They rode back in silence, the forest blurring past like a painting torn in the wind.
Kael's mind was a storm.
The truth about his bloodline, the revelation of his father's disappearance, the role he was meant to play—all of it coiled in his chest like a knot of lightning. But there was no time to reflect. The scout's words echoed in his head.
"The corruption is marching."
The Pack was in danger.
And this time, Kael wasn't just a boy drawn to the forest's whisper.
He was its protector.
🐺 Return to Ash
When the group finally arrived at the outskirts of the Pack's main camp, the forest no longer sang. The air was wrong—stale, heavy, like breath held too long. The trees here were graying. Leaves curled at their edges. Insects lay still on the ground.
Brann's wolf eyes narrowed. "It's already begun."
Kael pushed forward, heart pounding. As they cleared the final ridge, the camp came into view—and what he saw hollowed his chest.
Half of it was already burning.
Smoke curled upward in sick spirals. Several tents were torn to shreds, their edges blackened by rot instead of flame. Wolves fought in the clearing below, snarling and snapping, blades flashing in the firelight.
But they weren't fighting animals.
They were fighting… them.
🧟 The Crimsonborn
Lurching forward from the treeline came the Crimsonborn—humanoids twisted by corruption, once human but now hollow-eyed, their skin cracked like stone and veined with glowing red light.
Their mouths opened not to scream, but to hum—a sick, discordant vibration that set Kael's teeth on edge.
Brann's voice was grim. "They've sent foot soldiers. This is no accident. They're testing us."
Kael didn't hesitate.
"Lyra! Get to the injured and pull them back! Brann, take the left flank. I'll clear the center. No one breaks the line."
He didn't wait for an answer.
Kael leapt.
Mid-air, his body shimmered—muscles tensed, bones shifted, eyes flashed silver. When he landed, he wasn't entirely human anymore.
Moonflare ignited.
🔥 Baptism by Battle
Kael slammed into the Crimsonborn like a meteor. The first one raised a rusted axe—but Kael moved faster than thought. His claws slashed, cutting through corrupted flesh like parchment.
Behind him, Pack members rallied at the sight of him—half-wolf, half-man, all fury. Roars rose as the tide shifted.
But it wasn't easy.
The Crimsonborn didn't bleed. When struck down, they dissolved into ash and smoke—but their numbers didn't dwindle fast enough.
Kael was covered in sweat and ash, every muscle screaming, when he finally saw it.
A figure, taller than the rest. Cloaked in black robes that seemed to drink the light. Its face was masked in bone, and in its hand was a staff humming with crimson power.
The first Avatar.
☠️ The Crimson Herald
The figure stepped forward slowly, almost lazily, and pointed its staff at Kael.
"You reek of the Moon," it rasped, voice like dry leaves. "And still you bleed like a pup."
Kael growled, Moonflare flaring around him.
"Who are you?"
"I am the Herald. The first tongue of the Eclipse. And I have come to taste your fear."
Kael didn't wait.
He launched forward, claws extended—but the Herald moved impossibly fast. Staff met claw in a clash that sent out a shockwave, flattening the nearby trees. The two danced in a blur of light and shadow, fury and rot.
Each strike Kael landed left behind searing burns on the Herald's robes—but the Herald's counterstrikes chilled Kael to his core, draining the heat from his limbs.
"You are not yet whole," the Herald whispered as their weapons clashed again and again. "The blood of the wolf calls to you, but you fight it. Deny it—and you will die."
Kael staggered back. He was losing.
🌕 Bond of the Pack
As the Herald raised its staff for the final blow, a cry cut through the air.
"Kael!"
Lyra, bloodied but unbroken, stood with the rest of the Pack behind her. Dozens strong. Their eyes glowed in unison—each one Moonbound, each one howling not in fear, but in unity.
He wasn't alone.
Kael took a deep breath.
He stopped resisting.
The Moonflare surged.
But this time, it wasn't fire or fury. It was harmony. His bloodline didn't demand control—it offered a bond.
He was never meant to carry it alone.
Kael lifted his hands to the sky—and the Pack howled with him.
Silver light erupted from his chest, and the Herald screamed as the moon's fury descended.
⚔️ Aftermath
When the light faded, the Herald was gone—its form scattered into shadow and silence.
The Crimsonborn had fallen.
And Kael, still kneeling in the ash, felt something shift inside him.
Not power. Not glory.
Understanding.
He turned to his Pack, his voice hoarse.
"Tonight wasn't a victory. It was a warning. The Eclipse knows we're here. They'll come again. Stronger. Smarter."
He looked up at the sky, where the moon now shone clear and full.
"But so will we."