BOOOOM!—
The Door didn't open—it ruptured.
Oak splintered into ribbons of light, and the three of them—Shade, Lira, Vesper—were hurled through, the tower's final heartbeat launching them into the waking world like a birth gone wrong.
THUD!—FWOOSH!—
They crashed onto silver sand, limbs tangled, lungs burning. The ground was cold, the air thick with the scent of salt and storm-petals—flowers that bloomed only in tempests, their fragrance a promise of rain and ruin.
The world unfolded around them like a half-remembered dream.
Endless dunes of mercury sand shimmered beneath a sky bruised violet and indigo.
Waves of blue glass rolled in, shattering against cliffs of petrified lightning, each bolt humming with trapped thunder.
Wrecks of colossal ships lay beached like leviathan bones—
hulls woven from thorn-vine and shadow-silk, sails tattered into maps of unwalked worlds.
The wind carried whispers—hunts half-begun, hounds chasing stars, hooves drumming on dunes.
In the far distance, a cloaked rider on a shadow-blue steed paused, blade gleaming beneath the veiled sun—then vanished into heat-shimmer.
A horn sounded, low and mournful.
—VOOOOM…—
The Hunt had begun.
The Shores
Shade pushed himself up first, coughing grit.
The half-sword lay beside him—whole again, constellations realigned under waking light.
The black pearl chain still linked his wrist to Lira's, a fragile tether that had survived even the Door.
Vesper—no, Elias now—stirred last, mask-shards gone, faint scars tracing his cheeks. His eyes were wide, terrified of being real.
"We… we made it," Lira breathed, sitting up. Her apple-tree tattoo glowed faintly blue against her skin, its roots curling toward Shade's arm like veins of light.
Shade pulled her close, holding her fiercely. "The Hunt," he murmured, gaze toward the horizon. "Maria's echo—it's started."
Elias brushed sand from his cloak, voice trembling. "The Shores are borderlands. Where nightmares bleed into the wild. We can't stay."
The sea sighed and retreated, revealing a treeline ahead—The Woods of Thorn and Whisper, their branches twisted like lovers' arms, leaves of hammered copper that chimed in the wind.
Shade tightened his grip on Lira's hand. "No choice. The tower's gone, but the Hunt follows. We move inland—find what's left of the clan."
The Woods
The forest swallowed them whole.
—CRRRK, WHSSH…—
Sunlight filtered through copper leaves, scattering gold flecks across their path. Storm-petals clung to the vines, releasing ozone bursts with every step. Birds—glimmering, black-eyed—watched in silence.
Time blurred. The wind whispered secrets in dead tongues; roots shifted beneath their boots like veins in a sleeping beast.
They found a clearing ringed by ancient oaks, bark etched with glowing runes—wards or warnings, they couldn't tell. A crystal stream trickled through, stocked with silver fish that darted like shooting stars.
They collapsed by the water's edge. Elias sparked a fire—click, fwoosh!—the flames smelling of salt and hearth. Lira unpacked the Door's gifts: hard bread, dried apples, and a flask of water that somehow tasted like home.
Shade leaned against an oak, Lira's head on his shoulder. The half-sword rested across his knees, humming low. Elias stared into the flames, lost in thought.
"It's quiet," Lira murmured. "Like before my father lit the beacon. The world… waiting."
Shade smiled softly, kissing her hair. "We earned this. No spirals. No gods. Just us."
Elias laughed faintly, tossing a storm-petal into the fire. POP! SPARK!
"The pools never showed me this—fire, friends."
"What now?" he asked. "The Hunt?"
"Tomorrow," Shade said. "Tonight, we breathe."
Lira tilted her face toward him. "Promise me more nights like this. Waking ones."
He brushed her cheek, voice quiet as the stream. "Every one—until the stars envy us."
Laughter filled the clearing, light and human.
For a moment, they were simply alive.
The Wolves
Then—silence.
The birds stopped singing.
The wind froze.
—SNAP… CRRKK—
Yellow eyes blinked in the brush. Dozens. Watching.
They emerged like stormclouds breaking—Stormwolves, pelts of swirling mist, fangs glinting like icicles, eyes burning frost-blue.
One shadow split into twelve, circling, growling low.
—GRRRRRRRR…—
Shade rose, sword drawn. SHIIING! "Stay back!"
Lira's dagger flashed; Elias snatched a burning branch.
The alpha lunged first—massive, jaws yawning wide enough to swallow light.
Shade met it mid-air—KLANG!—steel against storm.
Ichor sprayed, freezing midair.
Two more flanked Lira.
She twisted, slashing—SWISH!—drawing silver blood. "We can take them!"
Elias swung fire through fur—WHOOOSH!—wolves howling, petals falling like snow.
Shade grinned, wild. "Like the stag! Flank left—"
But the pack shifted—melting into smoke, reforming behind. One bit into Elias's calf—CHOMP!—he screamed, falling. Another slammed Shade down, fangs grazing his throat.
Lira burned blue, dagger whirling. The apple-tree tattoo blazed like a comet. She downed two more, chest heaving. "Shade—get up!"
He clawed for his sword, lungs raw. "Move!"
Four wolves pinned him. Elias crawled, bleeding, hand closing on the blade. "Together—!"
The alpha struck.
—RRAAAAAH!—
It hit Lira full-force, claws raking deep. She staggered, blood blooming. Shade's scream tore the air.
The pack surged.
—SKRRRSH, GRRRHHH, SNAP!—
They were drowning in fur and shadow.
Lira's gaze locked on Shade's—brown, burning, resolute.
"Shade—run."
He shook his head. "No—!"
She stepped forward, dagger raised, voice breaking:
"For the nights. For us."
Her tattoo erupted, Wrathhound's power igniting in a blinding surge—FWWWWOOOOOOM!
Vines burst from her skin, blue fire consuming everything. Wolves screamed, bodies disintegrating into ash and wind.
The alpha lunged one last time—she met it, dagger to heart. The explosion lit the forest sky.
—KRAAAAAAANG!—
Silence followed.
When the smoke cleared, only Shade remained standing—barely. The clearing was scorched black.
Lira lay still, pearl chain severed, skin cooling.
Shade fell to his knees.
"Lira… no. Please."
Her eyes stared at the stars she had wanted to see awake. His sobs broke the quiet, raw and unending.
"You promised both…"
He clutched her hand to his chest. "…you lied."
—drip. drip. drip.—
Rain began to fall.
Through the haze, hoofbeats approached. THUD… THUD… THUD…
A figure dismounted—a knight in midnight plate, cloak streaked with storm-petals, sword runed and broad. Her voice cut through the storm.
"Hold on, boy."
Strong arms lifted him, setting him on the shadow-maned horse. The last thing he saw before blacking out was her eyes—cold, resolute, pitying.
"The Hunt takes all," she whispered, reins snapping. "But not yet you."
The storm broke overhead.
—CRASHHHHHH!—
Rain washed the blood clean.
And the Vast Shores slept once more.