The great gates of Emberwatch closed behind Shakes with a low groan, stone grinding on stone like the voice of the mountain itself. The streets inside the fortress were quiet now. Only the low flicker of mage-lanterns lit the winding corridors that connected the training fields to the dormitories. The world outside still rang in his bones—the stranger's words like molten iron cooling in his chest.
He made his way through the halls, past banners of faded red and gold, through stone corridors carved with the names of the fallen. Everything felt heavier than it had before.
As he turned the corner near the courtyard, three figures stood waiting.
"There you are," Zera called out. She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowing.
"You were gone too long," Lucen added, leaning against a pillar, his voice edged with quiet concern. "We thought maybe you'd gone after one of the rogue den dwellers again. Without backup."
Vellion stood a little behind the others, hands clasped in front of her, her gaze fixed on Shakes. She didn't say anything, but her eyes asked enough questions on their own.
Shakes tried to smile, tried to make his voice easy. "I didn't go far. Just needed a bit of air like i said before. After everything today, I guess I needed space."
Zera stepped forward, her dark braid swaying behind her. "You sure you're alright?"
He nodded, more quickly than he meant to. "I'm fine. Really. Just… tired. Stressed."
There was a pause. Silence like a weight. But then, slowly, the tension began to dissolve.
Zera shrugged. "Alright. If you say so. You're still a terrible liar, by the way."
Lucen gave a nod. "Just don't go vanishing again and coming back late hours. You know you are just recovering. Emberwatch may be full of stone, but some of us worry."
Vellion's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, unreadable.
"I'll see you in the morning," Shakes said.
One by one, they turned away and slipped down the halls toward their separate dorms, boots echoing against the flagstone floors. Shakes stood for a while longer, staring at the wall, then turned toward his own door.
He entered his room and shut the door softly behind him.
The dorm was still, lit only by the faint red glow of Severflame resting against the wall near his bed. The sword seemed to pulse with its own quiet breath, as if aware it had been forgotten earlier. He sat on the edge of his cot, staring at it, the old man's voice circling in his head like smoke caught in rafters.
"Your father carried it, too... but he never mastered it."
Shakes clenched his jaw. He didn't know if he could master it either. But he knew one thing with clarity—the hooded figure, the one who had torn the Den apart, who had hunted them like animals, who had taken everything from him—that being wouldn't be defeated by half-measures.
He needed strength. Not borrowed. Not taught. His own.
But how could he chase it and still call this place home?
His fingers curled into fists.
Then came a knock—gentle, almost hesitant.
He rose, crossed the room, and opened the door.
Vellion stood there, cloaked in soft gray, the ends of her sleeves bunched in her hands. Her silver-blue eyes searched his face.
"Can we talk?" she asked.
He hesitated, then stepped aside. "Yeah."
But she shook her head. "Not here."
A moment later, they walked in silence through the quiet halls. The path led them not to the mess or the common room, but to the training hall—empty now, save for the distant hum of enchanted wards buried in the walls. Moonlight spilled in through the upper slits in the ceiling, casting pale light across the floor.
Vellion sat on the edge of the sparring platform, hands folded neatly in her lap. Shakes remained standing, arms crossed, eyes distant.
"Are you worried about us?" she asked finally, softly.
He didn't answer at first.
Then came a barely audible, "No." Almost a lie.
"You are," she said gently. "Even if you don't want to be."
He looked away.
"I've been watching you," she continued, her voice firm, despite her natural shyness. "Since the day I joined the squad. You carry more than the rest of us. You think you're the only one who has to hold everything together. But you're not."
Shakes rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You do," she said. "You've been distant from us ever since you were discharged. The look on your eyes says it all. The rest of the team might not know but you can't hide it from me".
He looked at her now, her face still and composed, but her eyes shimmering with emotion barely held in check.
"You don't need to tell me anything" she added, as if reading his mind. "I don't need to know what you are planning The dens disappearing and that hooded guy we faced last time is enough to get someone worried. But I can see what it did to you."
A silence settled over them again. Not tense—just quiet. Real.
"You should stop torturing yourself," Vellion whispered. "Rest. Heal. You'll need clarity for whatever's coming."
She looked up at him, meeting his gaze without flinching, even though she'd always been the shy one, the one who looked down when praised, who rarely spoke in more than a few sentences. But tonight, something was different.
And when Shakes looked into her eyes, he saw it. Concern. Not pity. Not fear. But something warmer. Stronger.
He stepped forward and gently took her hand. It was small, cold. She didn't pull away.
"I'll… I'll take your advice," he said with a faint smile. "Thanks."
She gave the smallest nod and stood.
They left the training hall together, steps slow, unhurried.
By the time he reached his dorm again, the weight on his chest had shifted—not gone, but lighter. Bearable.
He sat once more on the edge of his bed. Severflame rested against the wall, the runes along its edge glowing faintly in the dark.
Tomorrow, he would tell them.
Not just Zera, Lucen, and Vellion.
He would tell the Order.
The Den Hunters. Commander Ryzen. Everyone who had ever trained him, fought beside him, bled with him. They deserved to know. He wasn't just a fanged hunter anymore.
His hand closed around the hilt of Severflame.
And the flame pulsed in response.
At dawn, the war room glowed with enchanted firelight, map tables laid bare and quiet.
Commander Ryzen stood at the head of the chamber, arms behind his back, speaking with two of the senior Den Hunters when the doors swung open.
Shakes stepped inside.
He wasn't in uniform. No crest. No rank pins. Just a plain black coat and the sword at his back.
Ryzen turned, brow rising.
Zera, Lucen, and Vellion were already there, waiting.
"I have something to say," Shakes said, voice steady.
The room fell into silence.
"I intend to leave Emberwatch."
Gasps rang out behind him. One of the Hunters took a step forward, mouth open.
Ryzen's expression barely changed. "You what?"
"I've been called beyond the walls. There's something I need to understand. Something my father never did. If I stay, I'll keep fighting—but only half of the war."
To be continued....