Ash shifted mid-strike.
His body twisted violently, bones cracking as fur erupted across his skin. His massive black wolf form landed between Aria and the charging beasts, teeth bared, golden eyes glowing like wildfire. The creatures lunged at him, shrieking with unearthly voices.
Aria didn't back away.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. The bloodstone may have been taken, but something else had awakened inside her—burning hot and ancient. She could feel it rising from her chest like heat in her veins.
A shadow beast broke from the left and charged her. She raised her hands in pure instinct.
A flash of blinding white fire exploded from her fingertips.
The creature let out a piercing wail as it dissolved mid-air into dust and smoke. Aria stumbled back, gasping. Her hands tingled with residual heat.
"What was that?" she whispered.
Ash looked at her, stunned—even mid-fight. The distraction nearly cost him; a beast sank claws into his flank. He snarled and spun, jaws snapping down on the creature's throat.
Aria didn't wait.
She ran toward the altar—the place where she'd first awoken. As she neared, the cracked stone shimmered with a faint red glow. She pressed her palm to it.
Pain shot through her arm.
Visions poured into her mind. A great war between wolves and shadow walkers. An ancient pact sealed with blood and flame. A woman with her face… standing at the center of it all.
Not her.
Her ancestor.
The Flamebearer.
Aria gasped and fell to her knees. Around her, the forest pulsed with light. The flames in her blood ignited again—brighter, more controlled this time. Her fear turned into focus.
Back in the clearing, Ash was slowing.
Blood dripped from several wounds. He was still fighting, but even he couldn't keep going forever. The beasts kept coming—like they were endless. But suddenly, the temperature dropped.
The air shimmered with pressure.
And then…
Everything stopped.
The shadow beasts froze mid-motion. The masked figure stepped forward, lifting their hand. The red moon above dimmed.
"You weren't meant to awaken yet," the voice rasped. "But now that you have… the realms will burn."
Aria stood slowly, her eyes glowing bright gold-white. "Then let them burn."
The masked figure hesitated.
Ash shifted back into human form, barely standing. "Aria, don't—"
But she was already moving.
Aria stepped forward and raised her hand. The mark on her shoulder—the one from the bloodstone—blazed like a star. Flame exploded from her palm, striking the masked figure directly in the chest.
They screamed.
The earth trembled.
The beasts writhed and collapsed into ash. The sky roared. A crack spread through the air itself, like glass fracturing.
The figure stumbled back, one hand clutching their chest. Their silver mask shattered, revealing—
Nothing.
A void. No face. No soul.
"You don't know what you've done," it hissed. "You've doomed him."
And then it vanished—swallowed by its own darkness.
Silence.
Aria turned to Ash.
He was kneeling now, chest heaving. Blood stained his skin, but his eyes were on her—wide, awestruck, afraid.
She dropped to her knees beside him. "Ash—"
"You used the Flame," he said hoarsely. "You… you shouldn't be able to."
"I didn't mean to," she whispered. "But I saw something. A woman. She looked like me."
Ash nodded slowly. "The First Flame. It's in your bloodline. It's what they were after all along. Not you… your legacy."
Aria touched his face gently. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't know until it was too late."
A wind swept through the clearing. The candles were snuffed out. The forest had gone quiet—too quiet.
Ash gripped her hand. "We need to leave. They'll come back. Stronger."
She nodded, but a single thought haunted her as she looked at the cracked altar:
If this was only the beginning… what kind of war was coming?
To be continued…