Seven days later.

  Standing before them, the mountain loomed, its dark silhouette cutting against the pale light of dusk. Mist gathered along the jagged slopes, curling like ghostly fingers as the last colors of the sunset bled into the sky.

  As the S?lvcù slowed their pace, the narrow trail gave way to a wide stone arch carved into the mountain’s face. Here, the air grew colder. Heavy.

  From within, distant howls echoed through the passageway. Low drums reverberated off the walls. Deep. Resonant. Steady. Guttural chanting rose with it, layered in harmony, the sound bouncing from wall to wall.

  Maelira’s ears twitched upright. “They’ve already started the Trial preparations,” she whispered, her voice nearly drowned by the sound.

  “What trial?” InuShin asked.

  “The Full Moon Trial.”

  Two Skifulv guards stepped into view, each standing a head taller than S?lvcù adults. Broad-shouldered with thick furred cloaks draped over their shoulders. White ears pricked forward. Long white hair tied into intricate braids, cyan eyes glinting in the moonlight. Their presence, immediate and imposing.

  Spear in hand, the first one approached. “Outsiders. State your purpose.” His tone was deep, edged with authority.

  Edrimar stepped forward without hesitation, his voice calm but commanding. “We seek an audience with your Chieftain. We bring word from the outer territories.”

  “You know it is our sacred time and it is forbidden to disrupt.”

  “We do not mean to arrive at this time,” Dravien joined, his voice calm. Collected. “If it was not urgent, we would have waited for a later time.”

  “What is so urgent?”

  “The Gr?nnage,” Zarien, the youngest of the adults, spoke up. His voice was slightly shaken. “Their actions bring suspicion. I suspect they are preparing for another war.”

  “A war?” The guard raised an eyebrow. His intense eyes bore into him. “What makes you consider this?”

  “Territory lines being crossed. Neutral grounds being disregarded and animals being slaughtered, drained of their blood, but not eaten.”

  “What does this have to do with us?”

  “We are not certain,” Maelira said. “But I believe it is best for us to form an alliance, to prepare for a possible war. To avoid casualties like last time. If at all possible, I wish to avoid casualties all together.”

  The guard’s nose twitched. His gaze shifted to Maelira and remained. Each second stretched as the guard took in her scent, stance, and silence.

  His mother stood firmly. Calm.

  The second guard fixed his gaze on InuShin, eyes narrowed as his nose twitched.

  Reaching into her satchel, she withdrew a small token. A carved knot of dark wood, inlaid with a pale crescent. She held it form, her arm steady.

  The guard took it, turned it over in his palm, and gave a low grunt. “The token is valid.”

  The other guard shifted his weight and growled lowly. “The Chieftain does not allow Fylkn?r to walk our halls. Especially during a sacred time. He remains outside.”

  Syelira’s breath halted for a brief second.

  “My son,” his mother snapped. Her tone was sharp. Direct. “Comes with me. And you will not use that word with him.”

  “Your son or not, Fylkn?r are not permitted.” His grip tightened, knuckles turning white.

  “I have as much right to enter as…”

  “Silence.” The first guard barked, reverberating in the narrow mountain hall. “Your presence during the Trial preparation could disturb the rites.”

  Maelira stepped in between InuShin and the guard, her voice level but authoritative. The air around her grew colder. “My son comes under my protection. If the Chieftain wishes to refuse him, she can tell me to my face.”

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  Silence stood between them, the weight of the tension taut. InuShin’s heartbeat echoed over the drums.

  “Very well,” the guard exhaled slowly and stepped aside. “But you will go straight to the Chieftain. No wandering. No interfering.”

  Access granted, the group moved forward into the archway.

  Immediately, the air shifted. Cooler, damper, tinged with the scent of moss and smoke. Clung to the mountain walls, burning torches lit not only their path, but the faint runes etched into the walls. Each one pulsed with a silvery glow.

  As the drumming grew louder, the chants reverberated around them. Multiple voices in unison, the unknown words repeated in cycle. Undertones of rattling, much like chains shifting or small coins clinking, filled the spaces in between.

  “What are they saying?” InuShin inquired.

  “The names of the Gods,” Edrimar answered, flatly.

  “Gods? I thought Cilo was our God.”

  Dravien added. “Cilo is the one who guides our Awakening. There are twenty-four Gods, each one with their own specific role. The Skifulv chant, to pay respect to each of them.”

  Twenty-four Gods? Do they all look like animals? What are they in charge of?

  InuShin’s breath halted as they stepped into the first chamber. A vast underground hall carved into the heart of the mountain.

  Stone terraces climbed along the edges, homes and workshops carved directly into the rock face. Fur and carved bone charms framed their doorway. Thick ropes and wooden bridges crossed above, leading to higher levels.

  Carved into the walls, the constellations patterns, each one with a different moon phase.

  At the far end, a massive moonstone gleamed, surrounded by Skifulv of varying ages. Children sat cross-legged near the edges, chanting under the guidance of the matron, their light voices blending with the deeper rhythms of the drums.

  Slowing down, eyes wide, he stared in awe.

  Unified by song, beat, and shared breath. The village moved as if it were one organism.

  A firm hand pressed against his shoulder, urging him forward. “Do not stare. Show respect.”

  Nodding quickly, InuShin followed closely as they crossed the chamber. Air thick with incense, herbs, and moss.

  Skifulv eyes watched them from everywhere; some curious, some wary, some openly hostile. Several muttered the same one as the guard outside.

  Fylkn?r. Though an unfamiliar word, the weight of its syllables stabbed him in the chest.

  “Sye,” inuShin muttered. “What does Fylkn?r mean?”

  A heavy silence sat frozen between them.

  He shifted his gaze, and met hers. Her eyes filled with sadness. Tears welling in the corner as she struggled to answer.

  “Is it a bad word?”

  She merely nodded.

  Ahead, stairs appeared. Maelira paused and glanced behind her at InuShin and Syelira. Her voice just above a whisper. “Stay close. And speak only if spoken to.”

  Swallowing hard, InuShin nodded. He wiped his palms against his pants, heart pounding harder now than during the fyrboar hunt.

  Whatever awaited them inside would decide whether they were welcomed in this place. Or tolerated.

  Descending into another chamber, the air grew even colder. Weighted.

  The Chieftain stood at the opposite end, her white hair tied back into a single braid. Face aged from battle and seasons. A cloak of gray and mist-blue draped from her shoulders. Her presence silenced the murmurs, yet the tension remained.

  Maelira approached first and bowed in respect. “Chieftain Soravell, we’ve come with information. The Gr?nnage, they move outside their territories. We worry there might be another war.”

  “Another war?” Her voice was calm. Soft, but clear.

  “Yes, we’ve found animals, on neutral ground, drained of blood.” Zarien stepped forward. “They’ve not been eaten, only deprived of their blood.”

  “What is it you want from us?”

  “To prevent the Gr?nnage from doing whatever they have planned. If we act fast enough, together, we can…”

  “Together? With a Fylkn?r? You must be out of your mind!” a Skifulv warrior shouted. “He doesn’t deserve to be here.”

  The weight grew heavier on his shoulders with each use of the word. On instinct, Syelira moved closer, wrapping her arm around his, lightly running her fingers along his inner arm.

  “Don’t listen to them,” she whispered.

  “Many of us lost our family in the last war,” another added. “Why don’t we fortify our home and defend from here?”

  A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd of Skifulv.

  InuShin’s heart pounded, eyes darting around as the tension rose.

  Dravien jumped in. “He’s not some stray. He’s one of us, and he’s proven himself more than once…”

  “He’s a stain between bloodlines!” Another shouted. “What proof could outweigh his unclean nature?”

  With a smirk, Edrimar said, “I thought the Skifulv were proud warriors. But while the Gr?nnage prepare themselves, you sit inside your little hole with your tail tucked between your legs. Maybe you’re afraid the boy will show you what real courage looks like.”

  An uproar of growls and shouts filled the room.

  “Edrimar,” Maelira said through gritted teeth. “You’re not helping.”

  He scoffed.

  Several Skifulv warriors stepped forward, hands tightly gripping their weapons.

  “Enough!” Syelira shouted, her voice sharp. “You speak of honor and strength, but you shame yourselves by turning on someone who’s done nothing but seek your help. Is this the Skifulv way? What would your ancestors think? To bare teeth at a boy before you even hear him speak?”

  The room quieted but the weight in the air remained. Glancing around, InuShin gaze fell upon the Chieftain. Her intense cyan eyes locked on him. Unblinking. Assessing.

  “You’ve heard their words,” she said, calmly but with authority. “What say you?”

  After a few deep breaths, he started quietly, but steady. “I didn’t come here to cause division. I came here because the Gr?nnage threaten more than just my people. They threaten everyone. I don’t know what fylkn?r means, but I don’t think it’s something I can change.” He swallowed, steeling his nerves. “But I can choose what I do. If I have to earn your trust, then I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  A ripple disrupted amongst the crowd as the Chieftain studied him.

  The silence lingered, longer than he hoped for.

  “Then the mountain will judge you.” She stated, calmly but with weight. “You will face the Full Moon Trial.”

  Angrily, a Skifulv warrior growled. “Chieftain, you would risk our sacred trial for a Fylkn?r?”

  “He may be a half-breed. But it's not how you enter this world that defines you. It's what you do with the life you're given that shapes who you are.”

  “This is foolish! He won’t survive the night.”

  “You can’t be serious…” Dravien defended.

  “Let him try.” Edrimar grinned. “If he lives, maybe you’ll stop howling long enough to fight.”

  Chieftain Soravell raised her arm, waving it and silencing everyone. “The mountain cares nothing for bloodlines or pride. It will keep him if he is unworthy, or return him if he is not. If he survives, he will have earned our answer.”

  The villagers fell silent. Some bristled. Others grimly nodded.

  The Chieftain’s stare doesn’t waver, but in her eyes, the faintest glint of approval.

  I don’t know anything about the Full Moon Trial. What am I doing? What is it? I could potentially die from it?

  The S?lvcù stood by his side, Edrimar glancing down with a smirk. “Show these wolves what it means to be strong.”