A gentle ripple passed through the pond. The lilies swayed, though no wind touched them. For a moment, the entire garden shimmered faintly, as if acknowledging Eleanor’s presence and her solemn prayer.
Eleanor felt a surge of unfamiliar energy entering her body, spreading through every cell with a tingling warmth. It was not overwhelming, but invigorating... as though every fiber of her being had been awakened. She felt energized, cleansed, as if she had just awakened from a long, fulfilling sleep and bathed under sunlight. Her eyes closed instinctively, and she drew in a deep, calming breath, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Sarika stood in complete silence, watching the scene unfold. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly in satisfaction.
"The ancestors have accepted her," she thought with awe. "There’s no mistake... she carries the blood of Elizabeth Raynor."
Just as Sarika reached this conclusion, her eyes widened in disbelief. From the sacred ground around the pond, countless translucent, spectral forms began to rise. Illusory werewolves, aglow with an ancient aura, emerged in silence, their ghostly figures illuminated in the shimmering garden light. One by one, they turned toward Eleanor and shifted into human form... men and women of regal bearing, each etched with timeless strength.
Then, silently, they dropped to one knee in unison, facing Eleanor with reverence.
Sarika’s breath caught in her throat. "This... this is the selection of a king!"
Only two of the spirits remained standing. One was a tall, commanding male figure wearing a illusory crown, Erymanthus Brontes Lychos, the ancient king of the werewolves. Beside him stood a woman of radiant grace and unearthly beauty... Elizabeth Raynor, the ancestor of the Raynor Clan. The two walked past the kneeling specters without hesitation and stood before the oblivious Eleanor.
Eleanor, eyes still closed and mind adrift in the energy flowing through her, remained unaware of the spiritual congregation around her. Even if she had opened her eyes, she would not have seen them... only those attuned to the spirit realm could witness this miracle.
Sarika, as the Priestess of the Werewolves, possessed this rare ability. In the entire Harivamsa Clan, only three others shared some fraction of her attunement.
As Sarika watched, her heart pounding in awe, King Erymanthus and Elizabeth Raynor raised their hands in perfect synchronicity and gently placed them atop Eleanor’s head. Light flowed from their palms in luminous streams.
Moments later, they retracted their hands, and above Eleanor’s head, a shimmering illusory crown appeared. It hovered there, glowing with a subtle brilliance. Then, both spirits stepped back and began to dissolve, their forms fading like mist into the earth. The other ancestral spirits followed, vanishing silently from their kneeling positions into the sacred soil.
Eleanor, standing alone in the center of this majestic rite, felt an unseen pressure descend upon her. It was as if a mountain of invisible force weighed down on her shoulders. Her knees buckled slightly, and her eyes opened in alarm.
She tried to stand her ground, gritting her teeth, willing her body to remain upright. But the pressure was too immense... too ancient and absolute. After a few seconds of resistance, her strength gave out, and she collapsed gently onto the grass.
Sarika snapped out of her stunned silence. She rushed forward and knelt beside Eleanor, placing her hand over the young woman’s heart. After confirming that she was breathing steadily and her pulse was normal, she let out a soft sigh of relief.
Helping Eleanor lay more comfortably on the soft grass, Sarika sat beside her, her mind spinning with questions and revelations.
"She was crowned... by the ancestors. Not just accepted... but crowned."
"That means she carries royal blood... But how? She awakened Elizabeth Raynor’s bloodline, that much is clear. The Raynor Clan must be sure... there’s no way they’d name her their Young Miss otherwise."
"But Elizabeth appeared alongside the king... and participated in the coronation ritual. That has never happened before."
Her brows furrowed in concern.
"Does this mean the Raynor Clan is destined to be the next royal clan? That the ancestor of Lychos Clan has passed the crown to the Raynor Clan?"
"What will become of the Lychos Clan if the ancestral crown has chosen Eleanor?"
A thousand questions flooded her mind, crashing like waves. Her thoughts raced until one chilling possibility made her freeze.
"Could it be...?" She whispered to herself. "Yes. That might be the only explanation."
Without delay, she reached into her storage ring and retrieved a small, delicate jade bottle. She knelt once again beside Eleanor and gently reopened the tiny wound on her finger... the same one Eleanor had used to offer her blood to the ancestors.
Carefully, Sarika collected a few drops of blood into the jade bottle, sealed it tightly, and placed it back into her dimensional storage. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂
Then, with practiced ease, she chanted a soft incantation and placed her palm over the wound. A glow of healing energy mended the cut Instantly, leaving no trace behind.
Sarika stood and raised both hands. With a series of drawn runes, she opened a dimensional door... its edges shimmering with spiritual light. She lifted Eleanor in a gentle princess carry and stepped through the portal.
On the other side, Rashmika, who had been waiting, gasped when she saw Eleanor’s unconscious form. Her eyes widened in worry, but she did not speak, waiting instead for Sarika’s instruction.
Sarika carried Eleanor to the bed in the corner of the room and gently laid her down.
She turned to Rashmika, her tone calm but firm.

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