The world felt… warmer.
Not just in temperature, but in presence—like something ancient had nestled inside him and decided to stay.
He still knelt on the shrine's ruined platform, its stones now cracked and glowing faintly underfoot. The ghostly fire that had ignited the moment he stepped forward had long since vanished, but a deep heat still simmered in his chest. Not painful. Not overwhelming.
Just there.
Watching. Waiting.
Lyra stood in silence across from him, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her expression was unreadable—eyes fixed on him, but focused far beyond. Her lips moved like she was trying to form words, but none came out.
The wind moved through the hollow shrine, scattering ashes across the moss-covered stone.
Finally, he stood.
"You okay?" he asked gently.
Lyra blinked, startled like she hadn't realized she'd been staring. She gave a short nod. "I didn't know that could happen."
"You mean the shrine?"
"No. I mean… him."
She took a step closer. Her voice dropped to a hush. "Emberfang was part of me. I thought that bond died with him. But it didn't. It found you."
He didn't know what to say. This wasn't just some random power-up. This meant something. Not just for her—but for them.
And Emberfang hadn't just chosen him because of potential.
He'd chosen him because of Lyra.
"You think it's because of the system?" he asked. "The way our links are stabilized?"
Lyra shook her head slowly. "No. That bond was real. Deeper than mechanics."
Her eyes searched his face.
"He saw you. The way I'm starting to."
Before he could speak, the System pinged again.
SYSTEM UPDATE:
New Location Discovered: "Fangrest Hollow – Minor Ancestral Site"
Beast Shrine Network Initialized (1/12 Shrines Awakened)
Hidden Quest Unlocked: "In the Footsteps of Ancients"
Objective: Locate the next ancestral shrine
Reward: +1 Beast Sigil Slot | +Passive Beast Buff
His heart skipped.
"Wait," he said, scanning the air in front of him. "Twelve shrines?"
Lyra leaned in to look. Her fingers hovered near the projection, as if drawn to the flickering sigil that now hovered like a constellation.
"Twelve original guardian beasts," she murmured. "Old legends say they were the first creatures ever tamed by mortals. Back before the Arcanite storms shattered the ley-lines. No one believed the shrines were real."
"But this one was," he said, glancing around. "And it found us."
Lyra smiled faintly, but the shadow of uncertainty still lingered in her eyes. "Be careful," she said. "That kind of power always comes with something behind it. If you carry Emberfang now… you'll carry his enemies too."
Later, at CampThey set up camp beneath a thick canopy just past the shrine. Lyra was quieter than usual, fiddling with her carving knife as she worked a small piece of whitebone into shape.
The fire between them crackled softly. The tamed beast—he'd taken to calling it Shadowmaw—curled beside him, tail twitching but peaceful.
"So," he finally said. "That memory… when Emberfang bonded to me. I saw you. As a kid."
Lyra paused. "Yeah?"
He nodded. "You were kneeling. Bleeding. Reaching out."
She didn't meet his gaze. "It was the first time I tamed something I should've run from."
A long silence passed. The kind that wasn't awkward—but raw. Open.
"I think he saw that in you," she added quietly. "You don't try to control things. You just… listen. That's rare. And dangerous. Most people want to use beasts. You make them want to follow."
He swallowed. "And you? Why are you still following me?"
Lyra looked up, eyes sharp but soft. "Because you're not what this world expects. And because… when I look at you, I don't just see power."
She handed him the whitebone carving. It was a fang, smooth and polished, etched with an ancient sigil he recognized immediately.
Emberfang's.
"For luck," she said, voice barely above a whisper.
He closed his fingers around it, pulse hammering in his chest.
"Thanks," he murmured.
"No," she said. "Thank you. For carrying the fire."
Meanwhile… ElsewhereDarkness moved beneath the surface of the world.
In a tower shaped like a fang piercing the clouds, a woman cloaked in beast-hide stood before a throne made of horn and glass. Her eyes glowed the color of oil on water—corrupted, fractured.
A scout kneeled before her, body trembling.
"My lady… the first shrine has been awakened."
The woman's lips curved into a smile that showed far too many teeth.
"Then the others will stir soon. Just as he foresaw."
She stood, the ground beneath her feet cracking with every step.
"And when they do, we'll burn what's left of Viraelon."