LAST EMBER

Chapter Three – Shadows of the Hunt

The first Ash Wolf lunged from the broken archway, its body gaunt and sinewed, skin stretched thin over jagged bones. Its breath steamed in the air, carrying the stench of decay. Kaelen had heard tales of them whispered by survivors—creatures born when hunger and cold twisted men into something less than human. Seeing one with his own eyes was worse than every story.

“Move!” the woman snapped, blade flashing.

The wolf hit the stone floor, snarling, but she was faster. Her blade cut across its throat, a spray of dark ichor hissing as it struck the ember’s glow. The beast convulsed once before collapsing into stillness.

But more shadows slithered into the cellar. Red eyes blinked from the gloom, a dozen pairs circling, growls rumbling like thunder.

Kaelen pressed back against the wall, heart hammering, clutching the satchel tight. His dagger felt pitifully small. “There are too many—”

“Then we don’t stay.” The woman slashed another wolf across the snout, forcing it back. “On my mark, run for the northern gate.”

Kaelen swallowed hard, nodding. His legs felt weak, but the ember pulsed warmly against his ribs, as if lending him strength.

The woman’s voice was steel. “Now!”

They burst from the cellar into the ashen streets. The night wind howled, carrying with it the pounding of claws on stone. The wolves gave chase, their howls echoing like a chorus of the damned.

Kaelen ran harder than he ever had, boots striking sparks on the frozen ground. His lungs burned, his vision blurred, but he did not dare slow. The ember’s heat guided him, steady and insistent.

One wolf leapt from the rubble to his left. Kaelen barely twisted aside, dagger slashing instinctively. The blade scored its flank, but the beast only snarled and lunged again. Before it could strike, the woman’s sword pierced through its chest. She wrenched the blade free, never breaking stride.

“Keep going!” she barked.

The northern gate loomed ahead—a crumbled archway that once marked the edge of Halewick. Beyond stretched the frost plains, vast and merciless, but safer than being cornered in the ruins.

Another wolf leapt, jaws snapping for Kaelen’s throat. He fell backward, crashing into the dust. The satchel swung loose, spilling the ember’s glow across the stones.

The wolf froze. Its snarls turned to a low, shuddering whine. The glow reflected in its eyes—not rage now, but hunger, desperation.

It lunged for the ember.

“No!” Kaelen rolled, clutching the coal to his chest. The wolf’s teeth tore into his shoulder instead. Pain flared white-hot, but Kaelen drove his dagger upward, burying it beneath the creature’s jaw. The beast thrashed once, then crumpled.

Kaelen staggered to his feet, blood soaking his sleeve, clutching the ember tightly. The woman grabbed his arm, steadying him. Her eyes flicked to the wound but she said nothing, only dragged him onward.

At last, they burst through the northern gate. The open plains stretched before them, endless frost glittering beneath a lifeless sky. Behind, the wolves howled, their cries carrying across the ruins.

The woman didn’t stop until they had crossed a ridge of stone and hidden themselves in a hollow. Only then did she let Kaelen collapse, gasping, the satchel clutched against him.

For a moment, silence. Only the rasp of their breaths and the ember’s faint crackle.

The woman wiped her blade clean, then crouched beside him. “You held onto it,” she said quietly.

Kaelen winced, pressing his hand to his bleeding shoulder. “I almost didn’t.”

“You did,” she insisted, her storm-gray eyes sharp. “That’s what matters. You understand now, don’t you? Everything will hunt the ember—man, beast, even the cold itself. If it falls into the wrong hands, we are finished.”

Kaelen’s jaw tightened. He wanted to deny her, to throw the burden away and walk into the frost. But he remembered the wolves’ eyes, the way even monsters craved the ember’s warmth. If he let it go, the world would not just lose fire. It would lose hope.

He looked at her. “Who are you really?”

She hesitated, then said, “My name is Seris. I was a Keeper, like your father. And now, if you’ll allow it, I’ll be your guide.”

Kaelen studied her, torn between suspicion and a fragile thread of trust. At last, he gave a short nod.

Seris’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “Then rest tonight. Tomorrow, we begin the road to the Dawnspire.”

The ember pulsed warmly in his hands, as though it too had heard her words. For the first time in years, Kaelen felt a spark of something almost forgotten.

Not just warmth.

Hope.