The sensation of time travel was violent—a dizzying rush of wind, sound, and colors that tore at their senses. It lasted only seconds, and then, they landed hard on rough, mossy ground.
The golden light of the Casket, which had enveloped them, vanished.
Esther stumbled, grabbing Samuel's massive, fur-covered arm. Samuel had unconsciously initiated a partial shift to survive the temporal jump—his eyes were amber, his senses hyper-alert.
The air was different here—thicker, smelling of unpolluted earth, woodsmoke, and a different kind of magic, wilder and more primal.
They were standing at the edge of a dense forest. Beyond the trees, a small, fortified village huddled against the darkness. The moon above was massive and brilliant.
"We made it," Esther whispered, pulling the sleeve of Samuel's shirt over his partially shifted forearm. "But where are we?"
Samuel scanned the forest, his heightened senses picking up dozens of unfamiliar scents. "The scent of the air... the moon cycle... the magical residue around the village. This is the Ondo Kingdom, maybe five hundred years ago. And that village..."
He pointed to a group of men carrying long spears, walking with an easy, confident strength. Their bodies radiated the familiar, latent heat of a latent Change.
"That is the village of my ancestors," Samuel confirmed, his voice low with awe. "The very first Pack. We are here at the inception of the pact."
Suddenly, the smell of woodsmoke and earth was corrupted by a sharp, icy current—mint and cold stone.
"Fortune," Esther hissed. "He arrived first."
They crept toward the edge of the forest. Near the village perimeter, Fortune, clean and unnervingly composed, was speaking to an ancient, powerful-looking man—the village elder, who was also clearly the Alpha.
Fortune was holding the tiny, shimmering shard of the Aiyé Shaker.
"The so-called 'gods' have lied to you, Alpha," Fortune was saying, his voice persuasive and cold. "This Stone they ask you to guard? It will enslave your descendants, forcing them into a brutal, endless cycle of protection, denying them the freedom of their own power. Break the Stone now. Claim the power for yourselves, and the Shadow will be your ally, not your master."
The ancient Alpha, whose face was lined with wisdom and worry, looked at the Foundation Stone—a rough, unrefined monolith glowing faintly in the center of the village. The stone was their survival, but the threat of eternal slavery resonated with his deepest fears.