Chapter 112
MATRON YARA’S POV
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“What do you think, Maningo?” Yara asked, her smile lingering as the chamber door closed. Sister Veris and the others were gone. Only she and Maningo remained.
“Permission to speak freely, Matron,” he said.
“Go on.”
“They looked like they weren’t convinced,” Maningo replied. “If anything, they seemed angry.”
Yara’s smile widened at that. “It doesn’t matter if they believe me now. Convincing them outright was never the point.” She folded her hands on the table. “The meeting was to plant the seed, that I know Atasha Black’s true background. Once the northern outpost falls, they won’t have the luxury of doubt. They’ll believe whatever I tell them.” This was just the start of her plans.
She leaned back, the corners of her mouth curling again. “And when that time comes, all of this will be mine to shape.”
“Is everything in order?” she asked after a few seconds of silence.
“Yes, Matron. The beasts will sweep across the northern outpost tonight.”
“Good!” Matron Yara got up. “We will proceed to the outpost once the sun is up. Prepare everything.” She would be there to witness this grand event.
“Yes, Matron.”
Matron Yara finally rose from her seat, her robes brushing against the stone floor as she walked out of the chamber. The muffled tolling of the bell carried through the halls, but she ignored it. Fighting was for others, not for her. Strategy, words, and timing, that was her battlefield.
She made her way through the winding corridors until she reached her private study. The door shut behind her with a firm click, and she locked it, sealing herself away from the chaos outside. The space was quiet, lined with shelves of books and scrolls, the scent of parchment and candle wax lingering in the air.
Her steps carried her straight to the bar along the far wall. She poured herself a generous glass of wine, the dark liquid catching the low lamplight. She swirled it once before taking a slow sip, letting the warmth slide down her throat. A long exhale followed, as if the world beyond the stone walls was a distant problem.
Then, without warning, a draft swept through the room. The flames in the sconces wavered, and the pages of an open book on her desk rustled as if caught in a sudden gust. Yara’s eyes narrowed. The door was still shut, locked, yet the wind moved as if the night itself had slipped inside.
Her gaze shifted toward the corner of the room. A shadow lingered there, darker than it should have been, stretching unnaturally against the wall.
But this didn’t startle her. Instead, her lips curved into a slow smile. She raised her glass slightly, as though in greeting.
20:32 Wed, Sep 24
Chapter 112
“You are early,” she said, her voice calm, almost welcoming.
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The shadow shifted, lengthening against the wall. Then came a voice that sounded low and distorted, layered as though two or three people spoke at once.
“For someone so well respected… how can you sit in comfort while your people die at the walls?” the voice asked.
The sound filled every corner of the study, pressing close, but Yara didn’t flinch. She swirled the wine in her glass once, letting the liquid catch the lamplight before answering.
“They are but a small sacrifice for the greater goal,” she said. Her tone was smooth, almost casual. “Their souls will understand. The goddess will understand. This tide, this loss, it is her will.”
She took another sip, savoring the warmth in her throat.
Inside her mind, the thoughts lined up with precision. For centuries, Cassian’s family had held the North in their bloody fists. A cursed line, marked by savagery, no better than the monsters they fought. He couldn’t even tell the difference between enemy and ally, drowning everything in violence and rage. Was this the kind of ruler who could lead the North into survival? Into prosperity?
No. His bloodline was a disease. A remnant of beasts.
She let her smile linger as the voice rippled around her again. They questioned her absence from the walls, her lack of sword in hand, but what did steel matter compared to vision?
In her mind’s eye, she saw it already. The North bent and reshaped, not as a fractured territory under the King’s heel but as something new. Separate and whole. A kingdom cut from the frozen bones of the old world.
Her kingdom.
She would unify it, not through fear and claws, but through order, through faith. The riches of the mines, the trade routes through the passes, the unmatched resilience of the people, all of it gathered under her hand. No longer would the North be treated as the wild frontier, a graveyard for exiles and tyrants. It would become the center. The greatest kingdom the world had seen.
And she would sit at its head.
She pictured the council bowing. The packs swearing allegiance. Soldiers chanting her name. The walls not as lines of desperation but as monuments of strength. All of them serving her. All of them seeing her not as Matron Yara, but as their queen.
Her lips curved, her eyes glinting in the low light.
“Cassian’s time is over,” she thought, the words never leaving her mouth. “The goddess has chosen me. And soon, the North will too.”
She held her glass up, watching the wine circle its rim like blood drawn into order. The predictions had been clear. A woman would come, one strong enough to bind the scattered North together. The others thought it was myth, but she knew it was foresight.
20:32 Wed, Sep 24
Chapter 112
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The signs were all here, aligning with her rise. Soon, she would be the beacon to lead them, the first woman to unify the North. Not through chaos, not through fear, but through vision. She would shape the North into something greater than a fractured land of wolves, something worthy of its strength.
“The corrupted stone will soon swallow the northern outpost,” the voice said. “The northern lord will fall.”
This made the Matron smile. “Yes, the northern lord will fall.” Then, the north will become hers.
20:32 Wed, Sep 24
