We emerged from the remnants of Darrowmere like warriors baptized in fire and sorrow. The victory had been narrow, costly. Each step away from the ruins was heavy with the memories of what had been lost—and the haunting knowledge of what still remained.
The shard of the Queen's power we destroyed had only been the beginning.
Aria walked beside me, her expression unreadable. Her strength had returned, though the light in her eyes now flickered between hope and foreboding. Something about Darrowmere had unsettled her, and as we trekked through the silent trees, she remained uncharacteristically quiet.
The others in our group—Rhys's cousin Varyn, the twins Milla and Kael, and Fen the scout—moved with caution. No one spoke unless necessary. The energy in the air was too tense. We all knew it: we had stepped into a war not just for our survival, but for the soul of the world.
Back at the Hollow, the celebrations were muted. Joy had begun to blossom in our people again after Aria's return, but news of the corrupted spire at Darrowmere had reminded everyone that the Queen's echo still lingered.
I convened the Council that night.
"The fight is no longer just ours," I told them, my voice gravelly from ash and exhaustion. "The Queen left behind more than shadows. She left wounds. In the land, in the minds of people, in the magic itself. We either chase her remnants to extinction, or wait for them to rise and consume us again."
Councilor Alun, the oldest of the seers, nodded slowly. "The old magics have awakened. The balance of the realms is off-kilter. If these shards persist, the rift between realms may reopen."
"Then we close it," Aria said, stepping into the circle. "Permanently."
She looked at me, not as a broken girl finding her way—but as a queen in her own right. Something had shifted in her.
After the meeting, we walked together beneath the silver canopy of stars.
"I saw something in Darrowmere," she confessed. "When the shard pulsed… I saw the Queen. Not as we knew her, but as she once was. Human. Fragile. Abandoned. Her pain—it's… endless."
I swallowed. "Do you pity her?"
"No," Aria whispered. "But I understand her now. And that terrifies me."
We kissed that night not as lovers seeking comfort, but as warriors sealing a vow. That whatever came next—we would face it together.
—
The following week was spent mapping the potential locations of other shards. According to the seers, there were at least five more.
One in the Hollowing Caves of the North.
Another buried beneath the sands of the Crimson Dunes.
A third in the oceanic ruins near the Siren Isles.
A fourth hidden in the Forgotten Marshes.
And the last… possibly within the roots of the World Tree itself.
Each shard had to be purged. Each would fight back.
We set our sights on the Hollowing Caves first.
The journey was treacherous. Cliffs and ravines carved through mountainous terrain. Cold that bit into our bones. Snow that concealed death at every turn. We were joined by a new warrior—Soren, a mountain wolf with a scar over one blind eye, who claimed to know the caves better than anyone.
He guided us for three days through narrow passes and echoing tunnels. Our fire barely held the darkness at bay. Strange sounds haunted the caverns—scrapes and wails that seemed neither beast nor wind.
On the fourth night, we found the shard.
It hovered in a massive underground chamber, suspended above a chasm, pulsing with violet light. Bones littered the floor, and whispers crept through the air like breath on our necks.
Soren stopped us. "This is worse than Darrowmere. The shard has merged with a creature—a phoenix corrupted by the Queen's essence. It has nested here. It's guarding the shard."
"A phoenix?" I asked. "A creature of rebirth?"
He nodded. "Now reborn in pain."
We stepped forward, weapons drawn.
The phoenix rose from the chasm with a scream that could split mountains. Its feathers were like molten glass, glowing with a sickly hue. Fire rained from its wings. It dove at us, and the battle began.
Milla and Kael flanked it, throwing enchanted nets to entangle its wings. Aria summoned flame to meet flame, her fire colliding with the beast's in a clash of power. I shifted into wolf-form and lunged, tearing at the corrupted flesh beneath its plumage.
Varyn struck its heart with silver-tipped arrows. Soren chanted in the old tongue, calling on mountain spirits for aid.
The phoenix fought like a god.
For hours, the battle raged. My limbs ached, my fur singed. Aria screamed as a wing struck her, knocking her across the chamber. Blood painted the rocks.
But she rose.
She always did.
And then—her fire turned blue. Pure. Cleansing. It wrapped around the phoenix in a spiral of light. The creature screeched, and for a moment, I saw something in its eyes—release. Peace.
And it crumbled into ash.
The shard, now exposed, writhed. It attempted to flee, but Aria trapped it in a circle of fire. We all joined hands, chanting the rite of banishment. The shard dissolved into sparks.
Silence returned to the cave.
We collapsed together, breathless.
"That's two," Kael said.
"Five to go," Aria corrected, standing.
We returned to the Hollow as legends.
But fame brought its own curse.
Rumors spread of our deeds. Other packs began to seek us out—not just to aid, but to challenge. Some didn't believe in the Queen's corruption. Others thought the shards were sacred. A cult began to rise—the Ashen Faith—worshippers of the Queen's power.
They struck one night.
The Hollow burned.
We fought them off, but not without loss. Soren died defending the eastern ridge. Varyn lost an arm. The moonstone altar shattered.
Aria stood in the ruins, screaming into the night.
We rebuilt.
We always did.
But the war had changed. It was no longer just us against the remnants of the Queen. It was now a war of belief. Of hope versus despair.
One evening, Aria called a gathering.
"We cannot win this alone," she declared. "We must unite the scattered packs. Call upon the old alliances. The Dryads of the Vale. The Sirens. Even the Shadow Clans. If the Queen's essence is reforming, we must counter it with unity she never had."
There were murmurs of protest.
"The Sirens betrayed us during the Flood Wars!" someone shouted.
"We cannot trust the Clans of Shadow!" another cried.
But Aria silenced them.
"If we continue to let old wounds fester, we will become her. Broken. Isolated. Ruled by pain. We must be better."
And for the first time, I saw our people listen.
Really listen.
That night, as the stars returned above, I sat alone.
Aria joined me, slipping her fingers into mine.
"You still believe in me?" she asked.
"More than ever," I said. "You're not just the girl I saved. You're the fire that keeps me alive."
She kissed me, slow and deep.
"We'll win this," she whispered.
And I believed her.
Even as the wind carried whispers from the Queen's realm.
Even as the shadows stretched further than before.
Because this was no longer just a fight for vengeance.
It was a fight for the world.
For love.
For a future.
And we would not falter.