The forest called to him long before he saw it.
It wasn't the rustle of branches or the scent of pine. It was deeper — a pulse beneath his skin, a whisper in the blood.
Riven felt it too, wings shifting uneasily as the raven circled above him. Fenra padded ahead, silent as snowfall, her silver fur almost luminous under the morning light.
Lyra had vanished into the Ashenwild nearly a fortnight ago. Since then, Kael hadn't slept properly. The Wardens' arrival had turned Cinder into a place of suspicion and silence. Anyone venturing beyond the palisade was questioned.
Kael had left under the pretense of hunting — a half-truth. His bow was slung across his back, but he hunted only one thing: the girl who had awakened his understanding of the wild.
The further he traveled, the thicker the forest grew. Branches arched overhead like ribs of some vast creature. Strange flowers bloomed from the shadows, petals glimmering faintly in the dim light. Here, the ordinary world of Cinder seemed far away — this was the true Ashenwild, ancient and half alive.
Riven swooped down, perching on a low branch.Tracks ahead, the raven rasped through the bond.
Kael knelt and brushed his hand across the soft loam. Faint footprints — human — half-faded by rain. They led east, toward the old river.
"Good," Kael murmured. "She's still out here."
Fenra's ears twitched, and Kael felt her unease ripple through their bond. Not alone, she warned.
He straightened slowly. At first he saw nothing — then the shadows moved.
Figures stepped from between the trees: two men and a woman, each cloaked in moss-colored leather, eyes marked with green paint. Druids, but not of Lyra's circle. Their movements were wary, silent, and Kael sensed tension coiled beneath their calm.
"Hold, stranger," said the woman. "You tread in the Greenwood's sacred shade."
"I'm looking for someone," Kael replied carefully. "A druid — Lyra of the Circle."
The woman's expression tightened. "You should not speak that name so freely."
Kael's pulse quickened. "Why? What happened?"
"The Circle was attacked," said one of the men. "By Wardens — and something worse. We found no survivors."
Kael felt as though the ground had dropped away beneath him. "No," he whispered. "She—she can't be—"
"Move," hissed Fenra suddenly, her growl vibrating through the clearing.
Something dark shot between the trees — a blur of mist and bone. The druids shouted as shadowy tendrils whipped through the air, striking one of them to the ground. The forest erupted into chaos.
Kael drew his bow without thought. His mark flared silver, and the nearest tendril shrieked, recoiling. The creature emerged fully — a warped shape like a stag, but twisted, antlers dripping black resin. Its eyes glowed sickly green.
"Ash-born," one druid gasped. "The corruption!"
Fenra lunged, teeth flashing. Riven dove, striking at the creature's eyes. Kael's arrow followed — silver-lit, guided by instinct more than aim. It struck true, and the beast howled, collapsing into smoke that hissed away into the soil.
When silence returned, the druids were staring at him.At the mark burning on his hand.At the animals standing beside him like guardians.
"What are you?" one whispered.
Kael lowered his bow. "A friend," he said. "And I need to find her."
The woman hesitated. "If Lyra lives, she would have fled east — to the Heartglade. But be warned, Beastbinder. The forest remembers those who walk with too many spirits."
Kael almost asked how she knew that word — Beastbinder — but before he could speak, they were gone, melting into the woods like smoke.
He looked down at his hand. The mark still pulsed faintly, alive. "Come on," he said to Fenra and Riven. "We're close."
They reached the Heartglade by nightfall.
Moonlight poured through an opening in the canopy, bathing a pool of clear water in silver. It was beautiful, untouched — yet Kael felt something wrong beneath its stillness.
A whisper reached him across the bond. Kael…
He spun, bow raised — then froze.
Lyra stood across the pool, pale and hollow-eyed, her staff glowing faintly green. Her robes were torn, streaked with ash. But she was alive.
Relief surged through him. "Lyra!"
She smiled weakly. "You shouldn't have come."
"Couldn't let you vanish," he said, stepping closer. "The Wardens—"
"I know," she interrupted. "They're burning what they don't understand. But something older than them has awakened. The forest bleeds because something beneath it stirs."
"The corruption," Kael murmured.
Lyra nodded. "And it's tied to you."
Kael blinked. "Me?"
"To your bond," she said softly. "Your power isn't new, Kael. It's old — older than the Wardens' laws, older than Cinder itself. The Beastbinder blood has returned."
Riven croaked uneasily. Fenra's ears flattened.
"What does that mean?" Kael asked.
Lyra's gaze held his, steady and sad. "It means the world will fear you."