Fenris sank deeper and deeper, holding his breath. He felt the snow around him getting thicker and colder. He thought it was unbearable—but not as much as what would happen if he failed.
He no longer felt the thick, cold snow. Now, rock and grains scraped against him as he continued to sink.
"Mmmph—" He stopped himself from breathing. He wasn't sure how long he could keep it up or how long he had been sinking.
He began to feel lightheaded; his lungs felt like they were about to explode.
'Hold it in a little longer,' he thought, agonized. And it only got worse. The rocks began to heat up, almost cooking Fenris alive.
He grunted, his fangs biting down on his lower lip, still holding on to what little breath he had left despite his body screaming at him not to.
He burst through a rock ceiling, landing and tumbling onto hard, rocky ground.
He gasped for air, spitting and coughing out bits of rock in the process.
"That felt like an eternity," Fenris let out, his eyes fluttering open, revealing some sort of cave.
All around him was a flowing river of lava, with patches of solid ground to pass. He pushed himself against a wall, resting and snacking on the remaining dried meat in his pouch.
"I thought this entire world was covered in snow. Looks like I was wrong," he said, unsure if that was a good thing or not.
"Buck said he would find me. The smart thing to do would be to wait."
Fenris felt a heavy knot in his gut as he uttered that sentence.
"To hells with that. I'm finding my own way out."
Fenris brought out his map from his inner pocket and looked at it. Unlikely to work in this world, but it had been a habit he picked up whenever he got lost.
He scoffed in disbelief.
"I don't believe this."
His map did work in this world. It didn't show the kingdoms as it did before, but something entirely new—figures, landscapes.
The wolf's head representing him still remained.
Among the animated new figures shown on his map, a few of them piqued Fenris's interest.
A spiral vortex shifting between locations: portals. A lightning bolt—no, some kind of tear: rifts. Buildings scattered throughout the map, seeming in a bad state: ruins. A nest: safe zones.
And—another wolf's head, larger and pulsating with a dark smog: trials.
He chuckled slightly. He didn't need Buck as much as he'd thought after all. And speaking of Buck—
Fenris's eyes shifted to the corner of the map and stopped at a squeaking, shifty ferret: Buck.
When Luna created the map, she had added Buck to it despite many protests. He eventually surrendered and agreed to her suggestion—on one condition: he would choose what Buck represented.
The ferret was scurrying all around.
'He is looking for me.'
Fenris could use the map to reunite with Buck, but he wouldn't. Not yet, anyway.
He stood, taking in his surroundings. His senses—sight and hearing—had yet to return to their original state, but he still had his superhuman smell.
He began to sniff the hot, almost painful air.
Buck had deliberately hidden facts about this world from him in an effort to control him. Well, no more. He would explore this world himself.
He stepped forward. His stomach growled, echoing through the cave. He fell to his knees. His golden irises flared—only for a moment.
'Looks like I didn't have enough meat.'
He rummaged through his dimensional pouch. Empty.
'So Buck wins—again. Damn it!' Fenris said, stomping a fist into the hard, rocky ground, forming a large crack.
He sat, defeated—or maybe not.
He turned to his side. The giant elemental's core—the one he had just slain—was in his sights. Maybe the heat had melted away its freezing bond. Fenris picked it up, trying to confirm a suspicion.
Placing an ear to it, he heard a sound resonating with its glowing light. A steady, rhythmic, almost harmonious thumping. He would recognize it anywhere.
With both hands, he cracked the large core into two. The light dimmed. In both halves, Fenris saw it—
Two halves of a heart, leaking blue, half-frozen blood.
There was meat in this world—if he could truly call it that. He just knew it wasn't made of rock; therefore, it was edible. Hopefully.
The sweet, rotting smell of death crashed into his nostrils, but unlike the many other times he had hunted prey, this time the scent was more preserved—more alluring.
His fangs grew, and he salivated. Before he knew it, he was devouring both halves of the strange heart.
"Augh—"
Fenris grabbed his chest, almost as if trying to claw his way through it. His heart stopped, and he fell to the floor.
Then it restarted—but slower.
A frosty, thorn-like pain spread throughout his entire body. It didn't lessen; instead, his tolerance for it increased.
He stood, studying himself. The heat from the magma no longer affected him, though it wasn't like Buck's veil.
He felt energy—cold—traveling within him, bursting, wanting to be released.
"AAHHH!" he roared, the sound echoing throughout the cave.
Then he turned to a wall, punching it over and over again.
Debris fell from the rocky roof into the flowing magma as his section of the cave vibrated. After a while, he stopped. A shallow crater more than twice his size lay before him.
A feat he could have performed even before consuming the strange elemental meat—but something was different.
He looked at his knuckles. Barely a scratch.
"I'm more durable," Fenris said, chuckling. "Is this your secret? Is this how you got stronger than me, Buck? You should have guarded your secrets better."
"But still—"
This acquired strength wasn't perfect. Even now, Fenris felt the power within him dwindling. He heard screeching roars and the sounds of battle from the distance, shifting his attention from his fists to a dark, unknown path.
He smirked, his slow-beating heart racing as much as it could.
"I may as well test what I can do with this power while I still have it," he said eagerly. He walked toward the monsters' path, but not before collecting more elemental cores along the way.
"Who knows. I might need it."
Meanwhile…
Gwendolyn stood before the rune-scribed portal wall, arms crossed and lightly tapping her elbows.
She had just sent Fenris and Buck off to one of the other worlds. Time wasn't always parallel in other worlds, especially when crossing through the portals.
It would take some time before they would return. But it wasn't them she was waiting for. She heard running from behind. Her shoulders tightened, and she let out a sigh, hoping to lessen the weight.
It didn't help.
Aria was behind her. Leather armor over her rough green clothes and a fine runed bow on her shoulder.
"Gwen, I'm here. I hope I wasn't…" Aria paused, her fists clenched and trembling. "…late."
The two stood in awkward silence, Gwendolyn not turning back.
"Are you going to stand there like a coward?" Aria asked, vexed.
"Maybe," Gwendolyn said reluctantly.
Aria turned and began to walk away.
"Aria, wait," Gwendolyn said, regretful. She walked and reached for Aria.
"Don't you dare!" Aria screamed. Her irises glowed slightly, accompanied by a harsh roar.
"You… you lied to me. You told me that you would let me go when Lycan wasn't around."
"I did, but… I changed my mind," Gwendolyn said.
"You changed your mind, huh?" Aria said spitefully.
It hurt Gwendolyn. She placed her hand on her elbow. Aria may have been rash, but she wasn't stupid. It wasn't fair for Gwendolyn to treat her as such.
"You know how Lycan is. It's too dangerous for any of us to go against him. I was just trying to protect you."
Aria laughed. At first, it seemed purposeful and sarcastic, but then… its tone shifted to something sorrowful and lingering.
"Protecting me? Yeah, that's what everyone here seems so desperate to do."
She turned to Gwendolyn with a teary, flushed expression. Gwendolyn's heart twisted.
"I'm not helpless," Aria said, her voice cracking.
"I'm not saying you are," Gwendolyn replied.
"Then why the hell do you keep treating me like that?" Aria screamed, panting heavily.
Gwendolyn wanted to approach, but Aria's slight growl kept her at bay.
"I've trained for this. Since the moment Lycan brought Alden and me here—for years. I've earned this. I just want to prove myself like the rest of the pack."
"And you will, when you're seventeen."
"That's two years from now! The ritual will already have been found by then. And the only thing I would have accomplished is staying here and doing nothing."
"The only time I leave this stupid castle is when Lycan makes me attend those boring events."
"I feel…" Aria paused, trying to regain her breath. "... I feel like I'm losing my mind, Gwen. I have to do something. I have to make them pay."
Aria's voice cracked. She looked away, trying to hold in her anguish.
"Aria…" Gwendolyn said, reaching for her.
"Stay back," Aria growled.
"Just let me—"
"I said stay back," Aria said, growling.
"Don't be stubborn," Gwendolyn said.
"AAAHH…" Aria screamed, taking a swipe at Gwendolyn.
"Ahhhh—" Gwendolyn cried out, holding a bleeding palm.
Panting heavily and looking red, Aria's eyes filled with regret.
"Gwen, I…" Aria paused.
"It's okay," Gwendolyn said, holding a hand up—maybe for reassurance, or maybe just to keep Aria away. With a soft incantation, Gwendolyn's injured palm glowed, then healed.
"See," Gwendolyn raised both hands in the air, putting on a smile. Aria saw right through it. She saw the fear and discomfort Gwendolyn was trying to hide.
Aria looked away and walked.
"Aria, where are you going?" Gwendolyn asked.
"That's a stupid question," Aria replied. "To my room. Where else?"
Normally, she would storm through the spiral steps leading in and out of the underground cave, but this time she lowered her pace, reflecting.
She could go to Alden to vent, but he always said the same things—about how everyone was just looking out for her, telling her to be patient.
If Buck were around, he'd have no trouble making her laugh and forget the whole thing. Even now, she chuckled slightly, thinking of him.
Beowulf knew she was ready, but he would never go against Lycan. He had already done enough by pleading with him to train her, and she wouldn't put him in that position again.
Which left her with—no one.
She opened her room door, slamming it into the stone wall. Runes glowed and vibrated through it, protecting it from impact. Gwendolyn's work.
She closed it, and a different set of runes flowed for silence.
She didn't head for her large, well-dressed bed, but instead for a large, broken wall in her room, sitting there with her feet dangling from it.
She breathed in the pure night breeze as it brushed through her long red hair and let out a large sigh, over and over again—a calming exercise taught to her by her father.
It worked, mostly at night, when she could almost feel the moon. She thought of him, or tried to.
His appearance was slowly fading from her memories, but she remembered the little things—his voice, the way he spoke to her, the way he scolded her. The way he made her hair—it was terrible, but at least he tried.
She also remembered—
She clenched her fists, her claws scraping the faded marble floors.
Fire at the barn, the pigs running for safety. Her father carrying and protecting her and Alden from an armored hunter.
"No!" she cried, panting. "Not again." She crouched, bringing her knees to her face.
"What am I supposed to do, Pa? What would you say?" Her voice cracked, tears rolling down her cheeks. She scrubbed them away quickly. What would be the point?
"I keep telling everyone I'm not a child. I better start acting like it."
She looked below, her gaze drifting to the greenery surrounding the castle. Beowulf should be doing some late training about now.
Her eyes widened. He wasn't there.
"Then where—" She paused, realizing something. "He's probably with the children."
Some of the pack members had young ones—some who hadn't awakened their lycanthropy. All in Lycan's and Beowulf's care.
"He must be checking on them. He may be there all night even."
An idea of rebellion began forming in Aria's mind. She looked even further. Her wolf eyes saw Gwendolyn's barrier as clear as day.
"If I want freedom… if I want the chance to prove myself—now's the time."
She rushed to her closet, not grabbing clothes, but her arsenal.
Arrows—a lot of them. She could only carry fifty in person. The rest—many hundreds—would have to go into her dimensional pouch.
Her secondary weapon to her bow: a short, curved blade from one of the five great kingdoms—Aerys. A wakizashi. Some dried meat and water. A crossbow as a final weapon.
"That's everything."
She rushed to the broken wall, but stopped. Guilt pulled her back like a chain.
"What about Alden?" Her voice softened.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of any attachments.
"He's… he's always liked it better here anyway. He'll be fine without me. But still—"
She rushed to a sturdy table to write a letter. As she did, her head pained, and the words—
She grunted. They struggled to remain in place. She finished and left it somewhere her brother would notice.
Before leaving, she took one final thing: a patch with a drawing of a wolf with a golden mane and red eyes.
Standing on the edge, she took one final look back.
"Goodbye."
The moon finally showed it, empowering her. If that wasn't a sign she was doing the right thing, she didn't know what was.
She leaped off. Claws extended from her hands, and her shoeless, but bandaged and tied, feet dug into the castle walls, creating sparks as she descended.
Now on the grassy ground, she ran on all fours, passing through the barrier and heading to the only other place she knew with a portal to other worlds.
To Agni.