The forest changed.
After leaving the Grove behind, the trees no longer seemed merely ancient—they seemed wounded. Their bark bore black scars as if charred by unseen fire, their branches brittle, weeping ash instead of sap. The air reeked faintly of smoke, though no flame burned nearby.
Liora touched one of the trees, frowning. "This isn't natural."
Selene's expression darkened. "It is the Council's doing. They mark their hunting grounds. This… is a warning."
"Hunting grounds?" Edrin asked, unease creeping into his chest.
Selene nodded grimly. "The Grove was your trial of spirit. The Ashen Hunt… will be your trial of survival. They will not test illusions this time. They will test blood."
The silver pulse within him stirred at her words, as if anticipating what lay ahead. His hand instinctively hovered near the hilt of the blade he had carried since his village's fall, though now silver threads coiled faintly along its edge, strengthening the steel.
For the first time, Edrin wondered if the weapon was truly his—or if the Beacon was beginning to claim even that.
---
They pressed forward cautiously. Ash drifted with every step, settling on their shoulders like snow. The silence here was deeper, heavier. No birds sang. No insects hummed. Only the faint crackle of unseen embers haunted the air.
It wasn't long before the first sign appeared.
A carcass.
A stag, its body half-burned, eyes wide with terror, its antlers snapped clean. The ground around it was seared into a black ring, the soil itself hardened into brittle glass.
Liora crouched, grimacing. "Something tore it apart. But not for food. For sport."
Edrin's gut twisted. He could feel the residue of power lingering in the air—a sickly heat that gnawed at the edges of his silver pulse. It was familiar in a way that made him shiver.
"The Council's emissary said they would send something… personal," he muttered.
Selene's staff glowed faintly, tracing the edges of the scorched ring. "Not an emissary. A hunter. The Ashen are born from Council fire, stitched from shadow and ash. They do not fight with honor. They stalk, they weaken, and they strike only when escape is impossible."
"Like wolves," Liora spat.
"No," Selene replied quietly. "Wolves kill cleanly."
---
The first attack came at dusk.
They had made camp in a hollow beneath a split oak, the ground covered in ash so fine it clung like powder to their boots. Edrin sat apart, focusing on the rhythm of the Beacon's pulse. Since absorbing the shard from the Grove, it no longer raged against him. It listened. He could shape it, coax it—but only just. The power felt like a river, and he was a dam learning to hold the flood.
Liora sharpened her blade while Selene whispered wards around the camp's perimeter.
The silence broke with a low growl.
Edrin froze. The sound hadn't come from one direction, but from many—echoing through the forest, carried on the ash-filled air. Liora was on her feet instantly, sword raised, eyes scanning the darkness.
Shapes moved between the trees. Dozens. Their forms were hard to make out, but their eyes burned with ember-glow, and their limbs shifted unnaturally, like smoke given flesh. The growls rose into a chorus, a hunting pack circling its prey.
Selene's wards flared faintly, reacting to their presence. "Ashen Hounds," she whispered. "The Council has unleashed a pack."
Edrin rose, silver threads sparking around his hands. "Then we fight."
The first hound leapt.
It erupted from the shadows like living fire, body composed of molten ash, its jaws lined with ember-fangs. Edrin raised his hands instinctively, and silver light burst outward, forming a barrier. The beast slammed into it, claws raking against the glowing surface, sparks flying.
Liora was faster—her blade cut clean through the hound's flank, scattering its body into a plume of ash that drifted into nothingness.
But two more took its place. Then three. Then five.
The camp erupted into chaos.
---
Edrin fought to hold his ground. The Beacon's light surged at his command, forming lashes of silver thread that struck like whips, tearing through ash-bodies. Each strike scattered the hounds, but each time they re-formed, stitching themselves back together from smoke and ember.
"They're not staying down!" Edrin shouted.
"Because you're fighting their shells!" Selene called, her staff blazing with golden fire as she shattered another beast. "Their cores burn inside—strike the heart, or they will rise again!"
Edrin focused. The next hound lunged, and instead of striking blindly, he let the Beacon guide him. The silver threads wrapped around the beast's body, binding it mid-air. For a moment he felt it—the hot, writhing ember at its core, pulsing with borrowed life.
He clenched his fist. The threads constricted, piercing into the core. The hound shrieked, collapsing into nothing but falling ash.
"I see it now!" he shouted.
"Good," Selene replied, her voice sharp. "But there are more coming."
Liora fought back-to-back with him, her sword glowing faintly as silver threads wrapped along its edge. Each strike she made now dug deeper, finding the ember-hearts with precision. Together, the two cut down hound after hound, the battlefield filling with drifting ash.
But the pack was endless.
---
Minutes stretched into an hour. The hounds attacked in waves, wearing them down. Sweat poured down Edrin's back, his arms aching from channeling so much energy. The Beacon pulsed steadily, but each flare left his body weaker, as though the light drew not only from the shard, but from his flesh as well.
Selene's wards began to dim. Her staff trembled as she forced another blast of golden flame outward, barely keeping three hounds from breaching the camp.
Liora's strikes slowed, her breath ragged. Blood trickled from a gash on her arm, but she fought on, teeth bared in defiance.
Edrin's chest heaved. "There's too many—we can't hold forever!"
As if in response, the forest fell suddenly silent.
The hounds froze, their ember-eyes flaring brighter before all at once they withdrew into the shadows, vanishing like smoke on the wind. The silence that followed was worse than their growls.
Selene staggered, leaning heavily on her staff. "It stops… only when their master arrives."
A low rumble rolled through the ground. The trees shook, ash falling like snow in heavy sheets. Edrin felt the silver pulse surge violently, warning him.
From the depths of the forest, it emerged.
The Ashen Stalker.
Its body towered twice the height of a man, forged from blackened ash and ember-fire. Its limbs were long, clawed, and its head resembled the skull of a stag wreathed in flame. The ember at its chest burned brighter than the sun, pulsing like a heartbeat. Each step it took left the ground scorched and cracked.
Liora cursed under her breath. "Tell me we can kill that."
Selene's gaze hardened. "Every hunt has a master. Destroy it, and the pack falls."
Edrin's fists clenched, silver light flaring. "Then we finish this."
---
The Stalker moved with terrifying speed. One moment it stood at the treeline, the next it was upon them, claws sweeping. Edrin threw up a shield of silver light, the impact shattering through him like thunder. He flew back, crashing into the split oak, the breath torn from his lungs.
Liora lunged, blade slicing across its leg. Sparks flew, but the creature barely faltered. Its skull turned toward her, ember-eyes blazing, and with one swipe it sent her tumbling through the ash.
Selene's staff blazed with golden wards, chains of light lashing around the Stalker's limbs. For a heartbeat it staggered, caught. "Now, Edrin!" she cried.
The Beacon surged in answer. Silver threads erupted from his hands, weaving into a spear of pure light. He hurled it forward, aiming for the ember-heart.
The Stalker roared. The spear struck true—but the ember flared, absorbing the blow, scattering the silver into fragments.
Edrin staggered back, horror flooding him. "It didn't work—!"
Selene's wards shattered as the Stalker broke free, charging forward.
Liora rolled to her feet, blood streaking her cheek, and shouted, "Its core is shielded! We need to weaken it first!"
"How?!" Edrin shouted, dodging a swipe that tore a tree in half.
Selene's eyes blazed with sudden realization. "The shard you carry—the Beacon listens now. You must not just strike with it—you must bind!"
Edrin's chest ached as the silver pulse throbbed wildly. Bind. The word echoed in his mind, resonating with the memory of the Grove. Not domination, not destruction—control.
He closed his eyes briefly, forcing calm through the storm of panic. The threads of light coiled tighter around his chest, then flowed outward, wrapping around his arms, his legs, his blade.
When he opened his eyes again, the Stalker loomed before him, jaws wide.
Edrin stepped forward. The silver threads burst outward, latching onto the Stalker's limbs. The creature roared, thrashing violently, but the light held. He felt the ember-heart beating within it—furious, scorching, struggling against his grip.
"Now!" he cried.
Liora sprang forward, her blade glowing silver where the threads wrapped it. With a fierce cry, she drove the weapon into the Stalker's chest. The ember shattered, exploding in a burst of fire and ash.
The creature let out a final, piercing shriek before collapsing into a storm of cinders that scattered into the night.
The forest fell silent once more.
---
For a long time, none of them spoke. Edrin stood trembling, silver threads retracting into his skin, leaving him drained and shaking. Liora collapsed onto the ash, panting heavily. Selene lowered her staff, her face pale with exhaustion.
Finally, Edrin broke the silence. "We… we killed it."
Selene shook her head slowly. "We survived it. There is a difference. The Council will send worse, now that they know you can resist their hunters."
Edrin's fists clenched, though his body screamed with fatigue. The silver pulse within him was steady, but quieter—like a fire banked after a storm.
"Then let them send more," he said hoarsely. "I'll face every trial they throw at me. I'll make this power mine."
Selene studied him, her eyes both proud and worried. "Be careful, Edrin. Every victory binds you deeper to the Beacon. And the Council is not your only enemy. The true danger may yet be yourself."
Edrin met her gaze, then looked to Liora, who gave him a weary but fierce grin.
"We'll face it together," she said.
He nodded. "Together."
The ashes of the Stalker still smoldered faintly behind them, the forest heavy with silence once more. But the path forward waited, and the Council's shadow loomed ever larger.
And though Edrin's body trembled, the light within him burned steady.
The Ashen Hunt was over. The war of trials had only just begun.