Yellow Bell

His footsteps echoed as he entered the building. It resonated against the marbled floor and perfectly painted walls.

People wore formal suits, most had tailored tux and petite skirts bowed as he walked past. Some were doing it out of respect, while the majority feared him.

The man walked on, his shoes echoing behind him. He needed to get to the hallway before reaching his office on the second floor by the east wing. 

As he was about to turn to the hallway after passing by the two young receptionists, another man caught up with him. 

The first one halted; his working eye gazed at the second man standing before him. The latter lowered his head, greeting the other. 

“Gael,” the second man spoke. He slowly lifted his head, locking gazes with Gael, one of the elder wolves in their pack. 

“Seiko,” Gael replied, tapping the younger wolf's shoulder. 

“I bring news,” Seiko replied. 

Gael, knowing what he meant, briefly scanned the hallway. One corporate employee walked past, bowing in his direction before disappearing toward the elevator. 

Checking the time on his wristwatch, Gael gestured with his head, pointing in the same direction the employee disappeared to. 

“Come to my office.”

Silently, the two joined the lone employee who tried to escape the ride with Gael. 

The senior wolf glanced at the person, sensing the discomfort his aura was emitting. Catching sight of the cause of such behavior by many, Gael locked gazes with his reflection. 

He used to hide the imperfection that marred his flesh. The long scar stood as a reminder that humans were weak. 

But they were also wise and devious when they wanted. 

Clearing his thoughts, Gael looked away from the haunting expression on his face. 

The elevator dinged, reaching the second floor. 

Without another glance, Gael and Seiko exited the elevator, leaving the third person with them behind. 

The sound of their footsteps echoed in the narrow hallway. The other employees bowed and hurriedly went on their way, avoiding further interaction with Gael.

Once they reached his office, Gael turned sharply to Seiko. The latter tried not to flinch but failed. 

“What do you have for me?” Gael demanded.

“Ninety percent of the pack awaits the naming of the new alpha with great enthusiasm. Despite not having a new Luna by his side, the elders have agreed to name him alpha on the coming full moon.”

Gael pursed his lips, approaching his desk and sitting on the leather chair. He drummed his fingers on the space beside the computer keyboard. 

“This is nothing new. He was always their favorite. What about the ten percent?”

It was Seiko’s turn to purse his lips.

“Ten percent of the pack who opposed him are mostly related to Lily.”

Gael stopped drumming his fingers, raising an apprehensive brow at Seiko. 

“Let that be to my advantage,” he clicked his tongue, smiling ruefully mostly to himself. “No one would ever forget that kind of loss. I reckon, not even Maverick himself.”

–

[Meanwhile, in the house of Salazar the Seer]

The man writhed in his sleep, seeing a vision of a woman in the meadows, laughing and looking carefree. 

He grew restless, the lady’s laughter echoing in his ears. A part of him recognized her.

Her long black hair, pretty face, and eccentric golden eyes looked acutely familiar. But Salazar knew he had never seen such beauty in his life. 

There was something ethereal about the glow that radiated from her. 

A little while later, a man joined the beautiful woman. He put a flower in her ears, pulled her chin to him, and gently kissed her.

Right then, the vision shifted. 

From the romantic couple came riot. There was violence and bloodshed, beasts against beasts ripping off limbs and heads alike. 

Salazar snapped his eyes open. 

His heart was beating hard and fast against his chest. Sweat trickled down his face. 

He could feel more of it from every power of his body, soaking the shirt he had on.

Placing a hand to his heart, the young man closed his eyes and let his vision adjust to the sudden assault of bright light. 

When he reopened them, he squinted at the ray of sunshine peeking from the slit of his tiny bedroom. 

It was more of a dumping place for broken furniture than a room. 

Several broken items surrounded him---a grandfather clock that was missing the long hand, a sofa with broken legs, and the cushion seats were ripped to pieces by the family dog. 

Broken lamp, torn book, and the list could go on. His bed was the only furniture that had remained intact. 

Raising his hand for a stretch, the young man cracked his neck, clearing his thoughts. 

The dream he just had didn’t make any sense. He recognized neither of them, and only one thing was clear: they couldn’t be together.

Scratching the back of his head, Salazar got out of bed. 

“At least,” he yawned, approaching the front door. “That was what the fates seemed to be predicting. Star-crossed lovers? How tragic.”

Salazar slapped his cheek. First, the right one and the left. 

But he could be wrong. 

They could be wrong.

The prediction could be a future event or a thing in the past. It could also be a present occurrence.

Pressing his lips and forming a slight frown in his expression, Salazar pondered on what he saw.

There was no denying that the last part made his skin crawl. The sight would traumatize him for several days before he could forget.

But more importantly, a disturbing analysis hit him.

“There would be chaos and possibly a war if those two souls met or would meet. Or have they already met?”

With a gasp, Salazar hastily opened the disorganized drawer and pulled out a shirt. He changed into a decent one, pulling on his one-day-old jeans before deciding to meet with Daeja, an older seer who might better understand his vision. 

In his wake, upon leaving his bedroom, a yellow bell slowly blossomed from the vase that sat by the opened window.