Snow greeted us at the border of the frost line. Wind lashed across the ridge, howling like some ancient beast in mourning. It tore through the trees, sweeping flakes of white across the worn path, half-erased by time and memory. Each step crunched with purpose, but also hesitation. We were leaving one war behind and stepping into the ghosts of another.
Aria walked beside me, her cloak pulled tight against the cold, the fur-lined hood casting shadows across her face. I watched her out of the corner of my eye. Her steps were slower, burdened not by exhaustion, but by the weight of what she had seen—what she had become.
Her magic had changed everything. Not just the Hollow. Not just the battle. It had stirred something ancient. Something the world hoped would never awaken.
Rhys walked ahead, ever vigilant. His blade still bore the dark stains of the Hunters. His limp had worsened, but he never complained. Behind him, our warriors marched in grim silence, eyes darting into the trees, noses twitching at every flicker of scent. We were in Seer territory now, and that meant we were already being watched.
I had not returned to the frost line since the exile. Since the day they cast me out for defying the Elders. For protecting those they called cursed. Like Aria. Like the children born under eclipses and storms.
They feared what they could not control. And they feared me.
As the slope flattened into a clearing veiled in mist, I slowed, lifting a hand. Rhys stopped. The others followed suit. Silence pressed around us again, the kind that wasn't natural. The kind that meant something waited.
"We're being tracked," Rhys muttered.
"I know," I replied. "Let them come."
Aria's voice was calm, but sharp. "They're here already."
I turned just as they stepped into view—cloaked figures in white and gray, their eyes glowing faint violet. The Seers.
The one in front was tall, her face hidden behind a mask of bone. She raised a hand. Light shimmered around us, and the world dimmed, color draining from the trees, the sky, even our skin.
A vision veil.
The magic paralyzed our pack, but not me. Not completely. The Seer's eyes narrowed.
"Alpha," she said. "You were warned never to return."
"And yet here I am."
"Why?"
I stepped aside and gestured to Aria. "Because of her."
The Seer turned her gaze to Aria. For a long moment, nothing moved. Then the Seer flinched.
"The Flame," she breathed.
Aria straightened. "I need your help. There's something coming. Something ancient. I saw it in the Hollow. The Cage of Nightmares."
The Seer's mask tilted slightly. "And what do you intend to do about it, child of fire?"
"Fight it," Aria said. "Seal it again, if I can. But I need to understand what I am. What this power means."
The Seer stared at her for a long, tense moment, then turned to me.
"You were right to come. But your presence threatens the balance. If you cross the inner sanctum, the Elders will act."
"Let them."
The Seer didn't answer. She simply turned and walked back into the trees. We followed.
The forest deepened as we moved. No snow touched the ground here, though it should have. The trees grew twisted, branches woven like fingers in prayer. Blue light flickered in the underbrush, will-o'-wisps dancing with curiosity or menace.
Then the Sanctum appeared.
A ring of stones, smooth and ancient, pulsing with old power. The sky above it was clear, even though we hadn't seen the stars all night. And in the center stood a pillar of ice, tall and jagged, glowing faintly with trapped light.
The Seers gathered around it, murmuring in their strange tongue.
The lead Seer spoke again. "This is the Heart Ice. Touch it, and you will see."
Aria stepped forward, hesitant. Her hand hovered over the ice, breath fogging before her. Then she pressed her palm against it.
Light exploded.
She gasped. Her body jerked. I rushed forward, but a Seer held me back.
"She's safe," the Seer said. "She's remembering."
Inside the ice, shapes moved—memories not hers, not mine, not anyone's. Ancient scenes. Battles beneath bleeding skies. A woman with silver eyes kneeling over a shattered world. A crown of black thorns. A door of bone, chained in starlight.
Then a voice, deep and resonant, filled the air.
"She must choose. Fire or shadow. Light or hunger. The seal weakens."
The ice cracked.
Aria stumbled back, eyes wide. Her hands trembled.
"I saw her," she whispered. "The Queen. She's close. Closer than we thought."
"Where?" I asked.
"In the blood forest. She's building a gate. She wants to open the Cage."
The Seer's face darkened. "Then the final war has begun."
I turned to the pack. "We leave at dawn. We'll take the eastern pass."
"It's suicide," Rhys said. "Too exposed."
"Then we fight exposed. The Queen expects us to hide. We'll bring the war to her."
Aria stepped beside me. "We do this together."
And so it was decided. As the stars wheeled above us and the Seers vanished into mist, I felt the weight of fate settle on my shoulders. I had carried many burdens in my life—but never one so heavy.
Not just the fate of my pack.
Not just Aria.
The world.
And as dawn crept in, burning gold across the horizon, I felt a fire grow inside me.
A promise.
She would not fall.
I would not fail.
Even if it meant facing death itself.