When I awoke the next day I groggily strapped on my gear and headed straight to the guild hall.

  Sleep came poorly. Doubt and anxiety clung to me like fog. It didn’t feel right lying to my new party like that. On one hand I had good reason to avoid telling them about the wolf's mark on my chest, as well as my strange connection to the black and white spectral wolves. On the other, they would have to find out at some point, so why not just tell them now despite my uncertainties.

  When I arrived at the Guild Hall, Bront was the only member of our party that I saw. He looked to be fitting his armor and getting ready for some sort of combat.

  I approached him curiously.

  “Hey Bront.” I said, waving as I walked over to him.

  He grunted back to me, tipping his head in greeting.

  “You getting ready for a fight?”

  He nodded. “The guild asked me to participate in more trial combat exercises for new adventurers. Had nothing else to do, so I accepted.”

  “Nothing else to do, huh? What about Selene and Lyria? Are we not planning on taking any quests for the time being?” I asked.

  He nodded once again. “No quests right now. Selene went to the archives. Lyria—not sure.” He said with a shrug as he clipped another strap on his armor.

  “Ah I see… Okay, thanks for filling me in. Good luck with the trials, or uh, go easy on em’.” I said with a small chuckle as I took my leave of the guild hall.

  He just grunted and nodded again, but I swear I saw a flicker of a smile cross his face.

  As I stepped out into the streets of Lanton, I looked up to the vast blue sky, dotted with light puffy clouds. It was a beautiful day by all accounts, and with nothing to do, I adjusted my pack, and headed for the western gate of Lanton once again. I decided to clear my head, I’d go back to my roots and try my hand at a bit of hunting back in the Everdale woods.

  I made my way through the city, humming a quiet tune, observing the residents of Lanton as I went. I walked through market stalls selling all varieties of wares; furs, bright fruits, and shiny baubles. I passed by a handful of armories, and blacksmiths, dark smoke billowing from stacked stone chimneys. I heard the commotion and saw gathering crowds cheering on street performers. It was a peaceful day. A stark contrast to the storm of chaos I saw the last time I came through West Lanton.

  When I finally made it through the Western gate, my gaze caught the rolling fields stretching out to my left, and the thick treeline of Everdale, standing stoically to my right. I followed its edge until I spotted a narrow hunter’s trail.

  I took my bow from my back, strung it, and instinctively reached for my short sword, but it wasn’t there. I froze for a moment, wondering how I hadn’t noticed it was missing until just now. Then it dawned on me, I must have lost it in the battle with the shaman…

  I made a mental note to return to the clearing where the battle took place so I could search for it. I was already in the Everdale woods so it wouldn’t be much of a detour.

  I spent the first couple of hours stalking down the winding trail, keeping my eyes and ears trained for any sign of prey or for tracks. I trailed some game a few times, but didn’t end up coming across any worth the trouble.

  I decided to take a small break by a bubbling stream, sitting upon a large stone as I pulled off my pack. I snacked on some jerky I’d brought along and fashioned a quick trap to leave in a small game trail that I thought must have belonged to a Jacklerabbit, a small animal that was more ferocious than you’d think, but made surprisingly good stew.

  Leaving the trap, I continued on my way, following my senses as I shifted my focus to returning to that clearing.

  It took another 30 minutes of quiet walking but soon enough, I found it.

  As I stepped into the clearing my eyes widened. The damage done to this place during the battle was immense. The terrain was gnarled and destroyed, huge boulders and broken stones lay strewn about, drying vines and tearing chasms littered the ground.

  When I walked closer towards the hill that the shaman had been standing upon, I noticed two deep skid marks.

  A memory flashed in my mind.

  I was standing firm, my heart rate immeasurable, my vision tinted red, then—blinding light, followed by darkness.

  This was where I’d blocked the shamans lightning…

  I shook off the memory and began searching for my shortsword. After only a bit of looking, something shiny caught my eye, and there, stuck in the dirt a good few feet away, was my sword.

  I walked over, grabbed the hilt and pulled it out, but when it pulled loose, my heart sank. The blade my father had given me, the one I’d used for the last five years, was all but destroyed.

  The metal looked to have been melted by the heat of the lightning bolt. The blades' once pristine surface was marred with black streaks, its form twisted like candle wax.

  Sighing, I stowed it anyway, perhaps I could have it repaired…

  I turned to leave but before I could take my next step, the wolf's mark on my chest began to chill.

  I hesitated for a moment holding my hand over my chest.

  I could tell the difference now, it was the white wolf. But what did it want?

  I focused on the sensation, closing my eyes and picturing the white wolf taking shape before me.

  When my eyes opened, it was there.

  I still wasn’t used to its appearance. A white wolf, larger than any I'd ever seen in the wild, its eyes icy blue and glowing faintly, its fur almost spectral as it shimmered, emitting a pale light. Its appearance was intimidating, more so than any wild animal I’d ever encountered, but also, in a strange way, comforting.

  I bowed to it.

  It dipped its head in response.

  I spoke first. “Why have you called..?”

  It stared at me for a moment, as if considering my worth.

  “It is time you learn our names.” It said, its voice smooth and resonant, pausing before speaking again.

  “Lunae—”

  The name came like a whisper, but felt strangely familiar. At the same moment its name was spoken, its form began to twist. Its fur shifted from light to dark as it traded places with the black wolf.

  His presence was far more intimidating than the white wolf, Lunae. Its body was just as imposing, and covered in pitch black fur. Its fangs bared constantly, its luminescent red eyes glinted like embers. Light itself seemed to disappear against it.

  “Tenebrae—” it growled, its voice low, but not menacing.

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  The two of them sharing their names with me felt like an important moment, each name resonated within my mind. I simply bowed low, out of genuine respect for these two otherworldly beings who now resided within me.

  My chest burned hot as it suddenly returned to the mark on my chest, my mind swam with questions, but the moment was cut short.

  Standing there, just a few paces to my side, was Lyria. Her lavender eyes burning with confusion, distrust, and a hint of anger.

  Before I could speak she readied a spell, arcane symbols forming around her hands, blue energy coalescing.

  "Lyria—wait!" I raised my hands instinctively, backing a step away from her.

  The arcane sigils around her hands flared brighter, crackling blue and gold. Her expression was wild—anger and fear fighting for control in her eyes. She didn’t lower her hands.

  "I knew it," she spat. Her voice trembled, not with weakness but fury. "I knew something was wrong with you—you’re a Fellborn aren’t you!"

  The accusation hit like a blow. I opened my mouth to respond, but she surged forward a step.

  "You lied to us, Yukon! You lied to me!" Her voice cracked, raw with betrayal. "Back there, when you blocked that lightning—what the hell even was that?! No one should be able to move like that. And your body... it was hardly damaged!"

  "I was trying to save you," I said quietly, keeping my voice even despite the storm rising in my chest. "I didn’t have time to explain—"

  "Don’t!" she shouted, and the sigils flared like lightning. Her hair whipped about her face from the magic building in the air. "Don’t act like this is just some little misunderstanding! I trusted you, Yukon!” She said, hesitating, her head dipping, heavy with conflicting emotions.

  Before speaking again, she looked up, eyes burning.

  “It was me. I was the reason we couldn't come to a unanimous decision...” She admitted.

  “I didn’t like you, nor did I trust you. You were rude to Bront without ever knowing him, and I didn’t buy your apology for a second. There was no way I’d let you join us!...But—after the battle against the shaman, I’d changed my mind… I even told Selene and Bront that I would be okay with it, that I wanted you in our party. I told myself—he's strange, yes, but loyal. He saved my life."

  She was shaking now, arms still up, the spell trembling in her hands like it didn’t know whether to strike or vanish.

  "You should’ve just stayed away from us!" she hissed.

  I stayed still. "I–I’m sorry…" I said, voice low. "But it's not what you think, I barely understand it myself."

  Lyria gave a bitter laugh, sharp and broken. "That's convenient."

  She turned her gaze to the center of the clearing—the place where Tenebrae had just vanished.

  "You were talking to something, weren’t you? A black wolf… not the white one that was with you before." she said. "Another Fellborn? One of the wolves from that nightmare dimension?"

  "No," I said quickly. "It’s not like that. He—his name is Tenebrae. He’s not Fellborn. He’s something different. Something… Ancient."

  "You expect me to believe that? After everything the Guildmaster warned us about? After seeing you glow with power and walk away without a scratch?"

  I took a step forward. "Please, just listen—"

  "NO!" she screamed, and the spell finally loosed.

  I barely had time to react. The blast struck the dirt beside me, throwing up a wall of force and dust. My ears rang.

  When the smoke cleared, Lyria stood there, shoulders heaving, eyes wet with fury and disbelief.

  "I came here to study the shaman’s magic," she whispered, more to herself now. "I thought maybe I’d find runes, maybe learn something to protect us. Instead, I find you, in the middle of the clearing where that thing died, whispering to a demon."

  "Lyria," I said, stepping through the smoke, my voice steady. "If I were a Fellborn, would I be standing here now? Would I be talking to you?"

  Her jaw clenched. She didn’t answer.

  I placed a hand over my chest, where the mark still burned faintly cold. "What I carry isn’t Fell magic. It’s old. Wild. Dangerous, maybe. But not evil. It saved me. It saved you."

  She stared at me, the gears clearly grinding behind her furious eyes.

  The wind stirred around us. The clearing was silent again—save for the trembling in her breath.

  "I don’t know what you are, Yukon," she said, slowly lowering her hands. "But I’m going to find out. And if I think for one second that whatever’s inside you is leading you down the same path as the Fellborn..."

  She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to.

  Her hand closed into a fist, snuffing the last traces of magic in her palm.

  Then she turned, cloak whipping behind her as she walked away through the ruins of the battlefield.

  I stood alone with the silence, Tenebrae and Lunae’s names echoing in my head, and the burning weight of the mark on my chest growing colder by the second.

  “Lyria—wait!” I called after her, running to catch up.

  She turned around, immediately taking a defensive stance, her hands once again glowing with magical energy.

  “Wait,” I said again, softer this time, raising both hands.

  “What. “ She replied sharply.

  “I… I’ll show you.” I said finally.

  Her lavender eyes flickered—curious, but still guarded. “...go on then.”

  I nodded, closing my eyes and focusing on Tenebrae and Lunae’s presence, envisioning their forms taking shape in the material world yet again.

  When I opened my eyes their spectral bodies were taking shape beside me. Lyria’s eyes widened in fear as she backed up instinctively.

  “Wait. It's okay. They won’t harm you.” I said, hoping Lyria would give me a chance here.

  “What—what are they..?” She said, her voice barely a whisper as her light lavender eyes locked with Lunae’s icy blue orbs.

  Before I could respond, Lunae spoke.

  “I,” she corrected, “am Lunae. An ancient deity of this world. My counterpart and I now reside within this boy.”

  Tenebrae stared at her silently, his crimson eyes never wavering.

  Lyria couldn’t hide her disbelief.

  “I… like I said, this isn't Fell magic,” I started to explain.

  “Lunae, and her counterpart, the black wolf, appeared at a time when I was sure to be killed and they saved my life. In return they gave me this mark, and they now reside within me,” I said, opening my shirt a bit to show her the mark that she had caught a glimpse of in the aftermath of the battle.

  “Is that what that was…?” Lyria whispered, more to herself than to me, still not seeming entirely convinced.

  While we spoke, Lunae locked eyes with Lyria once more before her and Tenebrae vanished, dissipating and returning to the mark.

  I took a deep breath.

  “I swear to you, I am not a corrupted adventurer sent by Fell sorcerers… Honestly, I’m scarcely an adventurer at all. I finally left home barely a fortnight ago, came to Lanton, registered at the guild, and met all of you.” I said, a trace of fatigue lining my words.

  “Selene and Bront were able to accept me, and I was so glad that you were finally seeming to as well… But after the guild master's warning. I saw the way you looked at me. Like a monster, just waiting for an opportunity to strike,” I said, emotion beginning to well as the fatigue and exhaustion from everything I'd experienced came crashing in.

  “I—” Lyria tried to speak but I cut her off.

  “I didn’t ask for this power!” I said a bit desperately.

  “Sure I could have told you all but I barely understood it myself… I thought you’d just see me as a burden, or a threat. If I hadn’t been so ignorant and offended Bront without even knowing him, or any of you, maybe things would be different. At least that’s what I told myself. Or maybe I’m just not cut out for any of this, maybe you're right…” I exhaled as the words left my mouth, it felt as if a month's worth of tension had finally been released, but I knew Lyria would probably laugh at me, or better yet, get Selene to kick me out of the party as I was surely 'too unstable' to be of any use…

  My head hung in anticipation, my gaze fixed on the dirt beneath my feet.

  Lyria was quiet for a moment, studying me. When she finally spoke, her words surprised me.

  “I never said you’re not cut out for this… And you—you’re not a burden,” she said, biting her lip as her eyes trailed down.

  “I believe you… okay? So let's head back. This place is dripping with bad energy.” With that she turned, and I could have sworn I saw a little hint of pink on her cheeks. She started off without checking if I was following.

  It wasn’t the reaction I expected. I watched her walk for a moment, emotions tangling inside of me like twisting vines. I was glad I had finally told someone about the wolf spirits. It felt as if a weight had been lifted, but I was nervous, nervous for what came next.

  I took a deep breath, cleared my eyes, and began following Lyria back to Lanton.