The thing roared—and the world shattered.
Duncan flung himself aside as the beast lunged, its claws gouging a deep trench into the earth where he'd just stood. Vey let loose an arrow, but the shaft splintered against the creature's bony hide. The smell of musk and damp earth filled the air, heavy and choking.
It moved like a nightmare—half-wolf, half-forest. A predator built by the wilds themselves.
"Circle it!" Duncan shouted, rising to one knee, blood dripping from a shallow cut on his brow. "Don't give it a straight line!"
Marra and Garran flanked left, spears forward, while Rell and Kel looped wide to the right. The creature turned with uncanny awareness, eyes never leaving Duncan's. Not even when a crossbow bolt thudded into its shoulder.
It didn't flinch.
Instead, it snarled—and charged.
Duncan raised his sword, feet grounded, trying not to let the tremble in his chest show. Time slowed.
The beast's eyes locked with his.
And something inside him stirred.
A heat behind his ribs. A low hum in his ears. Not fear, but recognition. As if something ancient in his blood had been waiting for this moment.
The beast faltered—not by much, just half a step—but enough.
Duncan moved.
He rolled low, slicing upward as he passed beneath its outstretched claw. The edge of his blade met flesh, scraping through fur and bone plating. A spray of dark blood hissed into the air.
The creature howled.
And the clearing became war.
Spears danced like silver lightning. Garran roared as he thrust into the beast's side, his blow glancing off bone armor. Vey took another shot, this time aiming for the exposed throat.
The arrow found its mark.
The beast staggered—but didn't fall. Instead, it reared up and brought its claws down on Rell, slamming him into the earth with the force of a falling tree.
"Rell!" Kel cried.
Duncan dashed forward, leaping onto the creature's back, driving his sword between its shoulder blades. It screamed—a sound not of pain, but fury—and thrashed, flinging him off like a twig.
He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from his lungs.
The world spun.
The stars above the trees blurred.
And then, once again, their eyes met.
Something passed between them. A flicker of understanding.
The creature hesitated. Its body trembled.
And then—it backed away.
It didn't flee. It simply… turned. Limped past the monolith. Vanished into the trees like mist.
The silence left behind was deafening.
Minutes Later – Aftermath
Rell groaned, half-buried in crushed ferns, ribs likely broken. Vey and Kel helped pull him free, while Marra and Garran checked the perimeter.
Duncan sat at the base of the monolith, sweat-soaked and wide-eyed.
"What the hell was that thing?" Vey muttered, inspecting her cracked bow.
"No beast I've ever seen," Marra answered. "Its eyes… they were too smart."
Duncan looked down at his bloodied hands.
That hum—he could still feel it. Not from the monolith, but within himself.
He could still feel the creature's gaze inside his skull. Not hostile. Not entirely.
More like... recognition.
Rell coughed. "Why didn't it finish us?"
No one had an answer.
Duncan stood slowly. His limbs ached. His ribs throbbed. But his voice was steady.
"Because it knew me."
The others turned to stare at him.
Kel frowned. "Knew you? From where?"
Duncan shook his head. "I don't know. But when it looked at me… it didn't see prey."
It had seen something else.
Nightfall – Around the Fire
The fire crackled low. No one spoke much.
Rell lay bandaged, his breaths shallow but even. Garran took first watch, leaning silently against a tree, axe across his lap.
Duncan sat staring into the flames, Rask's journal open beside him. The words blurred, but one line stood out:
"There are beasts that remember the old blood. Not tame. Not summoned. Just… waiting."
He thought of his father.
Of the stories whispered when they thought he wasn't listening. His grandfather who disappeared in the wilds. His father who returned from war half-mad, speaking of beasts that "bowed without leashes."
His mother used to hush him. "Don't talk about that. The Dominion watches."
Maybe this was what they feared.
He felt the pulse again—just under his skin.
He wasn't a beast tamer. He didn't summon. He didn't command.
But something in him had made that creature hesitate.
And in the Dominion, that was a threat.
He closed the journal, then looked up as Garran spoke for the first time since they met.
"You carry something ancient, Lieutenant."
Duncan blinked. "What?"
"That creature. It smelled it on you."
"You think I'm like it?"
"No," Garran said. "I think you're older."
And with that, the giant man returned to his watch, leaving Duncan with questions that only the forest could answer.