Reiner stared at his reflection in the windowpane. He'd been standing there for nearly half an hour, silent, like he was trying to read something in the face staring back at him. His hair was still damp from the shower, his body fresh, his stomach full, but his eyes felt heavy. Not from exhaustion. From knowing exactly what was coming next.
The danger ahead wasn't just swords clashing on a battlefield or the rancid stench of a corpse-filled cave in Narhild. It wasn't some mindless man-eating beast you could slice through with a blade. What waited for him now was far more complicated, and maybe far more lethal.
The Ael'Vurin.
Just saying the name was enough to send chills down most people's spines. Silver wolves, nearly mythical, rarely seen for centuries, yet their stories echoed through every corner of the continent. Unlike other monstrous races driven by raw instinct, the Ael'Vurin kept to themselves,hidden, distant, untouchable.
That's what made them terrifying: the unknown.
