The dawn was pale and cold, a thin line of silver across the horizon. The village slept uneasily, though faint wisps of mist rose from the marsh, curling like ghostly fingers around the huts and paths. Liora stood at the edge of the shrine, the Beast towering beside her, every muscle coiled, every sense alert. The bond pulsed between them, steady, insistent—but the memory of the Sleeper's pressure from the night before lingered like a shadow on her mind.
Corren patrolled the outer perimeter with a group of villagers who had agreed to help, armed with spears and torches. Maren hovered near the altar, hands moving in intricate patterns, murmuring chants meant to reinforce the Circle.
Liora inhaled sharply. "It's coming," she said, voice low but firm. The mist shivered. Far beyond the marsh, dark shapes stirred, rising above the reeds. The fragments were returning—more numerous, more coordinated. But behind them moved the Sleeper itself, its colossal shadow stretching across the marsh, frost and darkness twisting around its limbs.
The Beast's rumble echoed in her mind: Brace yourself. They are testing. Do not falter.
The first wave hit suddenly. Fragments surged forward like a living tide, writhing and screaming, moving with precision. Liora raised her hands, energy radiating from her palms into the Circle. Light lanced outward, striking the shadows, forcing them back, but the fragments pressed harder.
The bond thrummed violently, feeding her strength, pulling her into the rhythm of the Beast. Every heartbeat, every pulse of breath, every movement was shared—human and creature united. The Circle flared, golden and blinding, but the fragments adapted, splitting into smaller shapes, circling around, probing for weaknesses.
Corren shouted orders, guiding villagers to safety, but one faltered. A fragment twisted into a familiar form—a man she recognized from the village, eyes hollow and frozen, claws extended. Panic surged.
"Corren!" she cried.
The Beast reacted instantly, leaping forward with a roar, antlers cutting through shadow. The fragment shattered into mist, the illusion dissolving, but the warning was clear. The Sleeper was probing, using fear and confusion as weapons.
The second strike came from the water. The marsh itself boiled and churned as massive waves rose, pushing reeds and mud into the Circle. Liora's knees sank, struggling to keep her balance, but she pressed forward, letting the bond flow through her. Energy coursed through her veins, out into the Circle, fusing with the Beast's essence. Together, they radiated light and warmth, holding back the tide.
Maren's voice rose in a chant, each word pulling strength from the stones and the air, reinforcing the Circle's defenses. But even with her help, the pressure was immense. The Sleeper was learning, adapting. Every wave of fragments was faster, more coordinated, more relentless.
Liora gritted her teeth, sweat running down her brow. She felt the strain of the bond deep in her chest, a pulse of exhaustion that was both human and Beast. Do not falter, it whispered. We are one.
From the far edge of the marsh, a shadow detached itself from the main form of the Sleeper. It moved with terrifying speed, a jagged spike of darkness heading directly toward the shrine. Liora's heart hammered. She knew instinctively what it was—an advanced fragment, a concentrated strike aimed at breaking the Circle in a single blow.
The Beast lunged, antlers lowered, claws striking the ground to dig in. Liora extended her hands, pouring every ounce of her energy into the Circle. Light surged, colliding with the fragment. A deafening screech filled the marsh as shadow and light clashed. Liora felt the force of it knock her backward, mud and water soaking her clothes, but the fragment resisted, twisting and reforming.
Through the bond, the Beast's presence surged, amplifying her strength, stabilizing the Circle. She could feel its thoughts, calm and focused: Do not give ground. Hold steady. We are the wall.
She nodded, breathing heavily. "We are steady," she whispered. The bond pulsed in response, a living rhythm of light and power.
The Sleeper struck again, this time with a coordinated wave from multiple directions. Shadows rose from the water, crawled through the reeds, slashed through the mist, all aimed at the Circle. Liora felt the bond strain, every ounce of energy being drawn into the defense. Her vision blurred, the edges of the Circle flickering with instability.
Suddenly, she felt a sharp tug—fear. One of the fragments had breached the outer edge, clawing toward the villagers. Corren dove in, spear striking true, but he was thrown backward, sliding across mud and frost. A scream rang out—a villager had been caught.
Liora's heart clenched. "No!" she cried. She reached deeper into the bond, channeling both her fear and her determination. Energy exploded from her palms, striking the fragment with concentrated force. The shadow shattered into mist, dissipating into the cold night air.
The Beast roared, a sound that reverberated across the marsh, shaking the remaining fragments. For a moment, the tide slowed, hesitation spreading through the shadows.
But the Sleeper was patient. Its voice was not heard—it was felt, deep in the bones, like the rumble of the earth itself. The fragments reformed, stronger, faster, smarter. It had learned from the first strike.
Liora's chest burned. Sweat and mud clung to her skin, her muscles screamed in protest, but the bond held her upright. She could feel the Beast's strength flowing through her, a surge of wild power she had never imagined. Together, they were not just defending the Circle—they were channeling it, becoming its living force.
Maren's chant reached a crescendo, the lines of light on the stones flaring like molten gold. The fragments shrieked, twisting and convulsing, but they could not break through. The bond had stabilized, stronger than before, a living barrier between the village and the Sleeper's wrath.
Finally, the assault paused. The fragments retreated slightly, as if reconsidering their approach. The Sleeper itself remained at the far edge of the marsh, colossal and unreadable. Its frost-veined limbs rippled with intent, a slow, deliberate assessment. It had tested the Circle—and the bond—and found it formidable.
Liora sank to her knees, chest heaving, mud soaking her hair. The Beast crouched beside her, nuzzling her shoulder, a quiet presence of reassurance and triumph. Through the bond, she could feel its pride, its relief, and its unspoken warning: This was only the first strike. There will be more.
Maren approached, eyes wide but steady. "You've held the first attack," she said softly. "But the Sleeper has only begun to awaken. It will return, stronger. We must prepare—strategize. Every wave, every fragment, every assault will be more dangerous."
Liora nodded, letting her hands rest on the Circle's stones. Golden light pulsed faintly beneath her fingertips, the bond stabilizing, alive and steady. She could feel the rhythm of the Beast's heartbeat through her own, the pulse of the Circle beneath them, and the hum of the marsh. They had survived the first strike—but the war was just beginning.
The Sleeper waited. And when it struck again, the bond would be tested in ways neither human nor Beast had yet imagined.