason Erik was a little down.

Leifur had brought Erik out here because he had once again fought with his mother about the nearly endless training she had made him go through.

Leifur put a hand on Erik's shoulder. "Talk to me, my boy. You know it's never good to leave anything unsaid, especially when it comes to family."

Young Erik sighed with a hint of frustration in his voice, "She's relentless about the training, Dad. Day in and day out, I'm constantly either fighting, learning, or getting my body conditioned somehow.

I love Mom and know she loves me, but I wish she could understand that it's not what I want. What use are these skills anyway? Who are we fighting? The community is perfectly safe and comfortable."

Leifur nodded understandingly, "Your mother has always had a strong will, Erik. She believes in preparing you for a future that might not be as kind as the present. It's her way of showing love, even if it doesn't always feel like it."

"I know, Dad. But I'm just not interested in all that. I just want a normal life, get together with Edda, live in the village peacefully, away from constant drills and training," Erik protested.

Leifur paused, choosing his words carefully. "Son, your mother simply worries about what might happen when we're no longer around. The world can be challenging, and she wants you to be ready for anything."

Erik glanced at his father, frustration evident in his eyes. "I know you two worry about me, but sometimes I feel like I'm being pushed too hard."

Leifur sighed, his gaze drifting to the horizon. "I won't deny that your mother can be a bit brash in her methods, but she sees great things destined for you. You have a strength within you that even I didn't possess at your age. There's a reason she pushes you to your limits."

Erik furrowed his brow, scepticism and curiosity filling his expression, "What great things could I possibly be destined for when there's no way I'll ever even defeat Mom? Uncle Viljar, a werebear, stands no chance in a wrestling match with her, let alone me."

Leifur smiled warmly, "Your mother is… special, my son. You'll learn about that when you're older. Please, just humour her for a little longer, alright?"

Younger Erik sighed and nodded at the same time as Elora pulled the older Erik out of his memories, speaking through their mental connection.

"We're being watched."