The forest screamed around them.
Branches lashed Ryn's face as he crashed through the undergrowth, each gasping breath tasting of pine and blood. Behind them, the hounds' howls had taken on a frenzied edge—closer now, far closer than any natural beast should have been able to follow.
Lira moved like a specter ahead of him, her injured arm somehow not slowing her brutal pace. She'd drawn her remaining knife, its edge glinting in the sporadic moonlight.
"River ahead," she hissed. "Might throw them off."
Ryn's lungs burned. The Heartwind Stone pulsed against his chest in time with his hammering heart, its warmth spreading through him in slow, insistent waves. With each pulse came whispers—not words, but *impulses*.
*Left here. Duck now. That fallen oak is hollow.*
He grabbed Lira's wrist. "This way."
She tried to shake him off. "The river—"
"Trust me!"
Something in his voice made her hesitate. Then the nearest hound bayed—so near its hot breath seemed to prickle Ryn's neck—and she followed.
The oak's hollow was barely large enough to squeeze into, its interior reeking of damp rot and old animal dens. They pressed together in the dark, bodies trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline. Outside, the hounds' snuffling grew louder.
Lira's knife hovered at the ready. Ryn felt her muscles coiling like a spring, prepared to burst forth in a last, desperate attack.
Then the stone *flared*.
**[First Stormcaller Memory Echo: Veil of the Tempest]**
*Ancient concealment technique*
*Duration: 7 minutes*
*Side effect: Temporary blindness in one eye*
The world shifted.
Suddenly Ryn saw *through* the tree—not with his eyes, but with the wind itself. Every rustling leaf, every blade of grass became his sensory organs. The royal hounds circled mere feet away, their sleek forms rippling with unnatural muscle, nostrils flaring as they searched in vain.
One turned its head—and Ryn *recognized* it.
Not just a beast. A construct. Void-twisted flesh merged with Astra enhancements, its eyes the same pulsating violet as Malrik's had been in his final form.
*"Crown and void,"* the First Stormcaller's voice whispered through the storm's connection. *"The alliance runs deeper than I feared."*
The memory that followed wasn't a vision, but a visceral *knowing*:
Centuries ago, when the first High Throne ordered the Stormcaller Purge, they'd lacked the power to enforce it. So they'd made a deal with the very void-worshipers they publicly condemned. The price? A bloodline curse to weaken future Stormcallers.
And now, with the last true Stormcaller nearly extinct...
*"They remake the world in their image,"* the First's voice seethed.
The connection shattered as the stone overheated, its glow dimming to embers. Ryn gasped as his senses snapped back to his battered body.
Outside, the lead hound suddenly stiffened. Its head swiveled toward their hiding place, nostrils flaring.
Lira's grip on her knife tightened.
Then—a whistle. High and clear.
The hounds froze as one, ears pricking. Another whistle, and they wheeled about, sprinting back the way they'd come.
Silence fell.
Lira didn't relax. "Trap?"
Ryn shook his head, though he wasn't certain why he knew. "Something spooked them."
They waited until the moon passed behind clouds before emerging. The forest stood eerily still, not even insects daring to chirp.
Then the wind shifted, carrying a new scent—woodsmoke and something herbal.
A figure stepped from the shadows between two great oaks. Tall, hooded, with a staff that glowed faintly at the tip. When they spoke, their voice was raspy yet warm:
"Took you long enough to duck."
**[The Brewer | Astra Alchemist]**
*Master of forbidden Astra blends*
*Last known keeper of the Stormcaller histories*
*Current occupation: Very wanted man*
Lira's knife didn't waver. "Prove you're not Crown."
The Brewer chuckled and lowered his hood, revealing a face as weathered as old leather, his beard braided with small metal charms. One eye was milky white, the other a startling storm-gray.
"Captain Lira," he said. "Still as trusting as ever, I see." Then to Ryn: "And you, Stormcaller. I've waited twenty years to meet you."
He extended a hand—and in his palm lay another fragment of the Heartwind Stone, pulsing in perfect sync with Ryn's own.