Draven left Branthollow without looking back. The village torches glowed faintly behind him, but he didn't slow. His body ached from the Direwolf's blows, yet it wasn't pain that drove him onward. It was something heavier, sharper. A vow forming with every step.
He tightened his cloak and walked into the night.
An hour later, a sound broke the silence.
"Wait!"
Draven stopped. He didn't need to turn — he already knew the voice.
Mira stumbled into the road, clutching Luma against her chest, cheeks flushed from running.
"You didn't think I'd let you go alone, did you?"
Draven exhaled through his nose. "Mira…"
She marched up to him, determined despite her trembling. "You showed me your beasts. You told me they mattered. Well, so do you. I'm coming."
He shook his head. "The road isn't safe. Not for you."
"I'm not afraid."
"You should be."
Their eyes locked. For a moment, silence stretched. Then Draven sighed and started walking again.
"Fine," he muttered. "But only for tonight."
Mira's face brightened, and she hurried to keep pace.
By midnight, they reached a clearing at the edge of the woods. Draven gathered dry branches, sparking a small fire to life. Sparks rose into the sky, vanishing into the canopy of stars.
Mira huddled close to the flames, Luma bleating softly in her arms.
"Tell me more," she said.
Draven glanced at her. "More?"
"About the beasts. About why they're different. The village says chains keep them in line. But you said Kings don't need chains. Why?"
He fed another branch to the fire, his voice steady. "Servitors have one gift. That's why they're used like tools. Strong back, sharp nose, fast legs. Just one."
Mira nodded, listening.
"Wildlings are harder. Some have two. Hard hides and tusks, or speed and fire-breath. Nobles…" He paused. "…Nobles have three, sometimes five. Like Kaelith's Direwolf. Speed. Howl. Bond. All sharpened together. They think. They plan."
"And Kings?" Mira asked.
Draven's gaze flicked to the flames. "Kings don't just use power. They draw others to them. Even Servitors obey. Not from chains, but from respect. From instinct. A King beast commands because others believe it should."
Mira's mouth opened. "Like a leader?"
He nodded. "A true one."
Her eyes shone in the firelight. "Then… if beasts can follow without marks, maybe people can too."
Draven's lips curved faintly. "That's the idea."
The woods groaned. Branches shifted, heavy footsteps echoed.
Draven stiffened, rising to his feet. "Stay close."
A stag stepped into the firelight. At first glance, it looked like any other — tall, antlers wide, muscles taut. But its horns glowed faintly, cracks of molten orange running along them. Its eyes burned too bright. Its hooves left scorch marks in the grass.
Mira gasped. "What is that?"
Draven's jaw tightened. "An anomaly."
The stag snorted, pawing the earth. Its gaze fixed on them.
"Back," Draven ordered, pushing Mira gently behind him.
The beast charged.
Draven dove aside, grabbing a branch from the fire. Flames licked the wood as he swung. The stag reeled back, antlers sparking, then lunged again.
The impact knocked the breath from his chest. He rolled, scrambling to his feet, swinging the burning branch again. Sparks exploded against the stag's hide.
Mira screamed, clutching Luma tight.
The stag bellowed, lowering its head. Its antlers glowed hotter, molten cracks spreading.
Draven's teeth clenched. Too strong. Too fast. If it struck him head-on, he'd be finished.
He feinted left, then darted right, slamming the branch against the stag's flank. It stumbled, hissing smoke. That heartbeat was enough. Draven grabbed Mira's arm.
"Run!"
They sprinted into the trees. Branches whipped against their faces. Behind them, the stag roared, but it didn't follow. Its glow dimmed as the night swallowed it again.
They collapsed in another clearing, gasping for air.
Mira clung to him, trembling. "We… we almost died."
Draven dropped the charred branch, his chest heaving. "That's why you can't come."
Her eyes filled with tears. "But—"
"No." His voice was firm now. "If I can barely hold off a Wildling anomaly, what happens when I meet worse? What happens when Kaelith finds me again?"
Mira's lip trembled.
Draven softened, crouching to meet her eyes. "Go back to Branthollow. Guard the beasts. Guard my house. If I fail… someone has to keep the flame alive."
She shook her head, but his hand was steady on her shoulder.
"You're the only one I trust, Mira."
Slowly, she nodded. Tears streaked her cheeks, but her voice was strong. "Then promise me you'll return."
"I promise."
By dawn, they stood at the fork in the road. The village smoke rose faint in the distance. The wild path stretched the other way.
Mira hugged him once, fiercely, then turned back toward Branthollow. Luma trotted at her side.
Draven watched until she was gone. Then he turned toward the hills.
His body ached, his cloak was torn, but his steps were steady.
Toward the ruins.