Dusk dropped like a heavy blanket as Cael and Aylin left behind the broken bones of their village. The sky above them was streaked with bruised purples and smudges of gold, like someone had tried to cover up the day's pain and couldn't quite manage it. Ash swirled in the cold wind, dusting the path in gray—covering scars, never quite healing them.
They moved quietly, a bundle of salvaged supplies slung across Cael's back, the battered shield strapped tight to his arm. Aylin stayed close, her small hand slipping into his whenever the darkness thickened between the trees. In her other hand, she clutched her doll and the half-full water skin, ready to pass it over if Cael so much as paused or stumbled.
With every step, Cael felt the weight of this new life settle deeper on his shoulders: the blur of responsibility, the ache of not having parents to lean on, the way even silence now felt haunted. Yet sometimes, when the wind shifted, he could almost hear their voices—his mother's soft reminders, his father's deep patience. The memory of home, echoing in the emptiness.
At the river, the sound of water was a comfort against the world's ragged edges. Instinctively, Aylin went to work, crouching low and scanning the muddy banks. Her mother's teachings came out in soft murmurs: "Let's check for wild ginger… and maybe see if any fish are sleeping in the shallow stones."
Cael watched her—feet pressed together, eyes sharp with something more than fear. It was a quiet cleverness that had always set her apart. In minutes, she'd found a cluster of edible roots, rinsed them clean, and handed him the first bite.
He smiled, though worry flickered beneath. "You're good at this," he told her. "Better than me."
Aylin shrugged, but her eyes sparkled with pride. "You always remembered what Dad said. 'It's not who's fastest or strongest—it's who's most careful, most thoughtful. That's who endures.'"
They worked together, using the net Aylin had knotted from twine and willow. Cael's hands were clumsy but steady. Aylin's small fingers darted, fast and sure, guiding him to the best spots and always scanning the water's current.
As dusk deepened, they managed a single silver fish—fat, thrashing. Aylin handled it gently, murmuring a quiet apology before dispatching it just as their mother had shown her.
Cael built a fire from flint and dry bark. As they ate, he noticed Aylin watching the flames, lips moving, lost in thought. "Thinking of Mom?" he asked.
She nodded, barely a whisper. "And Dad. Do you remember the story he told us, about the wolf and the shield?"
He did. Every word. The lesson hidden in the story, the way their father's eyes would turn serious as he pressed the battered shield into Cael's hands. *If you ever face a wild beast, don't run. Stand tall, shield high, and meet its eyes. Animals know courage. Fear makes you prey. Bravery makes you a rival. And protect each other first—always.*
As the fire faded, the forest pressed close. The sounds changed: night birds, the rustle of wings, the sudden snap of a twig.
Aylin, always alert, suddenly tensed. Her eyes found a shadow between the trees. "Cael," she whispered, "someone's there."
Every muscle in Cael's body went taut. He rose, shield up, voice low. "Stay behind me," he breathed, shifting so Aylin could crouch close to his back.
A figure stepped forward, tall and cloaked. On his shoulder, a symbol glittered in the fire's dying light: a snake entwined with flowers. Cael knew it—too well.
The stranger stopped just at the edge of the firelight, his voice soft, almost friendly, but cold beneath. "You shouldn't travel alone. There are things in these woods more dangerous than I."
Cael didn't lower his shield. "We're not alone," he said, willing his voice steady. "And we're not helpless."
The man tilted his head, eyes glinting. "Brave words. But the woods test everyone. Even those with iron in their blood."
Something icy crawled up Cael's spine. Did he know? Or was it just a threat?
Aylin's hand found a stick. She didn't tremble, didn't cry—she just watched the stranger, healer's patience in her gaze, ready for Cael's signal.
The man stepped closer, and the fear pressed in, heavy and sharp as a blade. *Iron Will*, the words echoed in Cael's head. *Endure. Protect. Don't break.* He forced his feet to stay planted, shield high, breath steady despite the panic scraping at his ribs.
"I don't want trouble," Cael managed. "We're just passing through."
The man smirked, eyes flicking to Aylin. "You've got spirit, both of you. But spirit means little if you're not willing to pay the price for it."
And then, as abruptly as he'd appeared, the stranger melted back into shadow—a threat, a promise, or maybe just a warning.
The air felt colder. Cael let out a shaky breath and turned to Aylin. "You okay?"
Aylin nodded. "He was trying to scare us. You didn't let him." She squeezed his arm, pride and relief mixed in her eyes.
They packed up, leaving the embers behind. The path ahead grew rough, rocks slick with moss and damp leaves. In a tangle of roots, Aylin's foot slipped. She caught herself, but a low, guttural growl rumbled from the dark.
Cael froze. A wolf, bigger than any he'd ever seen, padded into the clearing, hackles raised, yellow eyes locked on them.
Time stretched thin, fear crawling up Cael's spine. But through the fog, his father's lesson echoed: *If you face a wild beast, don't run. Stand tall, shield high, and meet its eyes. Protect your sister first—always.*
He glanced back. "Get behind me. Find a stick. Make noise if I tell you."
She nodded, crouched low, trust absolute.
Cael raised the shield, heart pounding, staring down the wolf. He forced his voice steady. "Stay back!" he shouted, just as Dad had taught. "We're not afraid!"
The wolf bared its teeth, uncertain. Cael's knees shook, but he held his ground, feeling a stubborn, glowing ember deep inside—a will that refused to yield. *Iron Will*, not just a trait, but a legacy. Courage, when it matters most.
For a heartbeat, everything balanced on a knife's edge.
The wolf growled, muscles coiling to spring.
Cael gripped the shield tighter, ready to protect his sister at any cost.
A branch snapped behind them.
Darkness surged.
And the world exploded into chaos.