Chapter 5 When Wolves Dream of Fire

The catacombs whispered to Auren in languages long buried beneath soil and time. She moved cautiously, torchlight flickering against damp stone, the scent of moss and old blood mingling in the air. Kael followed behind her, silent but ever-watchful, his presence a quiet anchor in the wake of the ritual's tremors.

The passage beneath the Wyrm Tree was narrow, carved by hands both reverent and terrified. Bones lay embedded in the walls-some marked with glyphs, others cracked as if something had tried to claw its way free. The deeper they descended, the thicker the silence grew. Not dead silence-this place pulsed, alive with secrets too long kept.

"You feel that?" Kael murmured behind her.

Auren nodded. "It's like... memory. But not mine."

"The catacombs hold echoes," he said. "Every sacrifice. Every broken vow."

They reached a wider chamber. Stone pillars circled its center, their surfaces covered in layered runes. In the middle stood a cracked dais, atop which sat the remnants of a blackened crown. It shimmered faintly in the torchlight, its edges scorched and cracked.

"The Ember Crown," Kael whispered. "Your mother wore it during the last rite. Before the Circle turned on her."

Auren stepped forward. "Why leave it here?"

"Because no one dared claim it," he said. "It's a symbol of defiance. Of what happens when the Pact is broken."

Auren reached for it.

Her fingers brushed the metal and a searing heat raced up her arm-visions flooded her mind: Lira Vale, her mother, standing at the heart of the Hollow, flames rising at her back. Auren as a child, shielded in trembling arms. The Circle's judgment. Chains of light. The sound of fire consuming everything.

She staggered back.

Kael caught her.

"I saw it," she breathed. "Her final moment. She wasn't pleading. She was warning them."

"She knew the Wyrm wouldn't stay buried forever."

Auren steadied herself, then lifted the crown and placed it into the folds of her cloak. "Then let it be more than a symbol."

Back in the Hollow, the air had turned colder. The sky above the Vale was cloudless, yet the trees shivered. Word of the ritual had already begun to ripple through the village. Some claimed the Wyrm's magic had cursed the land again. Others whispered that the Vale's true heir had awakened.

When Auren entered the village square with Kael, conversations ceased. Children were ushered away. Merchants turned their backs. At the far edge, a group of villagers stood clustered around a banner-black cloth with a silver flame stitched at its center.

Kael frowned. "The Ashbound."

"The what?"

"A faction of loyalists who still believe in the old ways," he said. "They think the Wyrm must choose. That its hunger must be fed to keep us safe."

"And they know the Circle won't protect me forever," Auren said bitterly.

From the crowd, a voice rang out. "Witchborn!"

Auren turned slowly.

A young man stepped forward, tall and broad-shouldered, with an angular jaw and burn-scarred hands. "You should've stayed buried beneath that tree."

Kael tensed beside her. "Don't."

"I'm not afraid," Auren said.

The man sneered. "You think because you sit in the seventh seat, we'll kneel? You think a crown of ash makes you queen?"

Auren stepped forward. "No. But I remember what this village was before fear made it small. Before fire was a curse."

Someone threw a stone.

It struck her shoulder.

She didn't flinch.

Kael raised his voice. "Enough!"

But more stones followed. The crowd surged.

Then came the howl.

It echoed from the woods, long and deep-cutting through the air like a blade. The villagers froze. A shadow moved between trees at the forest's edge. Then another. And another.

Wolves.

Not just any wolves-larger than natural, their eyes glowing with amber fire.

The crowd began to scatter in terror.

Kael drew his dagger and stood at Auren's side.

One of the wolves emerged fully from the shadows-and shifted.

A tall woman with deep copper skin and eyes like burning coals stepped forward, robes woven from pelts and bark. A tattoo of a crescent moon curled beneath her left eye.

"Stand down," she commanded.

The villagers obeyed.

Auren blinked. "Who are you?"

The woman's gaze fixed on her. "Someone who remembers the Pact before it was broken. You wear the fire well, child."

Kael lowered his blade but didn't relax. "You're from the Southern Packs."

The woman nodded. "We heard the Wyrm stir. The Hollow called. And we answered."

"You crossed the border," Kael said. "That's forbidden."

"So was killing the Flamekeeper," the woman said. "Yet here we are."

Auren stepped forward. "You knew my mother?"

"She spared my life once, when the Circle would've let me burn for bearing twin souls." Her eyes locked with Auren's. "I've waited a long time for her line to rise again."

"What do you want from me?"

"Not what I want," she said. "What the forest demands. The fire that sleeps in your blood-it's not meant for containment. It's meant for cleansing. For reckoning."

Auren thought of the spellbook. Of the ritual.

"I want to break the Pact," she said.

The woman didn't blink. "Then you must walk the dreams of fire."

"What does that mean?"

Kael tensed beside her. "It's a rite of flame-walkers. A trial by memory and pain."

"Only those who survive the fire may command it," the woman said. "If you truly wish to challenge the Wyrm's cycle, your spirit must burn."

That night, they gathered in the clearing beside the Wyrm Tree. The woman-whose name was Thera-drew a circle in the earth, marked it with ash and bone. Around them, her wolves sat silent, eyes aglow.

Auren stood at the center, Kael just beyond the circle.

Thera approached with a vial of black oil and an obsidian blade.

"You will see everything you have buried," she warned. "Your greatest fear. Your greatest truth. If you resist it, you will be consumed."

Auren nodded. "I'm ready."

Thera poured the oil over Auren's brow, then pricked her palm with the blade. Blood met ash. Fire bloomed around her like a blooming star.

Then the world vanished.

She was in the Hollow-but not as it was now. The sky above blazed orange. Smoke curled in the air. Screams echoed from every direction. Children fled burning homes. The Wyrm Tree crackled with blue fire.

She turned-and saw herself. A child, clutching a wooden doll, eyes wide with horror.

And her mother-Lira Vale-standing before the Circle, arms bound, hair soaked with blood.

"Please," young Auren cried. "Don't take her!"

But the Circle did not hear.

A blade rose. The crowd chanted. Fire leapt.

And then it all froze.

Auren stepped forward.

Her child-self looked at her, eyes filled with tears. "You didn't save her."

"I couldn't," Auren whispered.

"You didn't try."

Auren dropped to her knees. "I was only a child."

"So was I," her younger self said. "But now you're not."

The flames shifted-turned blue, then gold, then vanished. In their place stood the Ember Crown, whole and unbroken. Her mother's voice whispered on the wind.

"You cannot burn what has become fire."

Auren reached out-and felt the flame move through her, not as pain, but as purpose.

She stood.

The vision faded.

When she awoke, the fire around her had died to embers. Kael knelt beside her, face pale with worry.

"You were gone for hours," he said. "You didn't move."

Thera stood nearby, silent.

Auren slowly sat up. Her skin glowed faintly. The mark on her chest now shimmered like liquid gold.

"What did you see?" Kael asked.

"Everything," she said.

Thera nodded. "Then you've passed."

Auren looked at the Wyrm Tree. The bark had cracked further. A dark sap bled from its core.

"The forest is changing," Kael said quietly.

"No," Auren corrected. "It's remembering."

As dawn crept across the Vale, the villagers awoke to find the Ember Crown displayed in the center of the square-no longer blackened, but whole. Around it, sigils glowed with faint fire, forming a circle of protection.

Those who dared step close heard the whispers of the past-of Lira Vale, of defiance, of truth buried in ash.

And at the Wyrm Tree, Auren stood with Kael and Thera, staring at the sky as clouds began to darken.

"We started something," Kael said.

"No," Auren replied. "We've woken something."

Above them, thunder rumbled.

Below, the Wyrm stirred.