Written by: Chris Chret © 2026
Eldershade Wilds – The Solitude of the Beast
Lorian sat off to the side.
Separated from the group.
Alone.
The place beside him was empty.
Too empty.
There was no wolf.
Only memories — and rage.
His gaze was fixed on the distance, but his thoughts were on the shore.
On the battle.
On the moment when blood melted into sand.
On the sound he would never forget — the final breath of the creature that never abandoned him.
His teeth clenched.
His hands trembled.
The people around him watched him from the corner of their eyes.
Not as a child.
Not as a human.
As something else.
As a monster.
They avoided him.
Stepped aside when he passed.
Whispered.
And that only made him angrier.
Footsteps.
The leader of the group came and sat beside him, without asking.
"You've become much stronger," he said calmly.
Lorian didn't even turn.
"Move away.
I don't need your opinion."
His voice was sharp. Aggressive.
That was already his nature.
The leader wasn't offended.
On the contrary — he liked it.
"You're still not strong enough to stand in my way," he continued. "You need more time."
That was enough.
Lorian stood up abruptly.
With all his strength — he struck the tree beside him.
CRACK.
The bark shattered.
Blood ran down his palm.
He didn't flinch.
"I'm not now," he said, his voice burning. "But I will be.
I will be the strongest in this group."
With his bloodied hand, he gestured around.
"If anyone thinks I'm weak…
let them step forward."
His voice rose.
His eyes shone wildly.
Silence.
No one moved.
Until one man stepped forward.
"Don't think you're strong," he said coldly. "And don't think you'll get through this without consequences."
Lorian smiled.
Aggression surged.
Adrenaline hit him like fire.
"Show me," he said. "How you'll do it."
The man pulled out a double-bladed axe —
and threw it.
Lorian dropped to one knee.
The axe buried itself into the tree behind him.
In the same moment, the man was already charging —
with the second axe in his hand.
Lorian drew the needle-sword.
One step.
Evasion.
The next moment — he was behind him.
So fast that the people froze.
The needle-sword emerged from the man's chest.
Straight through the heart.
Lorian pulled out the small knife and turned the man's face toward him.
His eyes were empty.
Cold.
Without mercy.
"All those who run madly and bark…
do not bite."
He cut his throat.
Blood splashed across his face.
But he didn't stop.
He stabbed the body again.
And again.
Then he began punching.
Kicking.
Beating the dead body.
Furiously.
While the leader watched — and smiled.
These were the kind of people he wanted.
The leader didn't flinch.
He hadn't expected this.
Not this fast.
"Deeper than I thought," he thought.
"This isn't just rage — this is something forged over years."
His gaze lingered on the boy's blood-soaked hands.
"He must remain like this."
He knew that was why he provoked him.
Why he didn't stop him.
Beasts are not tamed.
They are unleashed.
Lorian finally stopped.
Bloody.
Wounded.
"I AM ALONE!" he shouted.
"I don't need any of you!"
Everyone was silent.
"You're weak because you depend on each other!
I'm here because I want to become stronger — and I'm doing it!"
His voice trembled.
"No one can defeat me as long as I have a reason to live!
If I die by someone's hand… I'll drag them with me!"
Silence.
Then — footsteps from the forest.
A new group emerged between the trees.
"We want to join you."
The leader looked at them.
"How did you hear about us?"
"It's being spoken of throughout all of Ashkar," they answered. "You won.
You are exactly what we were looking for."
The people in the group looked at one another.
No one smiled.
Joining was easy.
Surviving — was not.
The leader smiled.
He raised his sword.
"To the new allies.
And to the new era that is coming."
"FOR THE NEW ERA!" everyone shouted.
Lorian was already walking away.
Bloody.
Alone.
Something burned in his chest, older than rage.
A name he never spoke aloud.
Edric.
"One day we will meet," he thought.
"And then… I won't be a child who runs."
His fingers clenched into fists.
"I will have my revenge. For everything."
Skeldor – The Quiet Fury
King Kaelric Frostborne sat upright.
Around him:
Gregoryan Frostborne — The White Beast
Astrid Frostborne — The Ice Princess
Lord Razen Vaelstrom
And other lords, advisors, knights.
"We have lost two battles in a short time," the king said.
Gregoryan lowered his head.
"We will remain still now," Kaelric continued. "No one can breach our defenses."
Everyone agreed.
Except one.
Gregoryan raised his hand.
"I cannot remain still," he said. "I want revenge against Serpentis.
I will wait for the knights to recover — but no longer."
Whispers.
Madness.
Defiance of the king.
Kaelric stood.
"If you are my son, you have no authority to interrupt me," he said sharply.
"I have made my decision."
Gregoryan clenched his jaw.
"My apologies, my king," his voice was cold. "It won't happen again.
If you're finished… I'm going to rest."
He turned and left.
"You are dismissed," the king said.
The door closed behind him with a dull sound.
Gregoryan clenched his teeth.
"Who are you to give me orders…"
he thought.
"If you are king — and if you are my father —
it does not mean you have the right to humiliate me before everyone."
The image of defeat returned.
Serpentis.
Alaric.
The shame burned more than the wounds.
"I will have my revenge," he told himself.
"At any cost."
His eyes narrowed.
"Wait for me, Alaric.
This will not end like this."
Dunemar – The Iron Queen
Ragna Vornak, the Iron Queen, stood before her group.
The people were gathered.
The discussion revolved around a single question — whether they should head toward the group in the Eldershade Wilds forest.
"We are not going to them," Ragna said.
"They are not human.
They are not honorable."
She spoke of Fallen Pine.
Of the rapes.
Of the burnings.
Of the gallows.
Of the live burials.
"I will not form an alliance with such people," she finished. "Whoever wishes to leave, the gates are open."
Several people left.
The rest stayed — supporting her, following her, agreeing with the decision.
Vaelric Frostborne remained silent.
Every word he heard felt distant.
His mind was in Skeldor.
With his brother.
A smile appeared — quiet, bitter.
He was free.
But not forgotten.
Seventeen years in chains do not disappear.
They are remembered.
"Some debts are paid in blood,"
he thought.
And he knew — the day would come.
End of Chapter 23