Archibald didn’t know for how long he sobbed, only that he’d let out enough tears to calm the raging emotions that dwelt within.
Taking a mont to gather himself, he raised his head from his mother’s chest to regard her before placing his hands on her shoulders.
"You’re real." He muttered, almost like he couldn’t believe it.
"I am," she responded with a warm smile before teasing. "Disappointed?"
"No, it’s just... if I had known this was what it took to see you again, dying in Twilight, I would have done it centuries ago!"
"Is that why you’ve been so hung up on bringing back our race?"
Archibald paused, his gaze widening slightly before he llowed. "After you were taken, Dad... he lost it. He treated like trash and made miss you more than I should have. I thought that if I brought the werewolves back, I’d finally be able to experience the joy of having a family once again."
Even as she said nothing, it was clear from her saddened expression that she pitied the young lad.
"You have suffered enough, child, it is ti to rest. Don’t reject your humanity any longer, accept it and..."
"No, Mother, I’ve tried, and try as I may; it always ends up the sa. You raised up as a wolf, not as a human. So please, don’t try to convince to stop because... I won’t." Archibald said with so hesitation, though his eyes served as a testant to his resolve.
"I see." She took a step back as she spoke, her gaze filled with a complicated set of emotions.
Fearing the worst, Archibald panicked. "Are you disappointed?"
"... No, I could never be disappointed in you." She said. "Just that... the path you would have to take moving forward... it is a long and arduous path, my child. Are you sure you are willing to walk it?"
"What are you talking about, Mother?... I don’t understand."
Taking a deep breath, she, or rather, Samara intoned. "You are wrong about sothing, child. The reason we managed to et like this isn’t because you died in Twilight."
"Then what?"
"Do you know where this is?" Samara asked as she glanced around with Archibald doing the sa.
Taking a mont to ponder, Archibald soon shook his head. "No, I have no idea. This should be the Afterlife but it’s..."
"Frozen, yes, exactly that. This is the Afterlife, yet the section put aside for our people has been turned into this frozen winter land. It should still be peaceful yet... it appears chaotic."
"What does this an?" Archibald asked as he struggled to understand Samara’s words.
"I an that our people are not just cursed while alive, we remain cursed even after death."
Archibald paused and once again, looked around, only this ti, he could see sothing more than just the snow storm... sothing within it.
Just like in Twilight, even here, those ice statues remained.
"But you..."
"Of course, there are those like who weren’t touched by the curse directly, but even then, we are forced to wander forever. It is a bleak existence in truth. Unable to die, unable to live... unable to rest."
Horrified by the thought, Archibald asked. "How can I make this right?"
"You can’t, or rather, I have no idea." Samara softly remarked.
"Then, I will find a way," Archibald remarked. "I will find a way to bring peace to you all."
"Don’t waste your ti, child, you are ant for sothing more."
"What else could be more important than this?"
"Birthing a new race."
Archibald froze. "... What?"
"There is a way to complete the task you have long struggled to accomplish."
"How?" Archibald asked.
"By becoming a Mystic," Samara remarked.
"... You can’t be serious, right?" Archibald muttered. "Mother, it’s impossible. I’m a human werewolf hybrid, I can’t..."
He trailed off, just as a bulb lit up in his mind.
Catching on to his realization, Samara remarked. "You are not just a wolf, you are human as well. There is the chance of this working, and if you can beco a Mystic, then, with the aid of the 9th Lock of the Monster Wheel, otherwise known as Primogenitor, you can bring about the birth of a new werewolf race."
"But even if I can do this, I can’t reach the 9th Lock. No one has managed to reach the 9th Lock of the Monster Wheel till today. There has to be a reason for that." Archibald argued.
"Then be the one to change things," Samara said. "You are a brilliant boy, I’m sure you can figure it out."
"What if I don’t?... What if I fail?" Archibald asked.
He was scared and rightfully so.
Samara placed a hand on his shoulder. "I believe in you."
Then, there was a gust of wind and so many other restless souls just like Samara appeared.
"We all do."
Archibald stared at Samara and the others, realizing in that mont, the weight on his shoulders.
"I promise." He said as he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "I’ll do my best."
"I’m sure you will."
After saying that, Samara added. "I believe it’s ti for you to be on your way back."
"No, not yet, there’s still a lot to talk about," Archibald remarked, panicked as he was.
"We have spoken enough. Go on, be on your way." Samara smilingly said. "I must say, you awakened quite the nifty Talent. Make sure to use it well."
After saying that, the snowstorm seed to intensify, and soon enough, Samara, along with the other spirits, were obscured by it, leaving Archibald unable to do anything by white.
"No, no!" He yelled out, trying to claw his way back to Samara, but try as he may, he was unable to do anything until, ultimately, he was taken away, at which point, the entire landscape changed.
From a frozen wasteland, it transford into a barren landscape filled with the carcasses of great beasts.
Towering over the land at its center was a great being with four faces.
Letting out a sigh, It waited.
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