The forest erupted.
The hunters had finally cornered them.
Ahayue staggered to a halt, chest heaving, one hand clutched tight around Alusya's wrist as the girl stumbled alongside her. Their breaths came ragged, white mist in the cold dawn air. For hours they had fled, deeper and deeper, their feet tearing through thickets, their skin lacerated by brambles. And still the sound of horns had haunted them—low, guttural notes rolling like thunder through the valley.
Now, as the first shafts of sunlight spilled between the jagged trees, the hunters stepped into view.
A dozen at first. Then two dozen. And behind them, shadows moved—more runners, more warriors, faces painted in mud and ash, each one gleaming with the zeal of men chasing prey not merely for coin, but for honor.
"Found you."
The leader's voice was rough, triumphant. He wore the wolfskin mantle Ahayue had glimpsed before in the villages. A chieftain's son, perhaps. Or worse, a priest-hunter blessed by their god. His spear glittered with obsidian teeth lashed to its shaft, cruelly serrated.
Ahayue's fingers flexed around the hilt of her blade. Her body screamed at her—lungs raw, legs trembling, her shoulder half-numb from the last clash. But her heart burned. She could not show weakness now.
Beside her, Alusya's pupils dilated unnaturally. Her lips moved soundlessly, a whisper of something not entirely her own. The god in her blood stirred, tasting the tension, aching for release.
"Stay behind me," Ahayue murmured.
But Alusya did not answer.
The hunters surged forward.
The first clash was thunder and blood.
Ahayue leapt into the fray with a roar that tore from her throat raw and unyielding. Her blade slashed a cruel arc, splitting through the wooden shaft of the nearest spear and sending shards flying. She spun, low, ducking under the swing of a club, then drove her knee into a man's stomach and cut his throat clean as he doubled.
For one instant, the ring broke. She felt the air, the chance—
But more pressed in.
The wolfskin leader barked an order, and hunters spread, forming a tightening crescent. Nets were drawn, bolas spun overhead. They didn't intend merely to kill—they meant to bind, to drag them alive.
Ahayue snarled. Not while I breathe.
She lunged forward, cutting down another, but even as she moved, she sensed it—that hum in the air, the unnatural pressure thickening. She turned—
And saw Alusya.
The girl's hands were outstretched. Her eyes shone with molten gold, her lips curling back in something between a snarl and a sob. A guttural sound poured from her throat—not hers, not fully human.
Then the world broke.
Hunters reeled back as heat seared the clearing. A wave of invisible force pulsed outward, bending trees, splintering bark. Several men screamed as their flesh blistered, their weapons burning hot in their hands.
One man collapsed outright, his chest caved in by the sheer pressure. Another's hair caught fire, his cries ragged as he rolled desperately in the leaves.
"Gods—!"
"Witch!"
"Hold her—!"
But who dared? Even the wolfskin leader faltered, shielding his face with his forearm as he tried to rally his men.
Ahayue flinched, shielding her face from the blast. Her ears rang, her eyes burned. And yet—she forced herself forward, forced herself toward Alusya.
The girl's small frame shook violently, every muscle taut, as though she were both the vessel and the battlefield. The god inside her had taken the reins, tearing through human limits, reveling in destruction.
"Alusya!" Ahayue's voice cracked. "Enough!"
But the god did not answer.
Instead, the forest answered with screams.
The hunters broke ranks. Some fled outright, stumbling into the brush, dropping their spears as they went. Others tried to circle, desperate to strike her down, only to be caught by invisible claws of heat that shredded flesh and snapped bone.
Blood steamed on the forest floor.
Ahayue forced her way to Alusya, wrapping her arms around the girl from behind, anchoring her even as her skin burned from the heat.
"You'll kill yourself," she gasped into the girl's ear. "You'll burn yourself away."
For a heartbeat, she thought she had failed. The god's light swelled, pulsing so bright it painted the world white.
Then, faintly, a sob. A child's sob.
And the light faltered.
Alusya's body went limp in her arms.
Ahayue staggered, half-carrying her, half-dragging her, as the clearing smoldered with ruin. The surviving hunters stared in horror, too shaken to press closer. The wolfskin leader's face twisted with both rage and fear, his knuckles white around his spear.
But he did not move.
Not yet.
The clearing was deathly still for a heartbeat, broken only by the crackle of burning undergrowth and the ragged sobbing of wounded men. Smoke curled through the trees, stinging the eyes. Blood dripped from shattered spears and stained the moss beneath.
Then came the voice.
"Cowards!"
The wolfskin leader strode forward, fury burning in his eyes, his chest heaving like a beast cornered yet unbroken. His voice cut through the fear clinging to his hunters, whipping them into shape again. "Is this how you face prey? Is this how you honor your ancestors? A god's vessel, yes—but look!"
He thrust his spear toward Alusya, limp in Ahayue's arms. "She bleeds. She falters. The god is not endless. Take her, and we carve our names into the songs of the people!"
A murmur of reluctant agreement spread through the remaining hunters. Men who had been ready to flee now shifted their grips on weapons, their fear hardening into resolve.
Ahayue's jaw clenched. Damn him. He knows how to hold them together.
She adjusted her stance, blade raised, Alusya's weight dragging at her left side. The girl was breathing—shallow, uneven. The divine glow flickered faintly behind her eyelids like embers threatening to flare again.
"I won't let you touch her."
The words came low, steady, more a vow than a threat.
The wolfskin leader sneered. "You won't live to stop me."
And he charged.
Steel met stone-toothed spear with a shattering clang. The wolfskin leader pressed forward, his sheer strength nearly buckling Ahayue's knees. She twisted, deflecting the thrust just shy of her ribs, then lashed out with a low kick.
He caught it with his shin and laughed. "Weak. You run too long, woman. You bleed already."
Ahayue spat blood to the side and struck again.
Their duel became a storm in the clearing—spear darting like a serpent's tongue, blade flashing in desperate arcs. Each clash rattled the teeth in Ahayue's skull, each movement dragged by Alusya's weight clutched tight to her body.
Around them, the hunters formed a ragged ring. Some shouted encouragement to their leader. Others tightened their grip on nets, ready to pounce the moment she stumbled.
The god-child whimpered faintly, her voice muffled against Ahayue's chest. "Ahayue…"
That voice lit something in her.
With a surge of fury, Ahayue forced her body to move faster, sharper. She ducked under a spear thrust, slammed her shoulder into the leader's chest, then slashed upward. Her blade scored a line across his cheek, spraying blood.
The wolfskin leader staggered back, eyes wide, then laughed again, crimson dripping down his jaw. "Better! That's better! But you'll die all the same!"
Alusya stirred.
Her head lolled, and her lips parted as though whispering to the unseen. A heat shimmered faintly along her skin, faint pulses of light beating in rhythm with her erratic breath.
One of the hunters saw it and panicked. "She's waking again—strike now before the god takes her!"
The words rippled through the ring. Men surged forward in sudden desperation, unable to wait for their leader's duel to play out.
Ahayue cursed. She spun, slashing wildly, forcing two back, but a net flew from the left. She twisted just in time, the weighted ropes grazing her shoulder instead of binding both her and Alusya.
"Hold her down!" someone bellowed.
They came in a wave. Clubs, spears, knives—all raised high.
Ahayue roared, planting her feet, swinging her blade in a vicious arc. A man's wrist split open, his spear clattering away. Another cried out as steel carved across his thigh.
But there were too many.
Hands closed on her arm, trying to wrench her blade free. Another slammed against her back, nearly toppling her with Alusya's weight.
For an instant, Ahayue thought it was over.
Then light flared.
Alusya's eyes snapped open.
Golden fire burst outward, not in a sweeping wave like before, but in jagged shards—like a mirror shattering in every direction. The men clutching Ahayue were thrown back, skin blistering, mouths open in silent screams as light devoured their breath.
The ring broke.
Ahayue gasped as the searing power licked at her skin, but she held tight, clutching Alusya even as the girl's body convulsed with godfire.
Hunters stumbled back in terror, some falling to their knees, others crawling away.
The wolfskin leader alone stood his ground. His eyes gleamed with something close to madness as the golden light painted his features in shadow and flame.
"So it is true," he whispered, awe warring with fury. "The god walks again in flesh."
Then louder, to his men: "Do you see? This is why we hunt! To bind her! To master the god before she burns us all!"
But no one moved. Not yet. The terror was too fresh.
Ahayue seized the chance.
She hauled Alusya up against her, blade flashing, and backed toward the trees. Her every muscle screamed, her blood slick on her arm, but she forced herself on.
The wolfskin leader snarled and started forward again—
And Ahayue's eyes locked with his.
It was not hatred she gave him, nor fear. It was something colder: the promise that if he stepped closer, she would cut him down or die trying.
The moment stretched taut as bowstring.
Then Ahayue turned and fled into the smoke.
The forest swallowed them in smoke and shadow. Branches clawed at Ahayue's arms, tearing her skin raw, roots threatened to trip her with every stride, yet she pressed on. Alusya lay limp in her grip, golden fire still flickering faintly across her small body like dying lightning.
Each breath burned her lungs. Her blade was heavy now, slick with blood and sweat. The world narrowed to the crunch of leaves beneath her boots and the pounding in her ears.
But behind her came the sound she dreaded most—drums of pursuit.
The wolfskin leader had not broken.
"After them!" His roar shook the trees, unyielding even in the wake of divine terror. "Do not let them vanish! The god-child is ours!"
His men—wounded, shaken, but bound by his will—stumbled back to their feet. Fear still etched their faces, but the leader's presence was a chain around their necks, pulling them forward.
One hunter limped heavily, dragging his leg. Another clutched a bleeding arm. Yet they ran. They ran because he ran, because his fury was stronger than their terror.
And so the hunt began anew.
Ahayue's heart hammered. She risked a glance over her shoulder—shadows weaving between the trunks, glints of stone-tipped spears catching pale moonlight. Too close.
She hissed through clenched teeth. "Damn you stubborn bastards…"
Her path split: left toward a slope descending into deeper forest, thick with undergrowth; right, a ridge strewn with jagged rocks.
The left meant cover but slower footing. The right meant exposure but speed.
She had no time to debate. With Alusya's weight dragging her, she veered right.
The ridge rose like the back of some ancient beast, uneven stone ridges gleaming faintly in the firelight from burning trees below. Her boots slipped on loose gravel, sending sparks of pain through her knees, but she forced herself up, dragging both blade and burden higher.
The hunters followed, their curses echoing. One hurled a spear that clattered harmlessly against the stone. Another slipped and tumbled, a sharp scream swallowed by the forest.
Still they came.
The wolfskin leader vaulted from rock to rock with predatory grace, his eyes locked on her like a hawk's.
Alusya stirred weakly in Ahayue's arms. Her voice, fragile as a child's, brushed the night.
"They… they won't stop…"
"I know," Ahayue rasped, tightening her hold.
"I'm… slowing you down…"
"Quiet." She cut the thought short, voice harder than she felt. "You're alive. That's all that matters. I'll get you through this."
Alusya's lashes trembled. She wanted to believe. She wanted to trust. So she let herself sink against Ahayue's shoulder again.
But deep inside her, beneath the child's fear, something stirred. The whisper of the forgotten god curled around her fading consciousness, a murmur of promise and hunger.
They will not stop. But you can make them kneel. Call, and I will answer. Call, and I will burn them to ash.
Alusya whimpered, shaking her head weakly, refusing to give in again.
A cry rang out.
One of the hunters had gained ground, leaping up the rocks with a short spear raised. He lunged at Ahayue's back.
Her instincts screamed.
She whirled, steel flashing, and split his throat open in a single desperate swing. The man gurgled, his body collapsing down the rocks with a sickening crack.
But the cost was time.
The wolfskin leader closed the distance, spear leveled like a predator's fang.
Their weapons clashed once more. The force jarred through Ahayue's arms, nearly ripping the blade from her grasp.
"You run well," the leader sneered, his face a mask of blood and sweat. "But the forest belongs to hunters, not prey."
Ahayue spat to the side, forcing her trembling arms to hold steady. "Then you should've killed me when you had the chance."
They locked eyes. For a heartbeat, silence. The forest seemed to hold its breath.
Then the leader barked, and three more hunters surged around him, circling Ahayue like wolves around a stag.
The clash became chaos.
She fought like a cornered beast, her blade carving wild arcs, every strike buying a heartbeat more. One spear skimmed her ribs, tearing cloth and flesh. A club smashed against her forearm, numbing her grip.
Alusya cried out as the jolt shook her body, the faint golden glow around her flaring in answer. The hunters staggered back in terror as the light licked at them.
"Not again—!" one of them gasped, stumbling away.
But the wolfskin leader shouted over their fear. "She's fading! Look—her light falters! She cannot burn forever!"
His words steadied them, dragging them back into the fight.
Ahayue felt her strength bleeding out, her vision swimming. She couldn't hold this forever. She knew it. And worse, so did they.
Alusya's glow dimmed and brightened, a fragile heartbeat away from another eruption. But each time it threatened to surge, Alusya whimpered and held it back. She remembered the screams. She remembered the burning faces. She was terrified of losing herself again.
The god whispered in her ear. Do not fear me, child. Fear them. Let me end them for you.
Tears stung Alusya's eyes. She clutched Ahayue's torn shirt with tiny fingers, caught between horror and survival.
The ridge narrowed ahead, a sheer drop yawning into the darkness beyond. One wrong step, and they would tumble into the abyss.
Ahayue's breath came ragged. The hunters pressed closer, relentless, their leader's shadow falling long across the stones.
Every option was closing.
Every heartbeat brought the end nearer.
And still, she refused to fall.
The ridge narrowed into a cruel blade of stone, cutting across the abyss. Below, the forest lay in shadow, endless and black, a sea of branches swaying in the wind.
Ahayue staggered forward, dragging Alusya, his chest heaving, his arms trembling with fatigue. His blade felt like lead, his vision blurred with sweat and blood. Yet still he lifted it. Still he barred the path between her and death.
The hunters circled tighter, emboldened by his faltering stance. Spears thrust from every side. Clubs swung low.
Each strike he parried felt like splitting mountains. Each breath burned like swallowing fire.
The wolfskin leader pressed forward, relentless. His spear moved like lightning, forcing Ahayue into retreat after retreat, every step backward driving him closer to the cliff's edge.
"You're done," the leader snarled, teeth bared. "A cripple dressed in borrowed strength. You think the god-child makes you untouchable? You are nothing without her light."
Ahayue spat blood and swung wildly, forcing the man back for a heartbeat. His arms shook violently from the strain.
"I… don't need to be untouchable," he rasped, lips curling into a bloodied grin. "I just need to be enough… to keep her breathing."
A hunter darted in from the side, stabbing. The blade pierced his thigh, white-hot pain exploding through him.
He screamed but did not fall. Instead, he twisted, catching the hunter's throat on his blade and tearing it open in a savage spray.
Another spear sliced across his ribs. A club smashed against his shoulder. His body was unraveling, every nerve aflame, yet still he moved. Still he killed.
The ridge grew slick with blood, hunters slipping on their comrades' corpses. The air reeked of iron and smoke.
But there were too many. Always too many.
Alusya sobbed against his chest, golden light flaring weakly with each of his cries. She wanted to stop it, wanted to turn away, but her tears would not blind her to what she saw: Ahayue breaking himself to shield her, bleeding for her, dying for her.
"Stop… please stop…" she begged.
Ahayue's smile was faint, broken. "Don't cry, Alusya… Don't let them… take that from you."
The wolfskin leader lunged. His spear drove deep into Ahayue's chest, ripping through muscle and bone.
Ahayue gasped, the world tilting. His blade slipped from his numb fingers, clattering against the stone.
Blood bubbled in his mouth. His knees buckled. His body collapsed forward, still shielding Alusya with the last motion of his fading strength.
The world slowed. The hunters' jeers dulled into a muffled hum. Alusya's cries echoed hollow in his ears.
Darkness crept from the edges of his vision.
So this is it…?
The leader ripped his spear free, shoving Ahayue's body aside.
"Now the god-child is mine," he growled, reaching toward Alusya.
But Alusya was no longer sobbing.
Her small hands shook. Her eyes burned with a molten gold that was not her own.
The forgotten god's voice surged through her like thunder.
Child, cry no more. Burn them. Burn them all.
Her scream tore through the ridge. Golden fire exploded outward, engulfing the hunters. Flesh burned. Screams split the night. The forest itself seemed to recoil from the light.
Ahayue's last sight was a world drowned in fire.
Then—only darkness.