Chapter 6 Blood and bone

Chapter Six: Blood and Bone

The underground hollow of Ashgrove pulsed with a quiet tension.

Even as Mara stood surrounded by others like her-Bound from scattered bloodlines and broken packs-she felt the weight of their gazes. Of expectation.

The shard of obsidian in Riven's hand radiated a dark warmth. It wasn't just a relic-it was alive with something ancient, something watching.

"What is that?" Mara asked.

Riven held it out to her. "The Bone Sigil. A fragment of the First Pact."

Mara didn't move to take it. "What does it do?"

Kaelen answered instead. "It binds the soul of the forest to the one who carries it. In the old days, the sigils were held by the Forest Wardens. Leaders of the Bound."

"I'm no leader," Mara said.

"You're more than that," Riven replied. "You're proof the old magic still breathes."

Clara stepped forward. "And if she refuses it?"

"Then the forest will choose again," Riven said simply. "But it may not choose as kindly."

Silence followed.

Mara looked around the circle-the torches flickering against carved walls, the watching eyes, the lingering scent of ash and moss. Her fingers brushed the spiral carved into the stone beneath her feet.

She didn't feel ready.

But the forest hadn't asked if she was.

Mara reached out and took the sigil.

Heat pulsed through her palm, up her arm, straight into her chest. Her vision blurred. She staggered-but Kaelen caught her.

Voices filled her head. Old. Whispering. Not words, but memory.

A woman howling beneath a moonlit sky.

A pack gathered around a burning tree.

A child, her eyes glowing violet, reaching for a silver wolf.

Then it stopped.

Mara gasped, falling to her knees. The sigil burned a mark into her palm-a coiling spiral of roots and fangs.

"She's bonded," Riven said. "It's done."

But Mara didn't hear her. She was still caught in the echo of the visions.

She had seen the forest's memory.

And its warning.

That night, the others celebrated-food passed hand to hand, stories shared in low, laughing tones. But Mara sat apart, staring into the fire outside the Ash Tree.

Kaelen found her there, two cups of mead in hand.

"Still feeling it?" she asked, sitting beside her.

"It's not just a mark," Mara said. "It's a burden."

Kaelen passed her the cup. "Then let me help carry it."

Mara looked at her. "Why do you care?"

Kaelen hesitated, then answered, "Because you remind me of who I was, before the fire. Before I became just a blade and a name. You haven't hardened yet. That means you're still fighting for something worth saving."

Mara swallowed. The warmth of the fire, of the mead, of Kaelen's nearness-it was almost too much.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she admitted.

Kaelen smiled. "No leader ever does. They just pretend louder than the rest."

They sat in silence for a long time, the sounds of laughter and music behind them. Then Kaelen added, "When the Order comes, they won't hold back. And the others here? They're not ready."

"I barely am."

"You're more ready than you think," Kaelen said. "Because you still believe we can win."

A week passed.

Training intensified. Rituals were taught. Ward sigils were carved around the Ash Tree's roots. Mara learned from Riven how to channel the Bone Sigil, how to call on the forest's strength in moments of crisis.

"You don't command the forest," Riven explained. "You ask. And if it believes in your cause, it answers."

Sometimes it did.

Other times, it remained silent.

Clara worked beside the Circle, helping craft defenses with knowledge from her years on the fringe. She was no witch, but she had learned enough to make the earth listen.

"They'll come during the next new moon," she said one night, hands stained with ward-ink. "Alaric may have failed, but he won't return alone."

Kaelen agreed. "The Order is a many-headed beast. Cut one down, three more rise. And some of them... they don't care if we're peaceful."

Mara looked at the Bone Sigil, which now rested in a leather pouch around her neck. Its weight never left her.

"What happens if they break through?" she asked.

Riven answered darkly. "Then we fight. With claw, tooth, and flame."

The new moon arrived like a blade sliding from its sheath-quiet, cold, and inevitable.

The sky above Ashgrove turned pitch, stars swallowed whole.

They came just after midnight.

It began with a single howl-long and mournful, not wolf but human. A war cry.

Then the trees screamed.

Blades of silver light shattered the outer wards. Fire arrows rained down. Men in black cloaks and iron masks marched into the clearing, weapons drawn, eyes glowing faintly blue-enchanted. Controlled.

Bound surged to meet them. Some shifted mid-run. Others fought in human form with clawed gauntlets or crude spears laced with moonstone.

Mara stood at the heart of the clearing, the Bone Sigil glowing at her throat.

She saw Alaric among them.

No longer alone.

He wore ceremonial armor now-etched with ancient runes, his blade brighter than ever. His eyes found Mara through the chaos.

"You should've killed me," he shouted across the battlefield. "Now I'll finish what I started."

Mara didn't reply.

Instead, she raised her hand-and the forest answered.

Roots burst from the ground, coiling around invaders. Vines snapped like whips. The Ash Tree glowed faintly from within, casting silver light across the ground.

The earth remembered.

Kaelen was a blur beside her, teeth flashing, blade singing. Clara defended the wounded, setting firetraps that turned the very soil against the enemy.

But still, they came.

One reached Mara-too fast to stop. He raised a glaive.

Then a wolf she didn't recognize leapt from the shadows and tore him down.

More joined. From every side.

Riven's voice boomed from the Ash Tree: "The forest calls all who once served! Answer now!"

And they did.

Forgotten Bound. Lone wolves. Exiles.

Dozens emerged from the darkness to fight beneath the branches of the sacred tree.

Mara met Alaric at the center of the storm.

He swung.

She blocked.

They danced between light and shadow, blood and breath, the forest watching.

"You think you're chosen," he growled. "But you're just another cursed girl pretending to be more."

"No," Mara said, eyes burning with violet light. "I am more."

She struck-and the Bone Sigil blazed.