Chapter Six – The Fracture of Faith
The morning came heavy and gray. Clouds pressed low over the forest, turning the light into a dim haze that made the camp seem half-asleep. Fires sputtered as servants stoked them back to life, thin smoke coiling through the cold air.
Auron sat near the edge of the encampment. The others were stirring, yawning, trading lazy jokes but the silence between his breaths felt sharp as a blade.
He had buried the coin again last night, marking the soil with a broken twig to remember the spot. Yet the image of that beast-born sigil would not leave his mind.
Black metal glinting in moonlight, the scent of iron and fur, the faint impression of clawed fingers on the leather wrap it all clung to him like a fever dream.
The forest whispered its omens, and Auron listened.
Across the camp, Lucian was laughing with the cook over bread, bright and untroubled. That sound nearly made Auron forget the rot festering beneath this calm.
Almost.
He rose, sheathed his sword, and crossed the clearing.
Lucian turned at once, smiling as though dawn itself had brought good news."Auron! Come on, you have to try this it's the last of the honey bread."
Auron's voice came even, quiet. "Later. We need to talk."
Lucian blinked. The smile faltered. "About what?"
Auron's eyes flicked toward the trees. "Not here."
He led Lucian beyond the fires, past the wagons and resting horses, until the forest swallowed them whole. The noise of the camp dulled to a murmur.
Auron crouched beside a gnarled root and began to dig. Lucian tilted his head, confused. When metal scraped stone, Auron lifted the oil-wrapped bundle and placed it between them.
Lucian frowned. "What is that?"
Auron unwrapped it, revealing the black coin. Even in the gray light, it gleamed with an oily sheen. The carved wolf's head seemed to breathe in shadow, its eyes narrow and alive.
Lucian stepped back. "That's not from Ironheart minting."
"No," Auron said. "It isn't. It belongs to the Beast-born."
Lucian's face drained of color. "Beast-born currency? That's outlawed! Where did you find it?"
"Buried beneath the oak by the river. Two of your servants left it there last night. They called it payment for a delivery. The same word I heard Asher use with men who hid their faces."
Lucian shook his head. "That cannot be true. Asher has been with my family since before I was born. He's fought for us. Bled for us."
Auron laid out the parchment next to the coin. Trade cipher, inked with shorthand he knew too well. "One shipment. Payment secured. That payment was this coin."
Lucian stared, struggling to form words. "You must be mistaken. Asher would never—"
"Lucian," Auron said, voice low but iron steady. "You told me your father's house is dying. Desperate men do desperate things. When gold disappears, loyalty follows."
Lucian's hands trembled. His voice rose in anger more than conviction. "You think Asher would sell me? Are you even hearing yourself? Maybe this is from the forest, whatever broke you there—"
Auron's expression didn't change. His silence was heavier than argument.
"I do not think," he said at last. "I know."
Lucian's breath caught. "You're lying."
"If I wanted to lie, I wouldn't bring proof."
Lucian turned away, pacing. "No. You are mistaken. He trained me himself. He said he believed in me. He—" He broke off, jaw clenched. "You must be wrong."
"Look at the coin again," Auron said. "Does it look forged? Can you feel the mana in it? That pulse isn't human."
Lucian's denial faltered. He could feel it now the faint, cold thrum of something alive and wrong.
Finally, his voice dropped to a whisper. "If this is true… I need to hear it from him."
Auron's hand shot out, gripping his arm. "Not yet. We don't know who else is involved. The guards, the servants any of them could be listening. You act as though you know nothing."
Lucian stared down at Auron's hand, then up into his eyes. "You expect me to stand by while he plans whatever this is?"
"Yes," Auron said. "Because if you don't, you die before I can stop it."
Lucian's jaw tightened. "You sound like my father's advisers. Always watching. Always waiting."
"Because waiting is how you survive."
For a long moment, neither moved. Then Lucian stepped back, voice quiet. "I will be careful. But I need to know."
Auron saw it the stubborn defiance he once saw in Godfrey's eyes. He couldn't stop it, only shape it.
"Then we do it my way," he said finally. "Before you go to him, I'll find the rest of his web."
Lucian nodded, uncertain but resolute.
The morning dragged on under strained silence.
Auron walked the perimeter, tightening ropes, mending wheels, watching. The camp looked normal; too normal. But the smallest cracks gave truth away. A glance held too long. A hand hovering near a sword hilt. A conversation that stopped when he passed.
He brushed against a guard's belt and felt a faint hum of mana same frequency as the coin.
Inside Asher's tent came muffled voices. One was Asher's, calm and clipped. The other, low and unfamiliar.
Auron moved away, circling toward the servants' quarters. Two servants whispered near the supply wagons. Their eyes widened when they saw him.
He smiled faintly. "The stew smells burnt," he said. "Better check before the captain finds out."
They scrambled off. Auron pried the crate they'd guarded. Beneath layers of dried meat, a small pouch of crimson dust shimmered faintly. Beast-born trade powder used for tracking by scent and mana.
He sealed the crate again and exhaled slowly. Everything was aligning.
By dusk, he had mapped every thread of betrayal. Asher had allies two guards, three servants, and an unseen partner across the river. The trade would happen within this week
He had proof. But not time.
Lucian would not stay silent much longer.
When evening settled, the camp glowed orange with firelight. The smell of roasted meat mingled with damp wood. Auron sat alone, his sword beside him. The wolf's bracelet pulsed faintly against his wrist slow, deliberate, alive.
Lucian appeared out of the dark, face drawn and pale. "I have to talk to him."
"Not yet," Auron warned.
"If I wait, he'll act first. You said it yourself."
Auron stood. "You're walking into a trap."
"Then I'll walk through it with my eyes open."
The defiance burned clean and bright. Auron almost admired it and feared it.
He sighed. "Then take this." From his pocket, he drew a talisman carved from shadow lynx bone. "If mana gathers near you, it will pulse. When it does run."
Lucian took it with a trembling hand. "Thank you."
He turned and strode toward Asher's tent. Auron followed at a distance, keeping to shadow.
Most guards were drunk by now, fires crackling with laughter. The hum of insects filled the dark.
Asher stood before his tent, speaking to a soldier. When Lucian approached, the knight's smile sharpened polite, practiced.
"My lord," Asher greeted. "You should be resting. Tomorrow's road will be long."
Lucian's voice wavered. "I wanted to speak privately."
Asher nodded, dismissing the guard. "Of course."
They stepped inside. Auron moved closer, ear to the canvas.
Lucian's voice came first steady, barely contained. "What are you planning with the Beast-born?"
Silence. Then a low laugh. "Who told you that?"
"I found the coin," Lucian said. "I know about the shipment. Tell me it's not true."
The quiet stretched, then broke. Asher's tone changed no longer courteous, but cold steel. "You should not have gone digging where you don't belong, my lord."
Auron's grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles burned.
Inside, Lucian's voice trembled. "You're betraying House Arvel. Betraying me."
"I am saving what's left," Asher said. "Your father has doomed us bled our coffers for empty mines, traded honor for pity. The Beast-born offer strength. I took it. I will not let the House rot under weak men."
"So you sell me?"
"Not sell," Asher murmured. "Trade. One life for survival. I gave everything for the arvel name- my youth, my blood, my reputation. I will not let it die with your father, You were simply the price fate demanded."
Lucian's voice broke. "You disgust me."
Armor shifted. "You should not have come here alone."
Auron drew his blade. The metal sang.
Lucian stumbled backward through the flap, eyes wide, terror and disbelief locked in his face.
Asher followed, sword drawn, eyes gleaming under the starlight, no longer knight, no longer man, only zeal and ruin.
"You should have stayed ignorant," he said.
Lucian froze.
The blade moved.
The night exploded.
Auron was already in motion, power roaring beneath his skin, the Wolf clawing to be free. His hand burned around the hilt, every heartbeat screaming to unleash.
Steel met steel in a flash of silver.
Somewhere beyond the clash, Lucian's mind flickered with one final thought
the man I trusted most just tried to kill me.
Then the forest swallowed sound, and everything dissolved into the dark.
End of Chapter Six – The Fracture of Faith