The wind over the northern peaks howled like a grieving spirit. Pale mist clung to the pine-covered slopes, curling through the trees like the breath of the old gods. Beneath that shroud of ghost-white fog, three figures trudged upward—silent but determined.
Jackie led, spear in hand, cloak soaked from dew and river spray. Behind him came Yara, her braid slick with frost, eyes alert to every twitch of the wild. Last was Kaden, his jaw tight, his every step loud with the crunch of resentment.
They had left the village before dawn, the sky still black as crowfeather. Now, hours later, the sun barely breached the clouds.
They were heading for the Old Shrine—a relic said to rest in the Valley of Hollow Beasts. And Jackie was certain: whatever called to him in dreams, whatever stirred the Wolfflame inside him, was there and all in anyway on his mind and kept going.
The night before, Rahu had spoken in his riddling way, words heavy with meaning.
> "There is another Heartstone. A greater one. Buried where the blood of beasts once boiled, and the stars fell in sorrow."
Yara had frowned. "You mean the shrine in the north? That's just legend. The mountain's cursed."
Jackie shook his head. "I've seen it. In the dream. A wolf made of stars. It showed me a stone wrapped in flame. And a blade buried in frost."
Kaden scoffed. "Dreams don't make warriors. Steel does."
But Rahu only smiled his smoke-wreathed smile and handed Jackie a thin, bark-scroll map.
> "Then go. Let steel and dream walk side by side. But know this—no power comes without a price paid in blood."
So they'd gone blood Sure are put in place.
Now Jackie's muscles screamed with the climb. His legs were raw from brambles. And still the shrine was only a rumor in the mist ahead in other to mend mindset.
But with each step, the Heartstone on his chest beat faster and faster.
Something was waiting.
They passed the boundary-stones before midday—ancient fangs of obsidian jutting from the earth, each carved with totems of the First Hunts. Jackie ran his fingers along one: a spiral of fire and fang, chipped but still pulsing with old energy.
> "Wolfflame," he whispered.
Beside him, Yara glanced sidelong. "Are you sure you want to do this? If that stone exists, others will want it too. Kaden's not the only one watching your rise."
Jackie exhaled slowly. "That's why I have to find it. If my power's growing… I need to control it. Not just for me. For the tribe."
She gave a small nod. "For the tribe, then."
Behind them, Kaden grunted. "Let's just reach this shrine before we freeze."
The trail wound tighter, the woods closing in with twisted roots and whispering leaves. Branches clawed at them like jealous hands. As they crossed a narrow gorge, Rahu's map directed them to a moss-slick bridge of fallen logs.
Jackie took point again, testing each step before waving the others across.
They climbed for hours.
At last, they reached a stream—clear, fast, cruelly cold. The only way forward was to ford it.
"I'll go first," Jackie said.
He stepped into the water.
It hit like knives.
Before he was waist-deep, the current surged—and dragged him under.
The world turned to thunder.
Jackie slammed against rocks, his limbs flailing in the frigid crush. Breath fled. Panic screamed.
> "No. Not like this. MOVE."
From deep within, the Heartstone flared. Not fire—but instinct. A sudden surge of clarity through the blood.
His vision sharpened. His body twisted like a fish, his legs kicking with unnatural rhythm. For a heartbeat, the water stilled around him.
> [Bloodline Reflex Triggered: Lupine Flow – Aquatic Adaptation Unlocked]
He broke the surface—gasping—and slammed into the far bank, claws of mud catching his fingers.
He coughed hard. Water spat from his mouth.
Yara was shouting. Kaden had already grabbed a branch to throw. But Jackie waved them off and staggered upright.
"I'm—fine." His eyes gleamed with firelight. "Something's changed."
Kaden stared, brows low. "That wasn't luck. That was power."
"Maybe," Jackie said. "Or maybe it was the wolf inside me."
They built a fire, just long enough to stave off the cold, before pressing on.
As the sun dipped low, the trees began to thin. Jackie paused, breath catching in his throat.
A valley yawned before them—dark with age, cloaked in mist. The trees grew in spirals here, their roots twisting into stone ruins half-swallowed by moss and time.
> "This is it," Jackie said, stepping into the hush.
The ruins pulsed with something old and waiting.
They descended the worn steps, torches crackling. At the valley's heart stood two stone doors—easily ten men high—flanked by crumbled pillars carved with spirit-beasts in mid-roar. The totems were still vivid despite the years. Wolves. Bears. Serpents. Falcons.
And at the center of the doors—set in a groove like an open mouth—was a brazier, unlit.
Beneath it, ancient glyphs read:
> "Only the Marked may pass. Feed the flame with true blood, and the way shall open."
Jackie stepped forward, heart thudding. He reached for his blade.
---
Yara caught his wrist.
"Wait. That might not be—"
But he had already cut his palm. The talon-marked scar sizzled as blood welled.
He let the blood fall into the brazier.
At first, nothing.
Then—a spark.
The brazier ignited, not with red flame, but blue-white fire that hissed like snow meeting steel. The glyphs flared to life. The ground trembled.
The doors groaned open an inch.
Then stopped.
Kaden cursed. "It's not enough."
Jackie frowned, holding his bleeding palm over the flame again. "No. It's testing me."
He stepped back. The flames danced higher.
And in the firelight, shadows moved—three shapes.
Spirit-beasts made of smoke and bone, clawing their way from the stone around them.
Trial guardians.
Jackie raised his spear. Yara unsheathed her twin knives. Kaden's spear glinted with hunger.
The shrine had let them this far.
Now they would have to earn the rest.
---
End of Chapter 13