The Anchor Trial
1095 Words
We moved fast. Cass led, Kael at my side, Jax limping behind us but refusing to stay put. The Hollow felt different, like it was holding its breath. Every tree seemed to lean closer, every shadow a threat.
The path curved, then split. Cass paused, sniffed the air. “They’re north. By the Dead Oak.”
We ran.
The Dead Oak was a blackened skeleton, massive, hollowed by fire years ago. Fen stood beneath it, arms folded, tattoos coiling up his neck like smoke. Marek was beside him, too relaxed, too sure. Behind them, three more Exile-wolves waited, eyes sharp, bodies tense.
Fen didn’t look at us as we arrived. He just stared into the hollow trunk, face unreadable.
Kael stepped forward, all teeth and threat. “What is this?”
Marek smiled. “A trial. Fen’s idea.”
I glanced at Fen. “You’re letting him talk for you now?”
Fen’s lips curled in something that might have been a smile, or a warning. “I’m not letting anyone do anything. But you need to see what’s inside.”
Jax winced as he dropped to sit against a root. “If there’s another wolf in there, I’m done. I’ll just become a vegetarian or something.”
No one laughed.
Marek gestured to the jagged hole at the base of the tree. “Your father hid something here, Lira. The Sovereign’s anchor. The thing that keeps you from burning out. Or burning the whole world with you.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Why bring us here?”
Fen finally looked at me, and for a second, his mask slipped. There was a hesitation there, something haunted, flickering in his eyes. “Because it’s not a thing. It’s a choice.” He glanced away, jaw tight, as if the words cost him. For all his calm, I could see the strain in his shoulders, the weight of whatever he was holding back. This trial was his idea, but it wasn't just a test for me, it was something he couldn’t do for himself.
I forced myself into the hollow. The air around it felt… wrong. Cold, heavy, dense with the scent of old magic and worse memories. Inside, something pulsed- slow, deep, like a heartbeat beneath the earth.
“You want me to go in?” I asked.
Fen nodded. “Alone.”
Kael started to protest, but Fen just shook his head. “No one else can do it. Not even me.”
Marek smiled, all teeth. “She can take one with her. For an anchor. A tether.”
I knew what he meant. Kael or Fen. The old choice, the old line. The bond I’d broken, or the tie I’d never named.
I looked at Kael. I looked at Fen. Both waiting, both too proud to ask.
I wanted to say Fen. He knew me in the dark, in the quiet, in the places I didn’t dare speak. Still, Kael…..Kael was the wound and the promise. The one who broke me and the one who held me together.
“I want Kael,” I said, voice steady.
Kael blinked, then nodded. Fen’s expression didn’t change, but I saw something flicker behind his eyes- relief, or regret.
Marek clapped his hands. “Perfect. Go in together. If you find the anchor, you come back changed. If not… well. The Hollow gets another ghost.”
Cass stepped forward, hand on my arm. “Don’t die in there. If you do, I’ll haunt you.”
Jax grinned, but his eyes were wet. “I’ll save you a seat in the kitchen.”
Kael squeezed my hand. “Ready?”
I wasn’t. But I nodded anyway.
We crawled inside.
The trunk was cold and damp. The world narrowed to black, then silver. My power surged, wild but not feverish. Kael’s hand was warm in mine, centering me.
We crawled until the world opened up. We were in a chamber, roots twisting above us, shining softly with magic. In the centre sat a stone altar, cracked and old, covered in runes.
On it, a single object, a silver pendant, shaped like the Hollow’s pool.
Kael let go of my hand. “Is that it?”
I stepped forward. The pendant beat with power, old and familiar, like a memory I’d never owned. The runes around it glowed, then faded.
I reached for it.
The world spun. I fell.
I landed in a memory, but not my own.
Kael was standing before me, younger, blood on his hands. Aldric towered over him, voice cold.
“If you claim her, she dies. If you walk away, you save her life.”
Kael’s face- so open, so raw. He looked at me, or through me. “There has to be another way.”
Aldric’s answer was a slap. “There isn’t. You choose. You always choose.”
Kael’s voice broke. “I choose her. But I’ll let her hate me if it keeps her alive.”
The memory splintered, cracks running through the air.
I was falling again, this time in Kael’s arms.
He was crying. I’d never seen that before.
“I thought I lost you,” he said, voice shaking.
I pressed my forehead to his. “I’m right here.”
The silver pendant was in my hand, warm and heavy.
The anchor wasn’t a thing. It was a truth. It settled into me quietly but utterly, like a thread running through every part of my magic. Something fierce and reckless turned steady in my chest. The power inside me didn’t claw to get out or threaten to burn me hollow. Now, my fire listened when I called it, quick and sure. The anchor made me stronger, yes, but not because it gave me more power, instead, it let me choose how to use it, and who I could become. This was the difference: I no longer had to fear losing control, because the anchor made me whole.
I could choose him. I could choose myself.
I could choose both.
We crawled out of the tree, blinking in the sudden light.
Fen was waiting, unreadable.
Marek smiled. “You found it.”
I nodded, holding up the pendant. “We found each other.”
Cass hugged me, hard.
Jax whooped, then winced. “Next time, let’s just bake bread.”
Kael squeezed my hand, real and unashamed.
Fen just nodded. “You’re not done yet.”
I looked at him, at the world, at the Hollow.
“No,” I said. “But I’m not running anymore.”
- Writer
