"I'll explain everything," Shakes said, lifting his chin.
The war room stilled. Maps, scrolls, and half-finished reports littered the central table, the scent of ink and steel hanging thick in the air. Torches burned in their sconces, casting tall shadows on stone walls that had never known surrender. Shakes stood at the heart of the storm, surrounded by the fiercest Den Hunters Emberwatch had ever known. These were his comrades, his family. The weight of what he was about to say coiled tight in his chest, hot and heavy like burning coal.
"But first—"
He paused, drawing in a breath that felt like swallowing fire. The words had churned inside him for days, days spent sleepless under Emberwatch's stars, haunted by the echo of footsteps not his own.
"I intend to leave Emberwatch."
The reaction was immediate.
Gasps rippled through the war room like a sudden wind stirring dry leaves. Heads turned. Eyes widened. One of the junior tacticians, a boy barely twenty winters old, stepped forward unconsciously, mouth agape. For a heartbeat, no one moved. The silence that followed wasn't peaceful—it was oppressive. A silence thick enough to choke on.
Commander Ryzen's eyes, sharp as whetted blades, narrowed. "You what?"
"I've been called beyond the walls," Shakes said, calmer now. Each word a stone laid in the path he had already chosen. "There's something out there—something I need to understand. It's tied to what happened to the Den… to the hooded one who passed through our lines like smoke and shadow."
Ryzen didn't speak, but his silence was louder than most men's shouts. Arms folded across his chest, he stared down Shakes with the same unyielding force that had led the Den Hunters through twenty winters of war and fire.
Shakes met that gaze without flinching.
"I've tried to ignore it, Commander. The pull. The dreams. But I can't pretend anymore. I've seen what's out there. Something darker than the Deeplands. Older than the Flame." He let his voice steady, driving each word home. "If I stay, I'll keep fighting. But only half the war."
The room bristled. Zera was the first to find her voice. It cracked like a whip across the silence.
"Shakes, what are you talking about? You're barely healed. You still can't hold a sword for more than five minutes without trembling. You think you can—?"
"I know what I'm doing," he interrupted—not harshly, but with the kind of resolve that silenced even her.
Her mouth clamped shut, eyes flashing.
"I'm not throwing myself into death's jaws," he went on. "I'm not seeking glory. I want answers. I want strength. But I want to do it without endangering any of you. I've seen what the enemy can do when they're after someone. They'll tear through walls, lives, cities… just to get to me."
He turned now, slowly, looking each of them in the eye—Zera, defiant and hurt; Lucen, standing ramrod straight but visibly shaken; Vellion, quiet and pale, her hands clenched at her sides.
"I'll go alone," Shakes said, softer now. "The hooded figure… whoever they are… they left a mark on me. I can't lead shadows back to Emberwatch. I won't risk it."
He hesitated, then added, "I made a promise. Long ago, at my parents' graves. That I would find the source of all this darkness—the ones behind the Den's fall—and burn them to ash with my flame. That promise still burns in me. And I won't keep it sitting behind stone walls."
The silence returned, heavier than before. Vellion took a half-step forward, mouth parted like she wanted to speak, but the words tangled in her throat.
Shakes's voice broke slightly as he said, "I'll never forget any of you. Zera. Lucen. Vellion. You're more than my team. You're my family. And that doesn't end when I walk beyond the gates."
He turned to the wider chamber now—over thirty Den Hunters and tacticians stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes filled with disbelief, grief, and something like pride. He addressed them all.
"I don't ask for approval. But I do ask this—stay alive. Stay strong. Keep Emberwatch standing. Let me go knowing you'll hold the line. And when I return…"
He faltered, the weight of his own words sinking in, pressing cold and hard into his ribs.
"…when I return, I want to find you all still here. Still standing. Still fighting."
The war room stayed silent. Breathless.
Then Lucen stepped forward.
The man stood tall—his dark hair tied back, eyes steady. He looked at Shakes for a long moment, then turned to the rest of the room.
"If this is what Shakes wants," Lucen said, his voice clear and calm, "then it's what I want."
A collective breath was held.
"He's earned that right a dozen times over. We all know it. We've seen it. And we'd be fools to try and chain someone who's being called by the very force we're trying to understand."
He turned back, placing a firm hand on Shakes's shoulder.
"So we support him."
The tension in the room cracked, then burst. What began as hesitant claps grew into a steady chorus. Applause. A few raised fists. A few shouted oaths. Others stood silent, but nodded—solemn, respectful.
The warmth that flooded the war room didn't wash away the pain—but it was powerful. Fierce. Like a storm rolling across a frozen plain.
Zera stepped forward last. Her eyes shimmered, and her lips curled in a bitter smirk.
"You idiot," she said, voice rough. "You better not die out there. Because I swear by every cursed star—I will drag your ghost back and kill you myself."
Shakes laughed. Not because it was funny, but because it was familiar. And for a heartbeat, it felt like old times.
Then Vellion came to him, saying nothing. She just stepped into his arms and held him, quiet and trembling. He closed his eyes, held her close. It was clumsy, awkward. And perfect.
Finally, the old wolf himself moved—Commander Ryzen.
He stepped into the center of the room, and again the chamber fell still.
He studied Shakes with the same gaze he'd used when Shakes had first arrived—young, bloodied, and half-wild from the wreckage of his home. That day, Ryzen had seen potential.
Now, he saw something else. Purpose.
At last, the Commander nodded once.
"Then go," he said. "But return as more than a hunter. Return with the truth. Return with the fire we need."
He paused. "Or don't return at all."
Shakes bowed his head, low and deep. "Yes, Commander."
What followed was a blur of embraces. Zera—quick, fierce, muttering another threat through her tears. Lucen—solid and strong, the grip of a brother. Vellion—gentle and silent, her touch a memory he would carry far beyond the gates.
The cheers followed him through Emberwatch's stone halls like echoes of a former life. As he stepped into the courtyard, more voices rose.
"Stay alive, Shakes!"
"Come back whole!"
"Don't let that shadow win!"
He turned once.
Looked up at the towers, the archways, the countless flickering windows lit with mage-light. Every stone bore a memory. Every flame, a promise.
Then he turned forward.
And vanished into the crowd.
To be continued....