The morning air was damp and silent, wrapped in the eerie mist that rolled down from the cracked hills beyond Ashgrove. The forest held its breath—neither predator nor prey stirred. Beneath the gnarled roots of the Great Elm, Kael stood alone, facing the burial pyres.
Five corpses lay there—wolves and beasts who had fallen in the recent raid. Loyal creatures who had followed him without question. Smoke curled like black serpents into the sky.
Nyra watched from a distance, tail low, eyes unreadable.
Kael lowered his head. Not as a king, but as a comrade.
"This was the cost," he murmured. "And it will not be paid in vain."
He stepped back. Flamefang—a young fire-dwelling drake Kael had taken under his wing—lit the pyres with a searing breath. The scent of ash and burnt fur joined the morning dew.
Behind him, dozens of eyes looked on: lions, wolves, scaled beasts, even a few of the larger ravagers. His army now numbered 117 sentient beasts—not just wild things, but minds sharpened by the Abyss and bonded through shared survival. Of these, only 7 were capable of command, and 13 had begun rudimentary training as scouts or messengers.
Still pitifully small.
But it was a start.
The Intelligence Report
That evening, as the camp quieted, Kael met with his inner circle in a hollowed-out alcove at the base of the Great Elm. The torchlight flickered over a rough sketch etched into the stone floor.
Vorr's bloodied subordinate—captured rather than slain—had proved useful. A jackal-like creature, warped by the Abyss. Nyra had spent hours breaking his will. And he talked.
Kael jabbed a claw at the stone diagram. "This is Grothak's forces."
Grothak's Abyssal Horde:
Total known forces: ~620 Abyss-touched beasts
Structure:
Elite Circle (The Crimson Fangs): 6 powerful commanders, including Vorr
Enforcers: ~40 evolved lieutenants with partial sentience
Main Force: ~500 combatants, a mix of Abyssal wolves, lions, scaled ravagers, and corrupted boars
Abyss Cultists: ~50—creatures who act more like priests or handlers for dark rituals
Grothak himself: Little is known, but reports suggest a massive, intelligent brute, likely Abyss-born, capable of mental domination
Kael's claw scratched over the central territory: a burned-out basin of black trees called Gloomhollow, roughly a three-day march east.
"They're building something," said Flamefang, his voice low. "The prisoner said Grothak's preparing a Calling—some kind of ritual."
Kael's amber eyes darkened. "Then we have little time."
The Oath Ceremony
Later that night, beneath the moonlit sky, Kael called the first formal Oath of Loyalty.
He stepped before the gathered beasts—many still uncertain, others loyal but afraid.
"This is not just survival," Kael growled, his voice sharp like a blade. "We are no longer prey. We are no longer slaves to the Abyss. We forge something greater—a dominion of ash and bone, built not by fear, but by unity."
He motioned to his chosen officers:
Nyra, black nightlion and his first bond—cold, sharp, and fiercely loyal.
Stonehide, a heavily scarred rhino-beast who'd defected from a warring tribe—slow but unshakable.
Whisper, a snow-furred she-wolf with unmatched speed and a sharp mind, now in charge of scouts.
Riven, a wiry lynx who had started training the younger beasts in combat drills.
One by one, they stepped forward, pressing claw, paw, or horn to Kael's chest in a gesture of oath.
Each spoke the words, a ritual Nyra had helped him craft:
"By ash, I rise.By blood, I stand.By oath, I serve.To Kael, and to the fire-born kingdom."
A guttural chant rose from the crowd.
Ash and bone. Loyalty and fire.
Something had begun.
Later That Night
Nyra approached him after the ceremony. Her voice was quiet.
"You spoke like a true king."
Kael didn't respond immediately. He stood at the edge of the Great Elm's roots, eyes watching the distant stars.
"I don't feel like one."
"You command a hundred beasts. You've started an army. That's more than most rulers ever manage."
Kael let out a slow breath. "Grothak commands six hundred. His cult twists minds and carves strength into flesh. I can't match that with speeches."
Nyra moved closer. "No. But you can match it with loyalty. With choice. They follow him out of fear. They follow you because they believe."
Kael turned to her, eyes gleaming. "Do you?"
She met his gaze, lips curling into a rare smile. "You already know the answer."
They stood like that for a long while, the warmth of the pyres behind them, the chill of coming war ahead.
A Crack in the Horizon
Far beyond Ashgrove, deep within Gloomhollow, Vorr knelt before a towering silhouette cloaked in shadows and pulsating black veins.
Grothak's voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"So… the lion has teeth after all."
Vorr's head bowed lower, blood still fresh on his shoulder. "He's building. Recruiting. Preparing."
Grothak's claws curled over a writhing Abyssal crystal.
"Let him gather his pawns. Let him dream."
He turned toward a cavern where ten beasts lay, eyes blank, glowing with dark energy.
"When the Calling begins… he will kneel."