Lira's smile faded as Kael turned away from the river.
He walked deeper into the forest, each step heavy, deliberate, as if the world itself resisted his presence.
But she followed him.
Not closely.
Not fearlessly.
But she followed.
Kael didn't look back, yet he felt her behind him—soft footsteps, uneven breathing. A warmth he wasn't used to.
The shadows hissed in warning.
**She is weakness.
She will betray you.
Leave her.
Kill her.**
Kael ignored them.
For the first time in his life, he didn't obey the voice of the darkness.
After a while, Lira spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Are you… hungry?"
Kael stopped.
The question hit him harder than any blade.
Lira's eyes widened when he turned. His expression was calm—and empty, but his gaze burned with something restless.
"…yes," he finally answered.
She looked relieved that he responded at all. "My village isn't far. Maybe they can—"
"No."
His voice cut through her hope like a knife.
"They fear me."
Her lips pressed together in a small, sad line. "People fear what they don't understand."
"They understand enough," Kael muttered. "They saw me kill."
"You protected them!" she insisted.
Kael's jaw tightened. "I killed without hesitation."
Lira fell silent.
Kael walked on. But after several steps, he said quietly—so quietly one might miss it:
"…I do not know how to be anything else."
Lira froze.
Those words weren't cold—they were wounded.
When she caught up again, she held out something wrapped in cloth: a piece of stale bread.
Kael stared at it as if it were a weapon.
"I… took it before I left," she whispered. "For you."
He didn't move.
The wind rustled between them.
Finally, Kael reached out slowly, hesitating like someone touching fire for the first time. His fingers brushed hers—cold meeting warm.
A spark shot through him.
Not magical—human.
He hated how unfamiliar it felt.
He took the bread.
He didn't say thank you.
He didn't know how.
But he ate it.
Lira smiled softly as he did, her shoulders relaxing as if she had achieved something impossible.
Then the forest shifted.
Kael's head snapped up.
The shadows recoiled violently.
Something was coming.
Something dangerous.
Lira sensed it too. "K-Kael…?"
Kael grabbed her wrist, pulling her behind him. His shadows rose like spears, ready to strike.
A deep growl echoed from the trees.
Then red eyes emerged—half a dozen pairs—circling them.
**Wraithwolves.**
Creatures of corrupted magic, larger than any normal wolf, bodies stitched with shadow and bone. Their teeth gleamed like obsidian, dripping black ichor.
Lira trembled behind him. "W-We're surrounded…"
Kael's eyes narrowed, glowing brighter. "Stay behind me."
The wolves crept closer, claws digging into the earth.
Kael felt the shadows inside him coil eagerly—hungry, restless, craving blood.
He raised his hand.
"Let them come."
The first wolf lunged.
Kael moved like a blade of night—silent, fast, deadly. Shadows exploded from his body, spearing the creature mid-air and tearing it apart before it touched the ground.
Lira screamed.
Kael didn't.
More wolves attacked from all sides.
Kael met them with ruthless precision, shadows slicing through limbs and bone. Darkness wrapped around his arms like armor, his eyes burning with inhuman fury.
But for every wolf he killed, more crawled from the mist.
Too many.
The shadows inside him strained, swallowing more energy than his body could handle.
Kael faltered.
A wolf leapt toward Lira.
Kael turned instantly—
—but he wasn't fast enough.
"LIRA!"
He dove forward, shadows failing to form in time—
—and just as the wolf's jaws closed around her—
Lira raised her pendant.
A burst of silver light erupted.
The wolf shrieked and recoiled, its flesh burning where the light touched it.
Kael froze.
Light magic.
Lira held her necklace against her chest, panting, terrified.
"I-I don't know what it is," she sputtered, "but it reacts when I'm scared."
Kael stared at her.
The girl he had protected
could protect herself.
But the wolves weren't done.
And Kael had no shadows left.
"Kael…" Lira whispered, trembling. "What do we do?"
Kael stepped in front of her again—unarmed, drained, yet unyielding.
"We survive," he said.
And the wolves closed in.