Chapter 5 A Feral Test

The next day dawned without any sunlight. Instead, a thick, gray fog had settled over the forest, wrapping the trees in a chilly embrace that made everything feel a bit haunting. Vaela pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders and kept her dagger at the ready. There was something unsettling in the air, and even the wind seemed to carry eerie warnings.

Kael was in front, moving quietly and scanning their surroundings, while Rowan followed behind, his eyes darting cautiously. The trio moved through the woods, pausing every now and then as the memory of the previous night hung heavily in their minds. Vaela couldn't shake the feeling that something about her had changed. The humming sensation from the mysterious box was still with her and seemed to spread through her veins, but she hadn't shared that with Kael or Rowan. Not yet.

As they ventured deeper, they reached a narrow pathway flanked by jagged rocks. Kael raised his hand, signaling for them to stop. Vaela's heart raced as they froze in their spots. She could sense something was off, and Rowan, ever the hunter, did too. He leaned forward slightly and sniffed the air.

"Do you smell that?" he asked, his voice low and tense.

Vaela shook her head, a knot tightening in her stomach. "What is it?"

"Blood," Kael replied, his voice just above a whisper.

Suddenly, the calm of the moment shattered. From the cliffs above, dark shapes lunged down at them. Wolves-wild, rough, and fierce-descended with menacing snarls. These weren't ordinary pack wolves; they were rogues, aggressive and untamed.

Instinct kicked in as Kael raised his sword, meeting the first wolf mid-air in a clash of teeth and metal. Vaela barely had time to react when one of the rogues lunged at her. She twisted away just in time, but its claws shredded the edge of her cloak as she stumbled back.

Then, out of nowhere, another rogue crashed into her side. Pain shot through her shoulder as she tumbled down the slope, landing hard on the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and everything around her blurred for a brief moment. She felt paralyzed.

"Vaela!" Rowan's voice was faint but urgent, calling out from somewhere in the trees. She wanted to respond, to tell him she was okay, but all she could do was struggle against the weight of the rogue pressing down on her. Its teeth bared, ready to strike.

In a panic, she raised her dagger, but the beast swatted it from her grip effortlessly. It growled menacingly, pushing down on her as she fought for breath. Then, something inside her snapped.

A surge of heat radiated from her chest, causing her to gasp. Bright light erupted-vivid reds and golds-blasting outward with a force that threw the rogue back, away from her. She sat up, breathless, staring in disbelief as the creature writhed in fear and fled.

The others halted mid-fight, both Kael and Rowan standing poised and ready, but now the rogues were watching her, not with savagery but with something akin to awe.

"What did you do?" Kael asked, stepping carefully toward her, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity.

"I...I don't know," Vaela stuttered, still reeling from the experience.

From the back of the pack of rogues emerged a tall, grizzled wolf, his fur a rugged gray, with countless scars marking his body. He shifted smoothly into human form, revealing a weary-looking man with steely eyes and a stern expression.

"Who are you?" he demanded, glaring at Vaela.

"Vaela Stormriven," she replied, mustering her courage to stand tall before him.

The man's expression shifted slightly as his eyes narrowed. "Stormriven. From Duskwind," he said, as if weighing her words carefully.

She did not respond, feeling a mix of annoyance and confusion churn within her. He studied her intently for a moment before waving a hand at the other rogues. "Lower your weapons."

The tension in the air eased as they complied. Kael blinked in surprise. "What's happening?"

The older rogue gestured toward Vaela. "Come closer. We need to have a chat."

With a sense of uncertainty, they followed the rogues deeper into the woods until they reached a valley that felt almost lost to time. Crumbling statues and dilapidated watchtowers told stories of battles long gone, a history hidden beneath the forest floor.

They arrived at a rogue camp, a clearing filled with makeshift huts and fire pits, where wary eyes watched them approach-some curious, others filled with anger. Vaela kept her chin up and met their curious gazes head-on.

Thorne, as the grizzled man introduced himself, led them to a small tent. The warmth inside contrasted sharply with the cold air outside, and a mix of herbaceous scents filled her nostrils.

"I'm Thorne," he said, settling beside the small fire. "Once upon a time, I was an Alpha. But that was ages ago."

Vaela remained standing, crossing her arms defensively. "Why didn't you just kill us when you had the chance?"

Thorne shrugged as if it was a trivial matter. "Because, whatever you might be, you're not just normal. That light that erupted from you-it's ancient magic. It's something buried and dangerous."

Kael crossed his arms, eyebrow raised. "We didn't come here looking for trouble."

Thorne chuckled softly. "Who said anything about trouble? But the forest is shifting. The air is wrong, charged with something awakening. And you," he pointed a finger at Vaela, "you're tied to it."

She didn't argue with him.

Thorne nodded, as if having confirmed his thoughts. "You have power. It's raw and untrained. If you keep letting it run wild like that, it'll consume you."

Rowan interjected, his voice filled with urgency, "Can you help her?"

"I can try," Thorne replied, but a hint of skepticism was evident in his tone. "If she can withstand the training."

Vaela locked eyes with him, determination flaring. "I will."

Thorne smiled slightly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "We'll see about that."

That night, Thorne led her to a clearing illuminated by flaming torches. Surrounding her were warriors of various types-rogues with hardened expressions and sharp instincts. Beside Thorne stood a woman cloaked in dark blue. Her eyes were an eerie pale and cloudy; she was blind.

"This is Mira," Thorne said, nodding toward her. "She has the gift of seeing magic. Yours included."

Mira stepped closer, reaching out to touch Vaela's cheek with her cold fingers. "You hold a storm within you," she murmured, her voice soft yet intense. "It's both twisted and beautiful, but it will be your doom if you let it consume you."

Vaela stood her ground. "Then teach me how to control it."

Mira tilted her head slightly. "That's contingent on whether you're ready to break."

"I already have," Vaela declared, her voice steady.

And so the training commenced.

It was grueling. From dawn until dusk, they pushed her beyond her limits. Physical exercises, sparring matches, intense meditation-Mira taught her to truly feel the magic, while Thorne schooled her in the rogue way of fighting-quick, brutal, and without the usual rules of combat.

There were nights when exhaustion brought her to tears. Other nights, frustration bubbled over, and she screamed at her own limitations. But with every passing day, she felt herself getting stronger.

With each week, her feelings toward Draven grew darker. He had cast her aside, mocking her as her heart shattered. But not anymore. She would rise to be someone he could never dismiss again. Someone people would fear and respect.

Days turned into weeks, and one night during sparring, her power surged anew, but this time she guided it. Flames danced from her fingertips, and she didn't even flinch at the sight.

The other rogues stepped back warily, and Thorne nodded in approval. "You're figuring it out," he said.

But as the fire began to dwindle, Mira's voice cut through the air. "The darkness is aware of you now."

Vaela turned to her, defiance in her gaze. "Let it come."

And high above, nestled within the trees, something observed them. Waiting. Hungry.