SOUTHERN WILDWOODS – THREE DAYS LATER
The snow had thinned, replaced by cold rains and moss-covered stones. Twisted trees formed crooked arches above Kael as he trudged through the mud. His cloak clung wet to his back, his boots soaked and heavy. Every step sank into the soft earth, leaving behind heavy impressions swallowed by rain.
Nyru drifted beside him, half-visible in the low fog. "The air is strange here," the spirit bear murmured.
Kael didn't answer. His eyes were distant, gaze fixed on nothing. His thoughts were elsewhere—on someone.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Nyru asked, voice dry.
Kael blinked, pulled back to the present. "Oh... well, it's been three years, and I still haven't told her what I feel."
Nyru sighed and shook his massive head. "You think she feels the same way?"
Kael looked down at the trail ahead, boots splashing through puddles. "I mean... with everything that happened in the Trial of Echo... I believe she likes me too."
"Son of Arokk, please," Nyru groaned. "Can you focus? We are in a place where the very air smells of rot and memory—and you're thinking about like and dislike?"
Kael chuckled faintly. "You're not wrong."
Still, something about the woods made the air feel... heavier.
He glanced around. The forest was silent—too silent. No birds. No insects. Just the slow, rhythmic drip of water and the occasional creak of ancient, gnarled wood.
"What do you think?" he asked.
Nyru narrowed his eyes. "It's cursed," he muttered. "I've felt this place before. Long ago."
"I thought we left curses behind in the North," Kael said, but his tone lacked conviction.
Then, a branch snapped in the distance. Then another—closer.
Kael dropped into a crouch, hand resting on the dagger still wrapped in cloth beneath his cloak. His breath slowed. Nyru tensed.
"We're not alone."
Shapes began to emerge from the mist—lean figures cloaked in forest colors, adorned with bone jewelry and blades carved from twisted wood and stone. Their faces were painted in streaks of bark and ash, their eyes glowing faintly like duskfire.
One stepped forward. A woman, older than she appeared. Her eyes were golden and slit like a serpent's. Her voice was rough, thick with old power.
"You bear the scent of the Void," she said. "Yet your heart beats like a child's."
Kael rose slowly, careful not to draw his blade. "I'm not here to fight."
She studied him for a long, quiet moment. "All who enter the Hollow Glen seek something. What is it you want, Ice Heir?"
"I seek allies," Kael replied. "Those who remember what this world used to be—and what it could still become."
The woman's smile was neither kind nor cruel—just a twitch of ancient amusement. "Then you seek the Thorn Pact."
Kael nodded. "I've heard stories. Survivors. Rebels. Old spirits. I need them."
"You want the forgotten," she said. "But be warned—some things are forgotten for a reason."
Another figure moved beside her. A tall man, his left arm missing and his skin rough as petrified bark. His voice was low, gravel thickened by distrust. "And if we say no?"
Kael didn't waver. "Then I'll walk alone. But the war that's coming won't leave anyone untouched."
Nyru's form flared brighter, his growl rumbling through the trees like a thundercloud. "He carries a power older than your forest," the spirit bear growled.
The woman raised her hand, silencing the others with a gesture.
She stepped closer, gaze now fully locked on Kael. "Perhaps... the forest has waited for you."
Kael turned slightly, glancing at Nyru. "She said something about the Void. What did she mean? Who is it?"
The woman's gold eyes glinted with strange warmth. She turned away slowly, her voice drifting back with a casual finality.
"That is something only you can discover for yourself."
Kael halted, her words anchoring in his mind like a hook. His breath caught.
The Void?
Why did it feel familiar?
Why did it sound like him?
---
MEANWHILE – NORTH, NEAR THE SLAUGHTERFIELD
Sari stood at the edge of a cliff, watching smoke curl into the sky from a distant village. Her cloak billowed in the wind, her hands clenched at her sides.
Jeyin approached quietly, his voice low. "Still no sign of him?"
"No," she replied, eyes never leaving the horizon.
"You know he's not the same anymore."
Sari didn't answer.
Rol stepped forward, his cheetah-marked skin slick with rain. "The stars shift," he said. "A spirit has been unleashed. A storm walks in flesh."
Sari turned to him slowly, her gaze like frost. "I don't care what he's become. I'll find him. And if the world fears him…"
She drew her blade in one swift motion, its edge gleaming beneath the gray sky.
"…then I'll stand between him and the world."
---
DEEP IN THE SOUTHERN WILDWOODS – EZRA'S HUT
Rain tapped gently against the moss-covered roof as smoke curled from the small wooden chimney. The hut was carved into the side of a great, hollowed tree. Warmth radiated from within—herbs hung in bundles, strange trinkets cluttered the walls, and a faded tapestry of the old world sagged above the hearth.
Kael stood just inside, still damp from the woods. He glanced at the old woman seated across the room, beside a flickering blue flame.
"You'll need a compass," she said, her voice calm but firm. "Something to guide you. Finding allies on this path will not be easy. Especially for you… not after the accusations they laid on your name."
Kael furrowed his brow. "You speak as if you've known me my whole life."
"You need them to trust you," she continued, ignoring his remark. "Trust is earned in pain, in fire, and in choice."
He looked at her curiously. "Thank you… uh—" he hesitated, realizing he didn't know her name.
She smiled, finishing the sentence for him. "Ezra."
There was wisdom in her eyes. Old pain. Older patience.
"Seeing how you helped me willingly," Kael said, "I suppose I should offer something in return."
Ezra stood slowly, her back still straight despite her years. "Then give me your word," she said. "Wield my spirit beast."
Kael blinked in shock, stepping back slightly. "What? How?"
From the shadows behind her, a luminous figure emerged—a spirit bear, smaller than Nyru but no less majestic. Its form shimmered with violet-blue light, its eyes deep and wild.
"All my life," Ezra said quietly, "I've longed for the kind of journey you now walk. But the curse I bear made it nearly impossible."
She reached out, resting her hand gently on the spirit bear's side.
"I didn't receive her until I was already old. But I made a promise to Gyra—that she would not die forgotten. That she would live the adventure I never had."
Kael and Nyru both stared at the spirit bear.
"Gyra," Ezra said. "That's her name."
Kael nodded slowly.
Ezra stepped into the center of the hut, drawing ancient symbols in the air with her hands. Blue and gold lines of magic shimmered between her fingers as the symbols glowed and pulsed with life.
The room dimmed. Kael's feet lifted from the ground, his cloak flowing upward as if caught in an unseen wind. Ancient aura swirled around him, surrounding both his soul and Gyra's.
The binding began.
Ezra's voice rang out in an incantation older than the kingdoms, and the bond was sealed.
Kael's body dropped softly back to the wooden floor as the light faded. He staggered for a moment, clutching his chest.
"Wow," he breathed. "It feels different. So different. Almost like… I have three minds."
He glanced between Gyra and Nyru.
"I didn't know a person could bond with more than one spirit beast."
"Few can," Ezra replied. "But you're not like most. You are the heir to something ancient... and dangerous."
Gyra let out a soft growl—a playful one, almost eager. She circled Kael once, then phased cleanly through a nearby wall and reappeared beside him in a blink.
Kael stared. "She's… fast."
"Faster than Nyru," Ezra said with pride. "She can phase through matter. Move at speeds beyond sight. Her gifts are different from your other companion."
Kael turned, studying the flickering presence of Gyra beside him. He felt stronger. Wiser. Yet more burdened.
"Thank you," he said to Ezra, voice low.
Ezra only smiled and turned back to the fire. "Your path is beginning, Kael. But know this—two spirits means twice the calling. And not all who bear that weight survive it."
---