CHAPTER FOUR: The Howl in the Fire
The flames on the horizon crept closer, licking the dark sky like the tongues of ancient demons. Kael stood at the window, eyes narrowed, muscles tight.
He had seen those flames before.
He had breathed them.
Back when Hollowdeep had turned to ash.
Riven stirred behind him, sensing the tension.
"Is it them?" she whispered.
Kael didn't look back. "Yes. And they're not coming to talk."
Fynn sat up sharply from his bed of bundled cloth and dry moss. "Who?"
Kael turned. His voice was grim. "Ravagers. Enforcers from the High Council. They don't ask questions. They don't leave survivors."
Fynn's face drained of color. "Then we have to run."
"No," Kael said firmly. "Running won't work. They track by blood. They'll hunt you to the ends of the mountain."
"But—" Riven began.
"We fight," Kael said.
The old outpost had few weapons. Two short blades. A broken crossbow. A half-bent spear. No armor. No traps.
But Kael knew something the Ravagers didn't.
He knew these lands.
And they had him.
"Stay here," he told them. "Don't make a sound. If I don't come back—"
"You'll come back," Riven said, her voice barely audible. "You always do."
Kael didn't answer. He slid the dagger into his boot, slung the broken blade over his back, and vanished into the trees.
---
The forest outside was thick with ash-fog and smoke. The fire hadn't reached them yet, but the scent was strong, burning his nostrils. Every crunch of snow underfoot sounded too loud.
Kael crept low, navigating through shadow and root.
He spotted the first Ravager at the ridge.
A tall figure in blackened armor, his eyes glowing gold behind a wolf-shaped mask.
He was alone—but Kael knew better. Ravagers never came alone.
Three more, he guessed. Flank left. One behind.
He stepped silently toward a fallen log, then dropped behind it.
The Ravager moved forward, sniffing the air.
"Come out, Kael," the voice growled, low and raspy. "The High Council offers mercy—if you crawl."
Kael's lip curled.
Mercy.
They used that word like a blade.
Without warning, he lunged from the log, tackling the Ravager to the ground. His blade met armor. Sparks flew. The Ravager howled and struck back hard, flinging Kael through the snow.
He rolled, gasped, ducked as another Ravager appeared behind him, swinging a curved axe.
Kael dodged left, then rammed his elbow into the Ravager's throat.
A gurgle. A fall.
But the first one was back up.
And now the third stepped from the trees, holding something in his hand—
A torch.
No, not a torch.
A wolf pelt.
Kael froze.
His eyes locked on it.
That fur—white and streaked with silver. That scar above the eye.
No.
"Elira…" he whispered.
The Ravager smirked. "You recognize her, don't you?"
Kael charged with a roar, blade flashing in the dark. The fury in him surged, overtook reason. Steel clashed. Sparks danced. Blood flew.
But Kael was bleeding too.
A gash along his side. A cut near his eye.
His breathing grew ragged.
And still—he fought.
For her.
For Riven.
For every name buried in ash and bone.
---
Back at the outpost, Riven paced.
The silence outside was unbearable. Fynn watched her, wide-eyed.
"We shouldn't have let him go alone," she muttered.
"What could we have done?" Fynn asked.
"I don't know. But if they find us…"
She paused.
Then clenched her fists.
"I'm not going to be a number again."
She closed her eyes.
Tried to remember.
Not her time in the cage.
But before.
A soft voice. A hand through her hair. Laughter in the trees.
A name—
"Maeli."
She whispered it aloud.
Fynn tilted his head. "What?"
"My mother's name," Riven said slowly. "I think… I think I remember."
Fynn stepped beside her. "Do you think Kael's okay?"
"I don't know," she said. "But I think he's fighting for more than just us."
She walked to the doorway.
And for the first time—
She howled.
It was broken.
Uneven.
But it was hers.
And it carried through the forest.
---
Kael heard it.
That sound.
A howl not of fear—but defiance.
He grinned through bloodied teeth.
His blade slid between the second Ravager's ribs.
The third backed off.
"You've changed, Kael," he spat. "You're no longer the broken wolf we hunted."
Kael stood over the bodies of the others.
"I was never broken," he said. "Just waiting."
He sheathed his blade. The pelt still burned in his memory.
He would mourn later.
Right now—he needed answers.
He dragged the third Ravager by the collar back to the outpost.
---
When Kael returned, Riven and Fynn rushed to meet him.
He dropped the body on the stone floor.
One eye bruised shut. Blood at the lip. Breathing shallow.
Kael crouched. "Talk."
The Ravager grinned despite the pain.
"You're too late."
Kael's eyes narrowed.
"Too late for what?"
"They've opened the first seal."
A pause.
Riven stepped closer. "Seal?"
"The Hollowdeep… wasn't just your sanctuary," the Ravager coughed. "It was a lock. One of three. The Council wants what's beneath it."
Kael froze.
"No one can open that," he said. "The gate's curse—"
"Is failing," the Ravager croaked. "Because of her."
He looked at Riven.
"She was made for the gate. Engineered from your bloodline. Your mate's blood. The child who never drew breath."
Kael went still.
Riven took a step back.
"What is he talking about?"
The Ravager smiled.
"You think she's just a rescued girl? You think they gave her a number because she was random?"
Kael's heart dropped.
"No…"
"She is the key."
Riven stared at Kael, shaking.
"Tell me it's not true…"
"I didn't know," Kael said, voice tight with disbelief. "I swear to the Moon. I didn't—"
But Riven was already backing toward the door, eyes wide, breath shaky.
She turned—and ran.
---