The tension on the cliffside was thick enough to choke on. The wind carried the scent of rock dust and pine, tugging at cloaks and hair while both sides measured each other in silence. Eliakim was ready to draw his blade if needed, but something shifted before the first strike could be made.
The leader of the adventurer band spat in the dirt."We're done with you, Dulane. Just stay out of our sight."It was clear they'd vented enough venom to satisfy themselves. Without another word, they turned and disappeared along the ridge path, leaving only their muttering behind.
Varek stood frozen, still pale from the confrontation. Then, unexpectedly, his shoulders slumped—not in fear, but in a strange kind of relief. He turned to Eliakim and Gideon, his voice trembling.
"I… I don't deserve this, but… thank you. Both of you. For not letting that turn into blood."
Eliakim simply tilted his head, eyes narrowed. Gideon crossed his arms but said nothing.
Varek swallowed hard, took a deep breath—and then it happened.A faint whisper of smoke began to coil out from his chest, right over his heart. It shimmered faintly, taking on the vague shape of a chained spirit before snapping free and racing upward into the thin mountain air. A hollow, almost mournful note lingered as it vanished completely.
Varek gasped, grabbing his head like a man waking from a fever dream. His eyes seemed clearer, his stance less… heavy.
"Gods above," he muttered, voice shaking. "I feel… lighter. Like I've been walking under water for years and finally broke the surface."
And then, without warning, he lunged forward and hugged both Eliakim and Gideon at once—arms crushing them in a comically exaggerated grip.
"You boys are the reason I'm breathing different air today! I swear I'll never be the same man I was!"
Gideon growled, trying to pry himself free.Eliakim raised a brow. "If you ever do that again, Dulane, I'll tie you to your own wagon wheels."
Varek quickly let go, clearing his throat. "Ah—right. Sorry. I, ah… may have gotten carried away."
He reached into his coat and withdrew a silver-gold ring etched with faintly glowing runes.
"This," Varek said, his tone suddenly serious, "is the Ring of Galveryn. It can hold any amount of goods—food, tools, weapons, even animals if they're willing. It's been mine for decades, bound to my blood. But…"
He held it out toward Eliakim.
"It belongs with someone who walks straighter than I ever have."
With deliberate care, Varek spoke the words of dissolution, his pact with the ring unraveling like smoke in the wind. When the glow faded, Eliakim slid the ring onto his finger.
A low hum resonated through the air, the ring's magic acknowledging its new master.From now onward, no other soul could command it.
By mid-afternoon, the cliff road gave way to rolling amber plains dotted with wildflowers and stone outcroppings. The sun hung low, casting long golden shadows across the grass. Skyling soared high above, her sharp cries echoing faintly in the distance.
Her voice carried into Eliakim's mind.
"Movement ahead. Many shapes. Wolves. Not the small kind."
Eliakim slowed his steps, squinting toward the horizon. A ripple of dark shapes moved through the grass, their silver eyes catching the light—a full pack of dire wolves, easily two dozen strong.
Varek's face drained of color. Without a word, he clambered into the back of his wagon, yanking a blanket over himself like a frightened child.
Gideon cracked his knuckles and hefted his axes.
"I've been wanting to test these against something with teeth."
Eliakim scanned the surroundings: tall grass for concealment, a pair of crumbling stone pillars from some ancient ruin, and the wagon itself—loaded with rope, oil, and a few crates of dried goods.
A plan began to form.
"They outnumber us. So… let's make the numbers work for us instead."
His eyes glinted. "We use the pillars as choke points, the wagon as bait, and fire to break their nerve. Wolves fear more than claws—they fear chaos."
Gideon grinned like a man who already smelled the fight.
"Lead the way."
The wind carried the first low growl across the plains. The hunt was about to begin.