The mountain didn't breathe. It watched.
Even through the veil of mist curling over its broken fangs, Jackie felt the gaze of something older than any tribe, older even than the bloodlines that burned within his veins. The Shrine of Hollow Flame loomed ahead—half-buried in snow and time, its basalt doors rising like the ribs of a forgotten god.
Behind him, Kaden grunted, shaking ice from his boots. "This the place?" he asked, slapping his spear against a stone stump.
Yara nodded. "It reeks of old spirits."
Jackie said nothing. The relic was near. The Heartstone, whispered in half-truths and clan-mother songs. It called to him not with sound, but with heat—a thrum in his chest, a slow boil in his spine. Every step closer, and the Wolfflame in his blood pulsed brighter.
He approached the door.
Two totem-wheels framed the entrance. Each one carved with beast-spirit icons—crude and weatherworn but unmistakable: Bear. Hawk. Serpent. Flame-drake. Wolf. Beneath each, glyphs in the tongue of the old tribes spiraled in patterns of elemental harmony.
Yara leaned in, brushing snow from the stone. "It's a trial gate."
"Great," Kaden said, voice flat. "A puzzle. Because we haven't had enough of those lately."
Jackie stepped forward, the tribal ink on his forearm—his lineage tattoos—tingling as they reacted to the ancient power.
Balance is the law of the deep places, Rahu had once told him. Where fire roams without earth, ash follows. Where wolf runs without pack, the storm hunts.
He traced the glyphs. "We need to align the spirits of fire and earth. They must be in accord. That's the key."
Kaden scowled. "And if we get it wrong?"
"Then we feed the mountain," Yara said simply, already bracing herself against one of the totems.
Jackie gave instructions. "Wolf on the inner ring. Flame-drake on the outer. Serpent to the east—no, wait. Earth must bind them. Put Bear between them."
The wheels groaned as Yara and Kaden turned them, stone resisting like old bone. Frost shook free in sheets. The glyphs flickered dimly, like embers starved for air.
With a deep click, the final totem aligned.
And the mountain opened its mouth.
The shrine's doors slid apart with a deafening scrape. Beyond, a tunnel plunged into darkness lit by flickering red glow—not torchlight, but something deeper, older. Jackie stepped inside, spear in hand, the heat of the Heartstone pulling at him like a second heartbeat.
The inner sanctum was circular, domed, impossibly wide. Old braziers burned on their own, flames dancing blue and red. The stone felt alive underfoot.
And at the center—raised on a claw-like altar—sat the Heartstone.
It was crystalline, jagged, pulsing with crimson radiance like blood caught in firelight. It beat in time with Jackie's own pulse, a slow rhythm that began to quicken the longer he stared.
Yara exhaled reverently. "By the Sky-Taker…"
Kaden's voice was tight. "That's not a relic. That's a prison."
Jackie stepped forward, every instinct torn between reverence and hunger. The fire in his blood surged, the Wolfflame aching toward the stone as if pulled by kinship. He reached out—
—and the shrine groaned.
The floor trembled.
Stone cracked.
And the walls moved.
Twelve gargoyle statues lining the dome snapped to life. Eyes flared red. Wings cracked open. Stone fingers flexed with unnatural strength. One dropped from its perch like a hawk striking prey.
"DOWN!" Jackie shouted.
They scattered. The first gargoyle smashed into the ground where Jackie had stood, shattering stone tiles. Another hissed and lunged at Yara, who met it with twin blades, metal sparking against enchanted stone.
"This place is a test!" Jackie roared, backing toward the altar. "It's defending the relic!"
"No kidding!" Kaden shouted, ramming a spear through the chest of a winged brute. It crumbled, only to begin reforming seconds later, shards drawing toward each other with a magnetic shriek.
"They don't die," Yara panted. "Not unless we break the source!"
Jackie turned back to the altar.
The Heartstone pulsed brighter now, bathing the chamber in molten red light. It felt alive—furious, even. Not just a source of power, but a will.
He placed a hand on it.
Fire flooded his arm—scalding, sacred. His veins turned gold beneath the skin, and the Wolfflame erupted in his chest like a second soul awakening.
[Bloodline Level-Up: Wolfflame Tier I → Tier II]
[New Trait Gained: Ember Reflexes | Fire Alignment Enhanced]
Jackie gasped. The gargoyles slowed. Time stretched.
He saw their paths before they moved—stone limbs telegraphed in trailing heat-lines. His body reacted before thought, spear lashing through the air with fire trailing behind it like a comet's tail.
He moved like a flame given flesh.
"Yara! Kaden! To me!" he shouted, voice layered with power.
Together they sprinted for the gate.
But the shrine was collapsing.
The altar cracked. The ceiling split open, raining debris. A stone arm nearly caught Kaden, but Jackie spun and hurled a burst of flame from his palm—pure bloodline fire, not torchlight, not magic, but him.
The Heartstone blazed brighter in his hand.
The threshold loomed. The door—closing.
"GO!" Jackie roared.
They dove through the narrowing gap. Yara went first, sliding across rubble. Kaden leapt next, a winged gargoyle in pursuit. Jackie turned and howled—not with fear, but with ritual purpose.
The Wolfflame howl echoed through the chamber.
It struck the gargoyle like a wall of sound, freezing it mid-lunge. The mountain trembled at the ancient call.
Jackie hurled himself through the gate just as the shrine collapsed in on itself, sealing the relic's chamber in a thunderous crash of stone.
Silence.
Only the wind remained.
Outside, the cold air hit them like a baptism. They lay panting on the cliffside, snow melting around Jackie where the Heartstone pulsed in his grasp. It had gone quiet now, its fury banked.
But the fire remained.
Inside Jackie's chest, the second heartbeat throbbed, in perfect sync with his own.
[Heartstone Bonded – Power Yet Dormant. Trial Passed.]
He rose slowly, arm steaming, tattoos glowing faintly beneath his skin. "We have it."
Yara nodded, awed. "What does it… do?"
"I don't know," Jackie said. "Not all of it. Yet."
Kaden sat back, jaw clenched. "You… you shouldn't be able to wield it. That kind of power—it's not meant for you."
Jackie turned. "And why not?"
Kaden didn't answer. But his eyes burned.
Rivalry had been born. Or perhaps… awakened.
As the sun broke through the mountain mist, a cold wind whispered through the high stones. Yara stiffened.
"Did you hear that?"
"What?" Jackie asked, ears still ringing from the shrine.
"A voice. Faint. It said…"
She hesitated. Then whispered:
"The fire-child has stolen the Hollow Flame. The mountain remembers. The Hollow comes again."
Far away, in a rival valley, a clan-seer stirred in her trance, lips cracking as prophecy spilled from her mouth like blood:
"The Red Star will fall. The mountain will bleed. And the flame-born will burn both kin and crown."
End of Chapter 14