By dawn, the Cradle of Spirits had grown silent once more. The shimmering particles left behind by the Guardian had finally faded, leaving the ancient chamber feeling emptier, colder, heavier. Aeryn stood before the massive stone archway carved with twisting runes, his cloak fluttering gently as the morning breeze reached into the hollow.
He took one last look behind him.
Where the Guardian once manifested, nothing remained—only faint scorch marks on the stone floor where his flames had burned brightest. The memory of its final words lingered in his mind like an echo he couldn't shake. Seek the Heartforge. Beware the king's shadow.
The responsibility pressed against his ribs like a weight. Not crushing, but undeniable.
A hand nudged his shoulder from behind.
"You're doing that thing again," Liora muttered.
Aeryn blinked. "What thing?"
"The thing where you stare dramatically into the distance and pretend you're not worrying about everything at once."
"…I do that?"
"Yes," Mira said while walking past them, adjusting her staff. "Constantly. It's becoming a personality trait."
Eldreon, already tightening the straps on his armor, sighed. "Aeryn, if you're going to collapse under the weight of fate, at least wait until we've packed our supplies."
Aeryn snorted. "Good morning to you too."
The tension in his chest loosened a little. He didn't deserve companions like this—steadfast, blunt, loyal—but he was grateful for them.
They began their journey northward, leaving the Cradle behind as sunlight broke through the sky in long golden streaks. The air outside was crisp and cold, carrying the smell of distant snow. Aeryn pulled his cloak tighter around him and took in the landscape.
The northern path stretched into a wilderness of towering granite cliffs and sprawling forests of dark pinewood. A faint mist clung to the ground. Frost glittered at the edges of leaves and stones. Somewhere in the far distance, thunder murmured—a slow, brooding rumble like a sleeping beast.
Liora inhaled deeply. "I've never been this far north. I didn't know it would be… well, freezing."
Eldreon began walking, spear in hand. "This is only the beginning. By next week, you'll pray for this warmth."
"Warmth?" Mira said, horrified. "This is warmth?"
Aeryn chuckled.
But beneath the lighthearted banter, he remained alert. The Guardian's warning echoed in his thoughts with every step. The king's shadow walks ahead of you.
Something was waiting for them out here. Something ancient and malevolent.
They had only walked for two hours when Aeryn suddenly stopped.
Eldreon noticed immediately. "What is it?"
Aeryn's senses sharpened. His flames—still faintly fused with the Guardian's remnants—reacted to something. A pulse in the air. Faint, rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat.
"I feel… something," Aeryn whispered. "Ahead."
Liora stiffened. "Corruption?"
"No. Not corruption."
Something else. Something watching.
Eldreon gripped his spear tighter. "Stay close."
They moved through the thickening mist until shapes began to appear in the distance. At first, Aeryn thought they were boulders. But as they approached, he realized they were ancient statues—massive stone figures half-buried in frost and vine.
Elven statues.
Their faces serene. Their eyes solemn. Their hands resting on blades crossed before them. Guardians of a forgotten era.
Mira shivered. "I don't like this place."
Aeryn approached the nearest statue. Its face was cracked, moss creeping along its jaw. He brushed his fingertips against the stone. It felt cold—unnaturally so. Chilly enough to make him flinch.
Liora stepped closer. "Do you sense something?"
Aeryn's breath wavered. "This statue… is resonating with the Leyline."
Eldreon frowned. "Meaning?"
Aeryn closed his eyes and reached inward. The System responded instantly, like a quiet hum beneath his consciousness. It filtered the sensation, amplified it, made sense of it.
A translucent screen flickered before him.
[Detection: Ancient Leywarden Presence]
[Status: Dormant]
[Warning: External force attempting to awaken dormant entity]
Aeryn opened his eyes sharply.
"Something is trying to wake these statues."
Before anyone could respond, a low, vibrating growl echoed through the trees.
The group spun around.
From the shadows of pines, a pale mist began to gather. The air cooled further. A shape emerged—first like a ripple in reality, then solidifying into something monstrous.
A wolf-like creature stepped into view—if a wolf could be twice the size of a horse, with fur like frostbitten glass and eyes glowing bright cyan. Its breath erupted in white plumes. Mist swirled with each exhale.
Mira stumbled back. "A—A Frostfang?"
Eldreon cursed under his breath. "No. Worse. Look at the markings on its legs."
Blue, crackling runes etched along the creature's limbs.
"It's corrupted by a Leyline anomaly," Aeryn realized.
The wolf snarled, lowering its massive head.
Its breath froze the grass instantly.
Aeryn felt the Guardian's flame stir in response.
Eldreon positioned himself in front of the group. "Form up. It's charging."
The Frostfang lunged.
Eldreon blocked the first strike with his spear, but the force sent him sliding backward across the ground. Liora dashed to his side, her daggers glowing faintly with wind-imbued enchantment. Mira raised her staff, runes spinning around her fingertips.
Aeryn stepped forward.
His heart pounded.
His flame responded.
But he moved carefully this time—no losing control, no blind surge of power. He remembered the Guardian's guidance. He steadied his breath, drawing magic with intention rather than desperation.
The beast lunged again.
Aeryn jumped back, conjuring a burst of heat beneath his feet. Flame spiraled up his arm, forming a glowing arc as he slashed through the air. The fire struck the wolf's flank, exploding against icy fur—but the Frostfang barely flinched.
"The flames aren't burning deep enough!" Aeryn warned.
"That thing has resistance," Eldreon shouted. "Aim for the runes!"
Aeryn adjusted.
The wolf spun its massive body, tail whipping out like a frozen blade. Aeryn ducked, narrowly dodging the strike. Liora darted behind the creature, slicing at the glowing runes on its hind legs. Sparks flew, but the rune held.
"Too thick," she breathed.
"Allow me!" Mira slammed her staff onto the ground.
A shockwave erupted. Frost shattered at the beast's feet as arcane energy surged upward. The wolf staggered, runes flickering for a moment.
Eldreon seized the opening. He thrust his spear forward with a roar, the tip glowing with raw force. The spear pierced one of the runes, cracking the ice-like marking.
The wolf screeched, a sound like shattering glaciers.
Aeryn saw his chance.
He drew in breath. His flames condensed. He focused everything into a single point, compressing heat until the air trembled.
And he unleashed it.
The fire didn't explode outward. It pierced.
A thin, concentrated beam of white flame shot from his palm—Ignis Thread. Newly awakened. Newly born.
The beam struck the wolf directly in the center of its chest—where a heart would be.
The Frostfang froze.
White cracks spread across its body like fractures in glass.
Then—
It shattered.
Fragments of frost scattered like glitter, dissolving into mist. The world fell silent again.
Aeryn exhaled slowly, lowering his hand.
Mira collapsed onto the cold grass. "I am… never… fighting one of those again."
Liora nudged Aeryn gently with her elbow. "That new spell was impressive."
Aeryn blinked. "Spell?"
"You just fired a needle of pure flame," Eldreon said, inspecting the scorched ground. "Controlled, precise, deadly."
Aeryn frowned. "I didn't know I could do that."
"The Guardian's flame is evolving with you," Mira said. "Or you're evolving with it."
Aeryn rubbed his chest, troubled. "Or something else is evolving because of me."
The others quieted.
He looked at the statues again.
The Leywarden presence had reacted to the corruption—and to him.
Something was stirring out here. Something much older than the Frostfang.
Eldreon broke the silence. "We should move. The noise will attract other beasts."
Aeryn nodded. "Right."
But as they prepared to leave, Aeryn caught something from the corner of his eye—a flicker of movement by the nearest statue.
He turned.
The statue's eyes—carved from dead stone—briefly glowed faint blue.
Just for a moment.
Aeryn's blood ran cold.
But when he blinked, the glow was gone.
"Aeryn? What is it?" Liora asked softly.
He hesitated.
"…Nothing. Let's go."
But the unease didn't fade.
As they resumed their march northward, Aeryn felt a phantom chill climb up his spine. Not from the cold winds—but from something unseen, something watching them from a place beyond the mist, where ancient stone giants slept with eyes that weren't quite closed.
The king's shadow walks ahead of you.
But what if part of that shadow had already begun to walk behind them as well?