The boys sat around the fire, chewing the freshly roasted beast meat. Lior frowned.
"This is so bitter," he said, barely managing to swallow.
Fenric slowly nodded in agreement.
Lior stood up and walked to the beast's severed head resting atop the snow.
"What should we do with these?" he asked, gripping one of the antlers.
Fenric wiped his mouth. "I'm not sure." After a pause, he added, "We should keep them. They might prove useful."
Lior placed his Odachi on the back of the skull, just above a small ridge. He sawed into the bone until he reached the eyes, then cut again from between them. The antlers came free with a chunk of skull still attached.
Fenric watched in silence, his stomach turning.
With a final, sharp strike, Lior split the chunk connecting the antlers. He stowed one in his bag and handed the other to Fenric.
He sat back down. The firelight danced in his gray eyes. His expression—aloof.
"You should sleep now," he said, glancing at Fenric. "I'll keep watch tonight."
The boy raised an eyebrow. "Won't we take turns?"
"No." Lior shook his head. "I can handle one night without sleep."
He sighed. "You deserve some rest. We've been through a lot today."
"Then you should rest too," the boy said, concern in his voice.
"It's fine," Lior waved him off. "Just rest. Good night."
Fenric leaned against a nearby tree trunk, his eyes growing heavy.
Barely awake, he mumbled, "Good night, Lior."
And drifted off.
---
Morning came quickly—too quickly.
Nothing had changed in the forest. Mist still coiled through the air. The snow remained undisturbed. Towering trees stood silent. Only a few rays of sunlight pierced the gloom.
A loud thud jolted Fenric awake.
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Hey, Lior... What was that?"
Then he saw.
Lior stood over eight wolf-like corpses. His hands and Odachi were soaked in bluish dye.
Fenric leapt to his feet and ran to him.
"Impossible," he muttered, staring at the bodies. "How did you do it?"
"Simple," Lior shrugged, his face unreadable. "I used the terrain to split them up. Then finished them one by one."
Fenric glanced around. Pawprints scattered across the snow, some overlapping in a frenzy. A few trees had streaks of dried blue dye smeared across their bark.
His gaze shifted to the corpses. Most had their chests pierced clean through—precise, lethal strikes. Others bore chaotic stab wounds, as if they'd been torn apart in panic.
Then he saw it.
...Is that a bite mark? The thought sent a chill down his spine.
"But, Lior," Fenric stammered, barely holding it together, "These are Blightwolves. Maybe not as strong as Bone-backed Stags, but killing this many? That's suicide."
Lior shook his head and wiped his hands on his pants. "No matter how strong, an animal is just that—an animal."
"Enough talk." He crouched beside one corpse. "Let's skin them and leave."
While they worked, Fenric stole glances at Lior. The Odachi moved in his hands with surgical precision. Not a single motion wasted.
If he's this strong while still Dormant, Fenric thought, what happens when he forms his core?
The idea gave him hope. Maybe they could survive this place. Maybe they'd get out.
But he also knew what Lior had become since losing his memories. He chased strength with single-minded obsession, throwing himself into danger again and again. Fenric didn't know what drove him—but he feared it might lead them both to ruin.
"Alright, we can go now," Lior said, snapping him out of it.
Fenric smiled. "Let's go, then."
Hours passed. The boys wandered through the frozen woodland, the eerie silence once again settling in.
"Lior," Fenric broke it, "what are we going to do after this?"
Lior blinked. "What do you mean?"
"After we get back. What then?"
Lior walked quietly, deep in thought.
"There are a few things," he said, tapping his chin. "We still need to form our cores. I plan to hunt the wounded warriors on Virelith's outskirts. Then..."
He paused. A sigh slipped from his lips. "We'll see after that."
Fenric's expression darkened. "Do you think we'll ever leave this continent?"
Lior looked back, unsure. "Honestly... I don't know."
Then he faced forward again, fire in his eyes. "But if there's a way, I'll find it. No matter what."
Lior scratched his head. "And where would we go? I don't think I can go back to my family."
Fenric's face brightened. "Wait—Academy! I've always wanted to enroll."
Lior raised an eyebrow. "Academy of Sable Flame? The one on the cover of Beginner Principles of Arcanum?"
Fenric nodded eagerly. "That's the one!"
He twirled his finger with a grin. "Once we form our cores, they'll have to accept us. We could learn so much more about Arcanum there."
That was all Lior needed to hear.
He turned, a devilish grin spreading across his face.
"Of course! How didn't I think of that before?" After a moment, he added, "Fenric, you're a genius."
The boy smiled shyly, lowering his head. "Really?"
"Of course." Lior ruffled his hair with a rare warmth.
They kept walking.
Eventually, the edge of the forest appeared through the mist.
"Finally," Lior breathed. Relief flickered across his face.
"But Fenric," he asked, "where is the Academy?"
"Ah..." Fenric scratched his cheek. "I think someone said it's in the Heart of a Holy Nation."
Lior frowned. Heart of a Holy Nation...
He shook his head. "No matter. We'll find it—one way or another."
They stepped out of Elaren's Veil. The mist faded behind them. Freezing wind bit at their skin, a cold but familiar greeting.
Lior took a deep breath. A new goal now burned alongside his hunger for strength.
"Alright, Fenric. Let's make haste. We've got work to do."
"Let's go, then," Fenric said with a warm smile.