Kee'ilan's cruel smile sealed the challenge. He pointed his snout toward the base of the rocky ridge, where a shape that looked like a mountain determined to walk moved with the slowness of an avalanche: a Stonehide.
— If the Commander teaches that heat protects life, let's see if his follower survives the demon of the waters! — Kee'ilan declared, his words a trap. — I heard that Shal'falah brought one of these down alone. If Fauring is the heiress of that fire, let her prove her capability.
Shal'falah tried to intervene, but Fauring, moved by impulse, leaped forward. Her movements were fast, but the blindness of one who still didn't know the world prevented her from seeing the real danger.
The Stonehide was not just flesh; it was a living armor of hardened muscle.
The attack was a blur of silver against gray. Fauring struck the creature's flank, but her claws merely scratched the rocky hide. The counterattack was brutal. With a side swipe of its head, the Stonehide pinned the young female's paw against an edge of ice.
The sound that followed was the snap of a dry branch breaking in winter. The bone gave way as the pack watched in awe, and Fauring's paw was wrenched from her own body. She collapsed, blood staining the snow, as the creature prepared for the final blow.
— Snarl! — Shal'falah's roar reverberated through the valley.
Commander Shal threw himself at the beast with desperate ferocity. The creature, known only as Stonehide Crocodile for its almost impenetrable skin, barely moved.
The Commander's claws, which were natural extensions of his body, forged and sharpened for combat, gleamed, repeatedly trying to dig into the monster's carapace. The blows were violent, but the Stonehide was relentless, resisting each attack as if they were mere scratches.
Shal struck in anger, aiming for the few exposed joints of the creature. His movements were calculated, a dance of attack and dodge that, for a time, kept him out of the mortal reach of the beast's jaws.
However, each charge demanded an explosion of energy that he no longer posses. Sweat streamed down his face, the thin air entering and leaving his lungs in irregular gasps.
Physical exhaustion began to betray his movements, his reaction time slowed, the strength in his arms wavered slightly. He felt the animal's hard shell and the searing pain in his muscles.
The beast sensed the change.
With a roar that shook the ground, the Stonehide counterattacked, not with savagery, but with methodical, brute force. A side blow with its rock-layered arm hit the Commander's flank, throwing him against a cracked pillar.
Shal staggered, his vision blurred for an instant, the taste of blood in his mouth. He knew, with a cold certainty that pierced his chest, that he was losing. The fight was no longer a matter of skill, but of pure endurance, and the creature had more of it than he did.
And, unable to bear her brother's suffering, Tenzin-Ra rushed forward to flank the beast, trying to distract it so Shal could retreat with the wounded young female. But the monster did not yield. With a tail whip, it launched Tenzin-Ra against the embankment, leaving Shal'falah alone before death.
At that moment, the heat in Shal'falah's chest ceased to be a comfort and became an all-consuming hunger. He broke the rules created by the ancestral Guardians. His paws began to smoke and the air around him was distorted by waves of violent heat.
Ignoring the laws that prohibited the use of heat for extermination, Shal'falah dug his claws, now shining like an orange sun, into the Stonehide's neck.
The smell of burnt flesh fouled the air. The beast roared in terror before a power that defied the natural. Shal did not stop until the Stonehide collapsed, transformed into a charred carcass under the icy sky.
Kee'ilan, at the top of the slope, wore a triumphant smile. He did not need to speak; Shal'falah's crime screamed without a voice before everyone. The Commander, breathless and with his paws still smoking, observed his own limbs, marked by sacrilege.
The smoke rising from the carcass was an insult to the frigid air of Togan.
Kee'ilan descended the slope slowly, each step sounding like a sentence. The other young ones, who once admired Shal'falah, now recoiled with their eyes fixed on the sooty blackness of his paws.
— Look closely! — Kee'ilan said with authority. — See what happens when the 'Guardian' becomes a wildfire. He told us that the heat was to sustain life, but what I see here is the mark of destruction.
Shal'falah did not answer.
He felt his paws throbbing and a strange vibration in his blood. The fire did not want to go out; it was still scratching the inside of his veins. Tenzin-Ra got up and ran to Fauring, who was in shock.
— We need to stop this with the fire — she looked at her brother with a sadness that weighed more than the mountain itself: — Shal... what have you done?
— I saved her! — Shal said, his voice hoarse, as if he had swallowed embers.
— You saved her with a forbidden act! — Kee'ilan retorted. — The law is clear: the Silverclaw who kills any animal with fire loses the right to the clan. Did you forget that you are the commander? That the fire within us was not made for that purpose?
Fauring whimpered loudly. She looked at Shal'falah and he perceived fear in her — his follower now saw him as an entity of destruction.
Shal'falah gazed at the infinite sky of Togan, but the stars seemed to have extinguished their glow for him.
— Take her out of here, Tenzin! — Shal ordered. — The heat can help close the wound.
— And you? — his sister asked.
Shal'falah confronted Kee'ilan with his gaze, who was already leading the group away. The Commander knew that his leadership ended there.
— I will follow the trail of smoke — Shal answered, turning his back. — Until the ice forgives me or the fire finishes burning me up.
Kee'ilan growled with satisfaction as the clan departed.
Shal'falah was left alone with the corpse and the silence of the valley. Snow began to fall again, but, for the first time, it did not melt when it touched his paws.
The ice was winning the battle for his soul.