The General and the Colonel approached the monstrous mammoth, their boots squelching on the rain-slicked bridge. Atop the beast, the Northern Queen stood silhouetted against the midday sun, her hand resting on the reins. She brought the creature to a halt, the pack of Chaos Hounds at its feet mirroring the sudden stillness.

  Her voice, when she spoke, carried a regal grace laced with authority. "Marcus, Adam," she greeted, the light obscuring her expression. "Thank you for getting rid of the vermin, your little force here was quite impressive. Those little green monsters were becoming a problem, and the orcs are just dumb and useless. My new army does what it's told. she holds out her staff as the hounds and mammoth roar in unison."

  The General, his weathered face etched with tension, gripped his gun and club tighter. "Twenty-five winters have passed since your last intrusion," he rumbled. "Why the return now?"

  "Straight to the point, then, without any pleasantries," the Queen replied, a hint of anger creeping into her tone. "One might say we haven't exactly parted on the best terms."

  "Contested terms!" the General roared back, his voice heavy with past grievance. "Your inner circle put a kill order on our heads! We barely escaped with our lives!"

  "Contested," the Queen echoed, her voice laced with disappointment. "And how uncouth not to offer a proper welcome. I suppose a parting of ways during such a tumultuous time..." Her words trailed off, then hardened with renewed anger.

  "Tumultuous?" Colonel bellowed, unable to contain himself any longer. "He was plotting a coup, a rebellion against your very rule!"

  "I won't deny he needed to be dealt with," the Queen conceded. "But a matter for the inner circle, not for you to take matters into your own hands."

  The ground trembled as the mammoth shifted impatiently, its massive paw pawing at the bridge.

  "So," the General interjected, forcing a calmer tone, "why this sudden march across our lands?"

  "For you, Marcus," the Queen's voice dropped, a tremor of emotion breaking through the facade. "My son perished that fateful night. I seek recompense, justice for my fallen family. I would have come sooner, but the inner circle's squabbling and your skirmish with the Orcs and Ogres caused a delay."

  A wave of panic washed over the General and the Colonel. They exchanged a silent, frantic look.

  "Should we tell her?" the Colonel whispered, his voice barely audible.

  The General's eyes widened in silent terror. "No," he breathed back, equally hushed. "Not yet. But perhaps we can find a way to convince her to return to her side of the bridge."

  The General sucked in a deep breath, his voice booming across the bridge. "Your son isn't dead!"

  The Queen on the mammoth's back froze. Disbelief flickered across her features for a moment, then hardened into suspicion. "What game are you playing at, Marcus? I saw the blood in his room and the fire burned everything, nothing was left!"

  "Ezekiel wasn't just after your life," the General explained, urgency lacing his words. "He targeted your son as well. The blood you saw belonged to Ezekiel, not him. We fled south, knowing full well we'd be hunted down for executing a member of the inner circle, right or wrong. We took him because he was in danger!"

  A heavy silence descended as the Queen processed his words. Slowly, she extended a long staff towards them. The mammoth, sensing her unspoken command, lumbered down on its knees, allowing her to dismount gracefully. The Chaos Hounds mirrored her movements, slinking closer as the Queen, a slender figure in a tight black dress, approached Marcus and Adam.

  Her stark appearance was a study in contrasts – long dark hair pulled back beneath an antler crown, framing round black eyes that stood out against her pale skin. "Where is my son?" she demanded, her voice trembling with raw emotion. The Chaos Hounds snarled menacingly, adding to the tense atmosphere.

  Marcus raised a placating hand, Adam instinctively taking a defensive stance, his massive sword held at the ready. "He's safe, and nearby," Marcus assured her cautiously.

  "Tell me where!" the Queen shrieked, tears glittering in her dark eyes as she slammed her staff onto the stone bridge.

  Panic flickered across Marcus's face. "We will bring him to you," he stammered, stealing a glance at Adam. "If you and your forces retreat back across the bridge, we can talk to him, see if he wishes to come to you."

  "Enough with games, you are in no position to offer terms!" the Queen roared, her voice cracking with unshed tears. "If you won't tell me, I'll find him myself, and anyone who stands in my way will face my wrath!" She jabbed her staff towards the battered hunters and defenders, still recovering from Erik's rampage.

  "Tear them apart!" she commanded.

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  With a frightening alacrity, the Chaos hounds surged forward, a wave of black and red fury rushing past Marcus and Adam. They were caught off guard, knocked sprawling by the stampede as the hounds thundered across the bridge.

  "Don't!" Marcus yelled in a desperate plea that was lost in the snarls and pounding paws.

  The Queen stalked towards the fallen men, her eyes flashing with a cold fury. "Don't what?" she spat. "Spare your precious hunters?"

  Adam groaned, struggling to rise. "He's one of them, down there!" he rasped, pointing a shaky finger towards the battlefield.

  The Queen's head snapped towards him. In a swift movement, she slammed her staff onto the bridge. A red glow pulsed for a moment at the tip before receding. Ignoring Marcus, she locked eyes with the hounds, her voice sharp with command. "Halt! Bring him to me!"

  The hunters, surrounded by the snarling hounds, erupted in panic. A desperate defender lunged, driving his spear into the back of one beast. This only served as a trigger, sending the pack into a feeding frenzy. The hounds made short work of the remaining defenders, their savage efficiency tearing flesh from bone. The surviving hunters huddled together, whimpering under the hungry gazes of the pack.

  The hounds, with nips and nudges, herded the terrified hunters towards the bridge. Erik and Leif, supporting a wounded Lucy, moved with Grom as a shield behind them. Reaching Marcus and Adam, Leif rushed to help them up. "You two alright?" she queried, concern etched on her face.

  Erik helped Lucy to a sheltered spot by the bridge wall as Grom settled beside her, his massive form offering comfort. Erik then approached Marcus, his gaze flicking nervously between the snarling hounds, the immense mammoth, and the Queen. "What's happening?" he blurted, his voice strained.

  Marcus winced as he rose to his feet, a grimace contorting his features. "Erik," he began, his voice heavy with a mixture of dread and anticipation, "this is the Queen of the Northern Wilds, Anna. Your mother."

  Erik's face hardened. "My mother is at the convent," he stated, his voice laced with anger.

  Marcus flinched at the accusation. "No," he sighed, his voice dropping to a low rasp. "I took you from Queen Anna twenty winters ago. I believed it was the best way to protect you. Nicholas and Nancy…they were old friends, childless. I… I wasn't equipped to raise a boy alone." Shame radiated from him.

  Erik gritted his teeth, clenching his fists as he grappled with the revelation. His entire life – a lie. Anger, confusion, an unsettling sense of loneliness – a maelstrom of emotions churned within him.

  Queen Anna, tears streaming down her face, stretched out a hand towards him. "Erik," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion, "I am your mother. You are my firstborn son, and heir to the throne of the Northern Wilds."

  Erik's gaze darted between the battered hunters, Lucy wincing in pain, and the Queen's outstretched hand. "Why now?" his voice cracked, his frustration spilling over. "Why tell me all this now? Why the lies for so many winters?"

  Marcus placed a shaky hand on Erik's shoulder, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I… I thought you'd be safe living a normal life," he stammered. "I never imagined you'd face so much loss." The weight of his deceit hung heavy in the air.

  Erik flung Marcus's hand away, his eyes blazing with fury. He stumbled back a step, his entire body trembling with a potent cocktail of emotions.

  "Erik," Queen Anna pleaded, taking a hesitant step towards him. Several mammoths lumbered into view from the other side of the bridge, their massive forms shaking the very stones beneath their feet.

  "What about the hunters?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with barely contained rage.

  Anna faltered for a moment, a strained smile twisting her features. "Don't concern yourself with that," she dismissed dismissively.

  Erik scoffed, his gaze darting towards Lucy, who leaned heavily against Grom's side, her face contorted in pain. "And if I stay?"

  The hopeful flicker in Anna's eyes died instantly. "I couldn't protect you then, Erik," she choked out, a fresh wave of tears cascading down her cheeks.

  "What I've learned in the past twenty winters is enough," he retorted, his voice laced with a bitter edge. "I can protect myself and those I care about. And I did it without you."

  Anna's expression hardened. "Erik," she began, her voice dropping to a low murmur, "have you experienced… darkness consuming you? A rage you can't control? Did you enjoy that power?"

  Erik ignored her question, his gaze flitting between Leif, her face etched with concern, and Lucy, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and defiance. Adam pushes past Marcus to Erik, “The Church betrayed us, the Elves turned their backs to us, the Defender Guild launched a full attack against us. We can’t go back to the cities, the Enforcers would kill us, or worse.” Marcus and Leif's eyes darted side to side in an attempt to reconcile with the reality. I don’t know why that big feathered fucker wants you, but it can’t be good.”

  He finally turned back to Anna, his voice firm. "If I come with you, you leave the hunters alone. At least for now."

  A tense silence stretched between them before Anna conceded with a curt nod. "Very well. They can live... for now. But, the hunters seem to be the hunted." She extended a hand towards him, a strained smile returning to her lips.

  Erik ignored her outstretched hand, instead reaching down to gently help Lucy to her feet. Lucy recoiled slightly, overwhelmed by the avalanche of revelations.

  "Back to the Northern Wilds?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I won't be welcome there."

  Anna echoed her sentiment, a sneer twisting her lips. "Of course not. Ogres lost their place there long ago."

  Erik turned to Lucy, a steely resolve hardening his features. "You're my apprentice," he declared, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Rule one, you stay with me, and um, I don’t think I can do it without you."

  He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a murmur only she could hear. "The helmet told me I need to go to the north for the truth and to stay away from the church. besides I'm a prince and I want you to be with me, partner."

  A single tear traced the path of a scar on Lucy's cheek. Erik reached down, his touch gentle as he brushed it away. He gazed into her amber eyes, searching for an answer.

  Lucy, after a long moment, nodded hesitantly, then reached out and clung to him tightly. As Leif looks away, her eyes red and teary, bumping into Grom. He reached down, placing his massive hand on her back, as she sobs quietly.

  Marcus spoke up as Erik looked back to the hunters, “We will be going to the Tribe Lands, Sigurd may offer some protection.”

  Leif looked up to the giant Grom, “I’m taking this guy with me to the Island nation, we’ll find Adon.”

  A wave of silent agreement rippled through the gathered hunters, their heads nodding in unison as they exchanged determined looks.Vargr ran up to Lucy and together, they walked towards Queen Anna, a united front facing an uncertain future.

  "Show me my new home," Erik said, his voice laced with a hint of apprehension, yet a flicker of determination burned in his eyes.