Kaelion woke to silence.
Not just quiet—but the pressurized kind of silence. The kind that filled your chest like rising water. The kind that said, don't speak. Don't move. Something is listening.
He blinked slowly.
The shrine still stood around them—cracked columns wrapped in moss, broken altar slabs kissed by faint morning light—but the air had changed. The kind of shift you could feel in your blood.
Nyro was already awake, fur bristling, twin tails motionless behind him. He circled the perimeter with clinical precision, pausing to sniff the stone barrier that marked the shrine's edge. His eyes glowed faintly.
Kaelion sat up, hand instinctively sliding toward his dagger.
Wren was already on her feet, scanning the tree line. Her hair was damp with dew, and the silver scar under her eye stood out sharper in the light. She didn't speak. Just nodded once.
We move.
Kaelion didn't argue.
They stepped beyond the boundary, and the forest snapped back like a rubber band stretched too tight. Mist thickened around their ankles. The trees no longer leaned—they loomed. And the stillness clung to them like smoke.
"Feels worse than before," Kaelion murmured, voice low.
"It is," Wren replied. "They've found us."
"Three," Umbrix whispered. "No—four. Closing fast. Trained. Enchanted. They're veiled, but I can taste their breath on the trees."
"Hallowed Guard?" Kaelion thought.
"Worse. They're ward-bound. Ghost-step units."
Kaelion didn't like the sound of ghost-step. He barely liked the sound of units.
"Why send this much after me?" he asked.
"Because you're not just bonded," Wren said. "You're a crack in the Archive."
They moved quickly, feet skimming the moss as they cut through half-submerged ruins. Kaelion kept pace, heart pounding in rhythm with the flickering presence in his chest. Umbrix curled like a coil behind his ribs, thrumming louder with each step.
Then a whisper cut through the air.
Not words. Not wind.
Just… wrong.
Kaelion looked up sharply. "They're close."
Wren didn't nod. She simply veered right, ducking into the hollow of a fallen tree, and motioned for him to follow. He slid in after her, barely fitting into the space beneath the massive root.
Seconds passed.
Then footsteps. Light, but not stealthy. Confident.
Three figures passed, cloaked and masked, boots silent against the undergrowth. Their spiritsteel weapons glowed faintly, humming with suppressive energy. Not designed to kill spirits.
Designed to sever bonds.
Kaelion's mouth went dry.
He gripped the dagger tighter, feeling Umbrix coil, waiting.
"Not yet," he thought.
"You can't hide forever."
One of the figures paused just ahead of them. Tilted its head. Sniffed the air.
Kaelion held his breath.
Then Nyro let out a low warning chirp from behind the tree—and the moment shattered.
The hunter spun.
Wren lunged.
She moved like water—daggers flashing, feet gliding across moss. The nearest hunter barely had time to block as her blade scraped across his pauldron and into his ribs. Not deep. But distracting.
Kaelion erupted from cover, shadow already flaring across his hands. The second hunter drew his blade, but Kaelion's reflexes moved faster than thought. A tendril shot from his shadow and swept the hunter's legs out from under him.
"Permission to maim?" he muttered.
"Granted," Umbrix growled, "with interest."
Kaelion planted his hand on the ground and sent a ripple of shadowfire outward. It struck the third hunter mid-step, knocking him into a tree with a violent thud.
The fourth appeared from the mist behind Wren, raising a spear etched in golden runes.
"WREN!"
She turned just in time to catch the strike on her dagger, but the impact sent her sprawling backward into the ferns. Nyro leapt to her side, tails flashing red as an illusion burst outward, momentarily disorienting the attacker.
Kaelion crossed the clearing in two steps, shadow swirling around his injured shoulder. He slammed a palm into the ground again, this time with intent.
Not defense.
Force.
The clearing detonated in a ring of violet-black light.
The last hunter screamed—voice short, sharp—and collapsed.
Then, silence returned.
Breathless. Watching.
Kaelion stood in the smoke of his own making, hand trembling. His shirt was torn down one side, the spiritsteel burn still glowing faintly on his bicep.
Wren approached, brushing dirt from her arm, eyes scanning him from head to toe. "That power... it's not raw anymore."
Kaelion looked at his hands. They didn't glow. But the air around them shimmered.
"Felt different this time," he said. "Like the forest... gave me more."
Wren crouched near one of the unconscious hunters and pulled a scroll from their inner pocket. Her eyes narrowed as she read it.
Kaelion joined her.
His name was printed clearly in the ink.
Kaelion VaelStatus: Voidbonded FugitiveOrder: Terminate with prejudice. No return.Issued: Solar Crowned Lysandra Vael
Kaelion let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Sisterly love."
Wren held his gaze. "She's afraid of you."
"Or Umbrix."
"Same thing."
She stood and burned the scroll with a flick of Nyro's ember. The smoke curled up into the mist and vanished without a sound.
"We need to keep moving," she said. "If these four made it here, more are coming."
Kaelion looked back at the fallen hunters. "Do we bury them?"
"They would not bury you."
Fair.
They didn't stop moving for hours. The forest grew denser, the roots harder to navigate. At times, Kaelion swore the trees were following them—adjusting position, rerouting paths.
Once, they crossed an old rope bridge over a river of mist. No water. Just fog so dense it pulled sound out of the air.
It was there, on the bridge, that Kaelion whispered, "Do you think I'm going to lose control?"
Wren didn't answer immediately.
She didn't look at him either. Just walked a few steps ahead and finally said, "If you do... I'll stop you."
Kaelion almost smiled. It wasn't a threat.
It was a promise.
That night, they stopped under a half-fallen stone arch swallowed by tree roots. Wren set perimeter sigils using crushed crystal and dried thistle. Nyro curled protectively at her side.
Kaelion sat against a moss-covered column, legs stretched, shoulder throbbing.
"Something's changing," he murmured.
"Yes," Umbrix said. "Your bond has begun evolving. You're no longer just a host. You're becoming something new."
"What if I don't want that?"
"Then your sister wins."
Kaelion let out a slow breath.
He felt Wren approach before he saw her.
She sat beside him, close but not touching.
"Tomorrow," she said, "we reach the edge of the Echo Depths. There's someone there who might have answers. Someone who studies forgotten spirits."
"Do they charge by the hour?"
She cracked a smile.
Kaelion leaned his head back against the stone and looked up through the trees.
Stars blinked faintly in the gaps.
The Spiritwild had never looked darker.
But for the first time...
...he wasn't walking it alone.