Alys Ellis unwillingly trudged through the tailend of what must have been the worst snowstorm to hit Veyser, the capital of Freskalran, in months. At least four feet of snow blanketed much of the lands, forcing her to travel in wolf form to reduce the amount of sinkage in the snow.

Ordinarily, nothing could have gotten her out of the cozy warmth of her rocking chair, directly facing the roaring fireplace, but today was no ordinary day. The witches had called for a meeting of the greatest urgency, something they had never done before, and as the werewolf emissary, Alys had not delayed, even if it meant dealing head on with the ever tumultous weather of the werewolf homeworld.

As she hurried along the white covered road, Alys could not help but worry over her daughter, Sara, currently on patrol duty at the city's outer walls. Bad weather always triggered the monsters out of the forests and into werewolf settlements. On Earth, werewolves were feared and revered but on their native Freskalran, they were far from the apex predators in their ecosystem. Creatures far more terrorising roamed much of the lands, forcing wolves to live together in fortified cities. This was what eventually lead to the formation of the clan system, a more organised way to task wolves with safeguarding designated tracks of land.

While a part of her worried over Sara's safety, the other part was bitterly cursing Alys's own brother, Jac, who through treacherous means, had convinced their father to name him the leader of their clan, a role that should have fallen to her. Instead, she was an emissary, a menial title that no one wanted, and now she was stuck between shuttling from Freskalran to Earth, then to Benmontria in Zandlana and back, mostly for unnecessary cups of tea with one Committee member or another.

Alys much preferred solving serious issues in the clan, in particular the ever-dwindling supply of firewood to withstand the worsening winters. Some households in the city were running out long before the worst of winter was over. And with the growing danger of monsters lurking in the woods, firewood was fast becoming an expensive commodity to get. Coal mining was equally difficult for the same reasons, and the pollution it caused was ever more unpleasant.

Jac had done absolutely nothing to solve this, and other pertinent issues, making his sister's blood boil. How she wished there was a way to make him pay for his backstabbing, duplicitous ways!

The olive werewolf continued on her journey past brightly coloured stone buildings, their tufted roofs sloping steeply for easier dispersal of rain and snow. Although tuft had been a necessary alternative due to a lack of wood, it had proven to be an excellent insulator. Where the terrain undulated with low-lying hills, many of the houses there were built almost into the hillside itself, using it as a natural windbreak.

Her journey took her to the portal and into Hiraeth city, and then on to Onirique, before traveling via the portal there to Zandlana. Alys was exhausted by the time she greeted the witches, but the fact that they hurried her into the meeting room without even offering refreshments showed just how urgent matters were. Tugging at the sleeve hem of the ill-fitting dress that had been provided, Alys took an uncomfortable seat at the table, feeling like she was about to burst out of the too-small attire.

There were at least forty witches squeezed around the large meeting table, all of them senior members of the Committee. Not one to dilly dally, Alys got to the point. "You called for me urgently. I am here. Let us skip the pleasantries and get right down to business."

One of the witches, an elder judging from the noticeable streaks of white in his otherwise ginger hair, replied, "As forthright as always, Ambassador Alys. What I am about to tell you has grave consequences to both your kind and mine. We have indisputable information that the vampire crown prince has gained a Talent."

So startled was she that her exhaustion abruptly vanished, Alys questioned, "A witch's Talent? How so?"

"I will not go into details but I will tell you this. By seduction, he convinced one of our own that he loved her. By doing so, he eventually encouraged the child, barely in her twenties, to share her powers with him."

The werewolf was a mix of empathy and disgust. "So it was trickery."

"Yes."

"And what Talent has the prince manifested?"

"Pyrokinesis, the power to control fire with his mind." Another witch spoke up, her voice sounding genuinely afraid, "With this, the Bloodreign royal family has now become much more of a threat to you and I." She rubbed at her temples, "As it is, the vampires are spreading out at a rate far greater than werewolves or witches. They will soon far outnumber us."

Alys brooded over the situation for a while before speaking up, "I take it you wish to somehow curb their gains?"

The ginger-haired witch was the one to reply, "You understand me perfectly. To be frank, Alys, I fear the day–"

Unexpectedly, a messenger burst into the room, abruptly interrupting the discussion. Without pause, the messenger spoke, voice shaky, "My apologies for barging in, but something terrible has happened back on Earth!"

All eyes were glued in the messenger's direction. Someone among the group, Alys was unsure who, curtly admonished, "Well then, hurry up and spit it out!"

"Th- thousands are dead in Onirique!"

For the tick of a second, the room stilled into heavy silence, before the clamouring began, "WHAT?! HOW?!" Chaos broke out as everyone in the room started talking all at once, demanding to know more.

The messenger could only hurriedly explain, "We do not know. It happened spontaneously. People just, they just died instantly, all of them at the same time!"

A chill passed through the werewolf as she realised that barely a couple hours ago she was passing through Onirique to get to Zandlana. Over the growing clamour and hysteria, Alys exchanged looks with the ginger-haired witch.

"This, this cannot be a coincidence," he said, his expression one of paralysed shock.

In return, Alys raised a questioning brow. "Was pyrokinesis the only Talent the vampire prince gained?"

***

Aidan waited as Alys's memories faded to black, his mind sorting through the cascade of information he just gained. From what he could tell, in an unlucky series of events and bad timing, Nina's actions, which brought upon the tragedy at Onirique, were misconstrued as the actions of Lucius. This was the mystery trigger that started it all, signifying the beginning of the Portal Wars, while his own death as Mathias Bloodreign signified its end.

He wasn't ready just yet to be sent back into the past, but the memory stones didn't give him a choice. This time, he was thrown into a scene of panic and chaos at the Camran family home. In a corner huddled little Kella Camran, her eyes wide, lips trembling from the effort of not crying. The place was a mess, bottles of herbs and other unknown potions strewn about the table, the hearth filled with pots, their pungent brews mixing together to form a bitter smell that hung heavily throughout the room. Aidan realised he was back in Nina's memories, the witch currently pouring different liquids from each pot into a bowl.

Seated by the bedside, Merida was struggling to breathe as anxiety overwhelmed her, seeing her semi-conscious sister moaning and thrashing in pain on the bed. Fergus pinned Frida down in a failed attempt to stop her violent movements.

Merida stammered, "It has been days! Why is she still like this?"

Fergus did not raise his eyes away from his wife's sweat-streaked face. "The backlash is strong."

"What backlash?" Nina moved to stand beside Merida, carrying the bowl of liquid brew and a cloth.

"She must have tried to stop the curse from going through, pulling back as much as she could." Fergus finally lifted his eyes to glare at Nina. "Look what you did. Just look at her, suffering because of you."

Nina remained quiet. Frida's suffering was on her, but even more horrifying were the deaths at the farmhouse. The bowl shook in her hands. She killed them. Killed an entire family. There was no turning back from that, no begging for forgiveness because no amount of atonement could bring back the dead.

She squeezed her eyes shut, distraught, the words sounding meaningless even to her own ears, "I am sorry. I never meant for this to happen!"

Fergus grunted disdainfully, "Never meant for this to happen? But you disobeyed Frida's words. You thought only of yourself, and nothing of the consequences when you cursed the vampires. You selfish child!"

"It was you who cursed my people?" A male voice filled with disbelief had the three witches, taken by surprise, whirling towards the wide-open door, where a hooded figure stood.