The wind hit them like a wall the moment they crossed into the storm's domain, howling around them with a ferocity that nearly knocked Kael off his feet. He gritted his teeth and pressed forward, Rynn close behind him. The energy in the air was tangible—crackling against their skin, whispering through the folds of their cloaks like a thousand ghostly voices.
The forest here was different. Where before the trees had merely looked twisted, here they were utterly corrupted. Bark peeled away in strips, revealing pulsing veins of some unnatural growth underneath. The roots had buckled the ground into jagged hills and deep, shadowy gullies. Kael kept one hand on Veyrion and the other outstretched, feeling for any hint of magic in the storm's touch.
"There's something wrong with the ground," Rynn said, her voice raised to be heard over the wind.
Kael nodded grimly. "It's like the land itself is sick."
A flash of movement caught his eye. He stiffened, signaling for Rynn to stop. She froze, her eyes scanning the darkness beyond the next cluster of trees. Shapes moved there—silhouettes shifting and weaving through the mist like predators. Kael's heart pounded in his ears.
Then a shape broke free from the mist—a creature, misshapen and monstrous, its body a patchwork of fur, scales, and twisted muscle. It wasn't a warg, though Kael could see the distant resemblance. This thing was worse. Its eyes glowed with a sickly yellow light, and when it opened its mouth, rows of jagged teeth gleamed.
Rynn drew her sword, the blade singing as it left the scabbard. "We can't outrun it," she said grimly.
Kael braced himself. "Then we fight."
The creature lunged, impossibly fast for its size. Kael ducked under its first swipe, feeling the wind of its claws graze past him. He struck low, aiming for its exposed belly. Veyrion bit deep, but the creature barely faltered, swinging around to slam him with a blow that sent him staggering back.
Rynn was already moving, her blade flashing in a precise arc that severed the creature's hamstring. It let out a bone-shaking roar and turned its fury on her. Kael recovered quickly, lunging forward with a cry and driving Veyrion straight through the creature's ribcage.
The beast convulsed once, twice, then collapsed, black blood steaming where it touched the earth.
Kael yanked his sword free and backed away, breathing heavily. The body twitched and then lay still.
"What was that?" Rynn gasped, wiping a smear of blood from her face.
Kael shook his head. "I don't know. But if there's one, there are more."
As if in answer, distant howls rose above the storm, echoing through the corrupted forest.
Kael and Rynn shared a grim look. Without another word, they pressed on.
The deeper they moved into the storm, the more unnatural everything became. The trees thinned until they were moving across open ground—an expanse of broken earth split by deep chasms that glowed faintly with eerie blue light. The storm overhead churned violently, lightning flashing so close that it made Kael's skin prickle.
In the distance, something loomed—a structure, half-hidden by mist and shadow. It wasn't natural. Sharp angles and spires clawed at the sky, and the land around it seemed to warp and twist unnaturally.
"That's our destination," Kael said, his voice low.
Rynn hesitated, staring at the thing. "It looks like it's… alive."
Kael understood what she meant. The structure pulsed faintly, almost like it was breathing.
A deep, resonant thrum vibrated through the ground under their feet, making their bones ache. Kael could feel something calling from within the structure, something ancient and powerful. The Hunger.
They started toward it, picking their way carefully across the unstable ground. As they approached, the mist thickened, and Kael's vision blurred at the edges. He could see shapes moving within the mist—ghostly figures, their forms indistinct and shifting.
"Don't listen to them," Rynn warned, her voice strained. "They're not real."
Kael forced himself to focus, though the whispers grew louder in his ears. They spoke of failure, of despair, of futility. He gritted his teeth and kept walking.
Finally, they reached the base of the structure. Up close, Kael could see that it wasn't made of stone or wood but something else—something organic and pulsing. Veins of dark material webbed across its surface, carrying glowing blue fluid through its form.
A gateway yawned open before them, a gaping maw that led into darkness.
Kael hesitated only for a moment, then stepped inside. Rynn followed without question.
The air within was even heavier, thick with the scent of decay and ozone. Strange symbols lined the walls, shifting and twisting when Kael tried to focus on them. The floor was slick and uneven, forcing them to move carefully.
Deeper and deeper they went, until the passage opened into a vast chamber.
At its center was a massive crystalline structure, suspended in the air by tendrils of the same dark material that made up the walls. Within the crystal, something moved—something vast and terrible, slumbering.
The Hunger.
Kael stared, transfixed. He could feel it now, a yawning void that clawed at his mind, promising power and destruction in equal measure.
"We can't fight that," Rynn whispered, horror in her voice. "It's... it's too big."
Kael shook his head slowly. "We don't have to fight it. Not yet."
He stepped closer, drawn by an unseen force. The crystal pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
There were markings on the floor—circles and runes that looked older than anything Kael had ever seen. He recognized some of them from the old books: seals, meant to contain ancient evils.
Only these seals were broken, cracked and bleeding energy.
Kael's stomach twisted. "Someone... something... broke the seals."
Rynn swore under her breath. "We're too late."
"No," Kael said. "Maybe not."
He knelt, studying the runes. His blood sang in his veins—the same strange energy he had felt since surviving the storm. His hand trembled as he reached out toward the broken sigils.
As his fingers brushed the markings, a surge of power jolted through him. He cried out but didn't pull away. Instead, he focused, forcing his will into the broken seals, trying to repair them, to push the Hunger back into its slumber.
The storm inside him answered.
Lightning arced from his fingertips, stitching across the cracks in the runes. The entire structure shuddered, and the creature within the crystal stirred, its vast body coiling like a serpent in its sleep.
Kael gritted his teeth and poured more of himself into the seals. Sweat poured down his face. His vision dimmed.
Rynn dropped to her knees beside him, placing her hands over his. Together, their combined will shone against the dark.
The tendrils anchoring the crystal to the ceiling writhed and snapped one by one. The Hunger let out a low, deafening roar—a sound that shook the foundations of the world.
But the seals held.
Bit by bit, the runes mended, their light growing stronger. The crystal's glow dimmed, and the creature within grew still.
Finally, with a blinding flash, the last of the tendrils snapped. The structure cracked and crumbled around them.
Kael grabbed Rynn's hand, and together they fled as the ground shook violently. They stumbled out of the collapsing ruin just as it caved in behind them, burying the Hunger once more beneath tons of earth and shattered stone.
They collapsed a short distance away, gasping for breath.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Rynn broke the silence. "Did we do it? Did we stop it?"
Kael stared back at the ruins, his heart still hammering in his chest. He could still feel the Hunger stirring far below, but its influence was weaker, contained—for now.
"We bought time," he said grimly. "But it's not over."
Rynn nodded, understanding.
The storm overhead began to break apart, the clouds scattering, revealing patches of clear sky for the first time in days.
Kael looked at his hands—at the lingering crackle of energy dancing across his skin. Whatever had happened inside that structure had changed him even more. The storm wasn't just inside him now. It was part of him.
"We need to tell the others," Rynn said. "Prepare them. The Hunger isn't gone. It's just... sleeping."
Kael pushed himself to his feet, helping Rynn up. Together, they turned back toward the west—toward Virestead.
The journey home would be long, and dangerous. The creatures born of the Hunger would not disappear so easily, and others—those who had broken the seals in the first place—would surely come looking.
But Kael no longer felt like the frightened boy who had stumbled upon a mystery in the village archives. He was something new now. A stormbearer. A guardian.
And when the Hunger rose again, as it surely would, he would be ready.
They set off, the ruins sinking into the mist behind them.
The battle was only just beginning.