Chapter 7 The howl that splits

Chapter Seven: The Howl That Splits the Sky

The moment Mara struck, the battlefield paused-just for a breath.

Her claws, lit by the Bone Sigil's glow, raked across Alaric's blade with a metallic screech, sparks arcing like lightning. He staggered, not because of her strength, but because the earth beneath him had shifted. Literally.

Roots coiled up around his legs, twisting through cracks in the ground. The forest wasn't just answering anymore. It was fighting beside her.

Alaric snarled and slashed downward, severing the vines with a burst of glowing steel. His armor shimmered with enchantments-wards against nature, blessings of steel. But even so, the ground groaned beneath his weight.

Mara didn't let him recover. She rushed forward, faster than she'd ever moved, her senses sharpened to a blade's edge. He parried her first strike, but not the second. Her claws gouged his side, and blood-human, red-spilled across his silver plating.

"You bleed like the rest of us," she spat.

"And you die like them," he hissed.

They clashed again, faster, harder, spinning toward the ash tree's base. Around them, the battle roared. The Bound were holding, but barely. For every hunter they brought down, another seemed to rise, relentless and cold-eyed.

Kaelen fought beside Riven now, cutting a path through enemy lines toward Mara, but she was still too far.

"Hold on," Kaelen whispered. "Just hold on."

Clara had retreated to the warding lines, her hands burning with sigil-fire. She traced another defensive circle into the soil, whispering the names of the Old Trees-beings older than wolves, older than even the Bone Sigil.

A gust of cold wind blew through the clearing.

She paused.

Something new had arrived.

Not another hunter. Something worse.

Clara turned slowly, and her heart stilled.

A woman stood at the forest's edge. Tall. Robed in shadows. Her eyes gleamed silver, and her presence made the trees bend. Not with respect-with fear.

Clara's mouth went dry. "That's not possible."

Kaelen looked up from the battlefield. She felt it, too. Her grip on her blade tightened. "No..."

Riven froze mid-strike. "The High One."

Mara didn't hear them.

She was still locked with Alaric, neither gaining ground, both bleeding, both snarling.

But when the cold wind passed over them, Alaric grinned.

"She's here."

Mara blinked. "Who?"

"My mistress. The one who cleansed the old pacts and forged the Order from the ash of your ancestors."

The woman stepped forward, and the forest quieted. Even the wolves stopped mid-growl.

"My name," she said, voice soft and resonant, "is Seraphine. You carry something of mine, child."

Mara turned, heart pounding. The Bone Sigil flared at her throat.

"You forged this?" she asked.

"I buried it," Seraphine replied. "With the rest of the old ways. It was meant to stay dead."

The ground around Mara trembled.

"You're the one who cursed us."

Seraphine stepped closer. "No. I freed humanity from its dependence on beasts and soil. From the madness of nature worship. The Bound were wolves in human skin. I simply reminded the world of that."

Mara's voice shook with fury. "You killed packs. You burned villages. You made us afraid of our own blood."

"I restored order," Seraphine replied coldly.

Alaric dropped to one knee before her. "Mistress."

She placed a hand on his head. "You've done well."

Mara looked around. The Bound were falling back now, retreating to the Ash Tree. Even the forest spirits that had once surged forward had gone still. They remembered her. They feared her.

Kaelen reached Mara's side at last. "We can't fight her," she said under her breath.

"We don't have a choice."

"She's not just magic," Kaelen whispered. "She is magic. Old. Twisted. Immortal."

Riven limped up behind them. "Not immortal. She can still bleed."

"But not from steel," Clara said, arriving breathless.

Everyone looked at her.

Clara held out her hand. In it burned a small, flickering flame of green and violet.

"This is Heartfire," she said. "Born of root, blood, and the last whisper of the Old Grove. If she's tied to the forest's betrayal, then the forest can unmake her."

Mara stared. "You had that all along?"

Clara gave a humorless smile. "I only just finished it. Nearly cost me my soul."

Seraphine raised her hand then-and vines died. Roots crumbled. The Ash Tree groaned.

"Enough talk," she said. "I came for the sigil. Surrender it, and I will grant your people mercy."

Mara clenched her jaw. "We've had enough mercy from you."

She reached for the Heartfire.

Clara caught her arm. "Only one of Bound blood can carry it into her core."

"I am Bound," Mara said.

"No," Clara said gently. "You are more. And because of that, she'll never see me coming."

Mara's eyes widened. "Clara, no."

"You think I raised you just to see you die in a blaze of glory?" Clara smiled faintly. "I was always the distraction."

She turned, holding the Heartfire to her chest.

Seraphine laughed. "You're not one of them. You're a weed in a garden."

Clara stepped forward. "Maybe. But weeds are the first to come back after fire."

She ran.

Seraphine raised her hand-and the earth shattered, vines whipping like serpents.

Clara dodged one, then another. She leapt over a root. Fire blazing in her palm.

Mara screamed. "Clara!"

Seraphine turned, snarling-and that moment of distraction was all Mara needed.

She hurled the Bone Sigil into the air.

It caught the moonlight-and howled.

A deep, guttural roar echoed across the entire forest. Every Bound on the battlefield shifted in unison. The trees lit from within. The Ash Tree exploded with light.

The forest rose.

Clara reached Seraphine-and drove the Heartfire into her chest.

There was a scream-raw, furious, ancient.

Seraphine's body ignited with green flame. She clawed at the air, her scream fracturing the night.

Then she was gone.

Ash fell like snow.

The hunters fled.

The battle was over.

But the forest was changed.

Forever.