The gate loomed above them—ancient wood reinforced with bone and stone, carved with sigils that pulsed faintly in the cold mountain air.
Violet stood before it, silver hair catching the wind like threads of moonlight. Eivor trembled beside her, his hand gripping the hilt of a blade he didn't know how to use.
The gatekeeper descended from the wall—
a massive figure, easily ten feet tall, wrapped in furs and leather armor.
His face was hidden beneath a wolf-skull helm, but his eyes—gold and piercing—locked onto Violet.
He didn't speak at first. Just stared.
Violet held his gaze.
"Do you know the weight of your words, child?" His voice was low, ancient, carrying the echo of stone grinding against stone.
Eivor flinched. Violet didn't.
"I do," she said simply.
The gatekeeper tilted his head. "Who are you? How do you know the Honour Call?"
Violet's lips curved faintly. "An old friend told me."
Silence.
Then the gatekeeper threw his head back and laughed—a booming, wild sound that sent birds scattering from the cliffs.
"I can smell lies, girl!" He stepped closer, crouching until they were eye-level. His breath misted in the cold. "But I am curious… whose this 'old friend' of a youngling like you?"
Violet said nothing, her violet eyes unwavering.
The gatekeeper grinned beneath his helm. "Well, anyway…" He straightened. "It's my duty to honour the call."
Before either could react, he reached down and plucked them both up—one in each massive hand—like fruits from a low branch.
"Wait—what—!" Eivor yelped.
The gatekeeper crouched, muscles coiling. Then he leaped.
The world blurred. Wind screamed past. Violet's stomach lurched as they soared over the gate—dozens of feet high—and landed on the other side with a thunderous impact that cracked the frozen ground.
Eivor turned green. Violet exhaled slowly, steadying herself.
The gatekeeper set them on his broad shoulders like trophies and began walking.
***
Violet's eyes scanned the valley as they moved deeper.
Tents stretched in every direction—hundreds of them—marked with totems and banners.
Fires crackled. The air smelled of smoke, roasted meat, and snow.
Beastkin of every shape moved through the camp: wolves, bears, leopards. Their eyes followed the gatekeeper as he passed.
"Has the Da'ar been chosen yet?" Violet asked quietly.
The gatekeeper chuckled. "Your old friend surely knows a lot about us."
He glanced back at her. "All three Ma'ar are getting ready for Dra-za-li"
Eivor looked at the large head beside him, "What isnDra-za-li."
The man grumbled "a battle for the seat of leader, of the coalition of tribes, against the conquest of the First Princess."
Violet's chest tightened. "Three-way battle?"
"Aye. Wooden spikes pointing inward. Sacred ground. Only one walks out as Da'ar."
Eivor brows lifted in awe "Woah! Now that's manly! So warrior like!"
But Violet wasn't impressed, she remembers the face Vael, the loneliness...
Her own experience, the night where she lost everything...
Her fingers curled into fists.
"They're fighting each other when they should be fleeing."
***
The gatekeeper stopped at the edge of a massive clearing.
A circular arena had been carved into the earth—fifty paces wide, ringed by sharpened stakes angled inward like teeth.
The ground inside was stained dark with old blood. Hundreds of Beastkin surrounded it, cheering, howling, drums pounding like war itself.
The gatekeeper landed at the arena's edge. All eyes turned.
A polar bear Beastkin—massive, scarred, missing an ear—stepped forward, snarling. "Why the fuck did you let a human close to the sacred ground of Dra-za-li?!"
The gatekeeper's voice cut through the noise. "She did the Honour Call for Da'ar."
Silence rippled outward.
"Honour Call?" someone whispered.
"A human?"
"Impossible…"
Then, from three sides of the arena, figures emerged.
***
Kari— stepped forward first—a snow leopard Beastkin, tall and lean, muscle coiled like wire beneath pale fur marked with dark rosettes.
Her armor was minimal—leather straps across her chest, steel gauntlets, a short spear strapped to her back. Her eyes were ice-blue, cold and calculating. Scars lined her arms like tally marks.
Her stance was that of a hunter: low, balanced, ready to pounce.
She looked like she was carved from winter itself.
The crowd roared her name.
***
Bara— entered next—a polar bear Beastkin, towering, broad as a boulder.
His head was shaved clean, a thick black beard braided with bone beads.
Tattoos covered his arms and chest—spirals and claws that seemed to move when he flexed.
His eyes were small, dark, dangerous. He wore no shirt, only a fur kilt and heavy iron bracers.
"BALD BEAR! BALD BEAR! BALD BEAR!" the crowd chanted.
Bara's roar shook the air. "STOP CALLING ME THAT!"
Laughter erupted.
***
Kael was last.
He moved like shadow—quiet, deliberate. A direwolf Beastkin, older than the others, but his presence commanded silence.
Long grey hair fell to his shoulders, tied back with leather cords. His face was weathered but handsome, sharp features softened only by the faint smile at the corner of his mouth.
His tattoos were different—ancient runes that glowed faintly silver, winding up his arms and across his chest like living lightning.
He carried no weapon. He didn't need one.
The crowd erupted.
Violet stared.
Her heart twisted.
That name.
Those eyes.
Vael's father.
***
Violet's gaze swept the crowd—and stopped.
A boy stood at the edge, barely thirteen, silver-grey hair wild and untamed, grey eyes bright with excitement. He wore simple furs, too big for his frame. His tail wagged as he jumped, fists raised.
"GIVE 'EM HELL, DA!" he screamed, voice cracking with youth.
Vael.
Violet's breath caught.
Tears blurred her vision.
Look at you… so happy.
No rage. No grief. No flames of revenge burning his sanity.
Just a boy cheering for his father.
Her hands trembled.
If only your smile stayed like this...
***
The three Ma'ar entered the ring.
Kari stretched lazily, her tail flicking. "Try not to die too quickly, old wolf."
Kael smiled faintly. "I'll try."
Bara cracked his knuckles. "I'll crush you both and eat your bones for breakfast."
Kari smirked. "Big words for a bald bear."
"I'M NOT—"
The gatekeeper slammed his staff into the ground. "DRA-ZA-LI BEGINS!"
***
They moved.
Bara charged first—a mountain of muscle and fury. His fist swung at Kari's head. She ducked, spun, her claws raking his ribs. Blood sprayed. He didn't flinch.
Kael circled, watching, waiting.
Bara's tattoos flared. His body twisted, bones cracking, flesh swelling. In seconds, he was gone—replaced by a massive polar bear, easily twice the size of a warhorse. His roar split the air.
Full morph.
Kari's tattoos glowed blue. Her body shifted—anthropomorphic, half-leopard, claws extending, fangs lengthening. Her eyes became slits of pure predator.
Kael's runes pulsed silver. Lightning crackled along his arms. His form shifted—direwolf features sharpening, muscles coiling with electric energy.
***
Bara lunged, jaws snapping.
Kari leaped, claws flashing.
(SLICING GALE!)
Blue wind erupted from her strike, razor-sharp crescents that cut through the air. They sliced Bara's shoulder, deep enough to see bone. He roared, swatting at her. She twisted midair, landing on a spike and vaulting again.
Kael raised his hand.
(THUNDERING FANG!)
Lightning shot forward—not a bolt, but a wolf-shaped construct of pure electricity. It slammed into Bara's side, burning fur and flesh.
Bara bellowed and swung both paws.
(CRUSHING TEMPEST!)
A shockwave of wind—dense, oppressive, crushing—exploded outward. Kari was thrown back, slamming into the stakes. Blood dripped from her mouth.
Kael skidded, electricity crackling around him like armor.
***
Violet watched, eyes wide.
Clan Manei.
Magic shared by a tribe—passed through blood and tradition. The Valley Tribes all wielded wind, but each clan shaped it differently.
Kari's wind cut.
Bara's wind crushed.
Kael's wind carried lightning.
***
Bara dominated.
Each blow sent tremors through the ground. Kari darted around him, slicing, bleeding him slowly. Kael struck from range, lightning bolts scorching fur.
But Bara didn't fall.
He caught Kari mid-leap and slammed her into the earth. The impact cratered the ground. She coughed blood.
He backhanded Kael, sending him flying into the stakes. The wood splintered.
The crowd roared.
Bara stood tall, blood dripping from dozens of wounds, and bellowed victory.
***
Then—
"GET UP, DA!"
Vael's voice.
Raw. Desperate.
Kael's eyes snapped open.
Lightning descended from the sky—blinding, white-hot—and wrapped around him like a living thing.
He stood.
His tattoos blazed silver. Electricity surged through his veins, arcing across his body in violent pulses.
Bara's grin faded. "The blood of old… still burns in your veins?"
Kael's voice was quiet. "Always."
***
Bara vanished.
Not teleportation—pure speed. The air exploded where he'd been.
The crowd looked around, confused—
"THERE!" someone shouted, pointing skyward.
Bara was airborne, impossibly high, falling like a meteor.
Kael's hand rose. Lightning gathered, condensing into a single point.
(FENRIR'S DESCENT!)
Thunder cracked. A pillar of light struck Bara mid-fall, and the bear's roar became a scream. He crashed into the ground with the force of an avalanche. The earth split. Dust and debris exploded outward.
When it cleared, Bara lay still, smoking, unconscious.
Kael stood, barely, lightning fading from his body.
***
An old shaman stepped forward, staff raised.
"With this, Dra-za-li comes to end! We seek blessings from the Ancient Ones and bow our heads to Da'ar Kael, leader of the coalition, chosen by blood and storm!"
The crowd erupted.
"DA'AR KAEL! DA'AR KAEL! DA'AR KAEL!"
Vael screamed louder than anyone.
***
Kael's eyes found Violet.
He walked toward her, slow, deliberate. Blood dripped from his knuckles. His tattoos still glowed faintly.
"You, child," he said, voice steady despite his wounds. "You seek audience with Da'ar. Here I am."
He stopped before her. "I honour the words of the Ancient Beast. Now come down."
The gatekeeper lowered them.
Eivor grabbed Violet's arm. "What does he mean?"
Violet stepped forward, voice calm. "I challenged him for a fight."
Eivor's eyes went wide as moons. "FIGHT WITH HIM?!"
Kael's lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
"Show me, child… what the Honour Call means to you."