Kael didn't know how long he stood over the fallen Warden, his spear gripped tightly in his hands. His breath came in shallow gasps, his body trembling from the exertion, but there was more than physical exhaustion that weighed him down. The creature's blood—dark, thick, and heavy—stained the earth beneath him, and the air around them seemed to crackle with a lingering tension, as if the forest itself was holding its breath.
The Warden's body was still, its massive frame no longer the terrifying force it had been mere moments ago. Yet the world around Kael felt different—darker, heavier. The fight had not just taken a toll on his body; it had stirred something deeper within him. Something ancient. Something connected to the wilds.
He could feel it now, that strange, suffocating pull. The craving was stronger than ever, not just for power, but for belonging. The wilds were calling to him, urging him to take what he had just fought to resist. The primal part of him—the part that had begun to change with each passing day, with each mutation—was screaming to embrace the force inside him. To let it consume him, to become one with the wilds.
But Kael resisted.
He had faced this before, but now it felt different. More insistent. As though the wilds were not just a force outside of him but a part of him, a part that was growing, pushing against his boundaries. He had walked the line between humanity and beast for so long, but now, he could feel that line fracturing, splintering beneath him.
"You did it," the wanderer said, their voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Kael glanced over to see them standing a few paces away, their expression unreadable. They were calm, collected, as if they hadn't just witnessed the fall of a creature that was more force than animal.
But Kael could see the way their eyes flickered over him, noting the subtle changes—the way his body seemed to hum with a low, almost imperceptible energy. The wanderer knew.
"I didn't expect it to be so… powerful," Kael said, his voice rough as he spoke. His hand flexed around the spear, as if to remind himself that it was still real, that he was still him.
The wanderer nodded, their gaze never leaving Kael. "The wilds have a way of claiming what they touch. And you—" They stopped, as if choosing their next words carefully. "You've been claimed for a long time, Kael. Longer than you know."
Kael's brow furrowed. "I'm not one of them. I don't belong here."
The wanderer stepped forward, their steps measured, their eyes hard. "No. You don't belong there. But the truth is, Kael, you never fully belonged to the bastion either. You're something else—something between the two worlds."
Kael's stomach twisted. The wanderer's words hit too close to home. He had always felt the fracture, the divide within him. The sense that he wasn't quite human, but not fully beast either. The wilds had changed him, but had they claimed him?
He shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts, the doubts. "I'm not some creature to be controlled. I won't let the wilds win."
The wanderer regarded him silently for a moment, their eyes sharp, like they could see the storm raging inside him. "Then you'll have to fight for it," they said finally. "Because the wilds don't take kindly to those who defy them."
Kael knew they were right. The Warden was only the beginning. He had drawn blood from a creature born of the wilds, but there were others. More powerful, more ancient, and far less forgiving.
The silence between them stretched, thick and tense, before the wanderer broke it once again. "You'll need to keep moving. The wilds won't let you rest. Not yet."
Kael didn't respond immediately. Instead, he looked down at the Warden, now lifeless on the ground. Its death was a victory, but it also felt like a warning. A reminder that there were forces at work here that Kael couldn't begin to comprehend. He had come into the wilds to survive, to grow stronger, but now… Now he was starting to realize that survival might not be enough.
"Where to now?" Kael asked, finally turning back to the wanderer.
The wanderer's lips twisted into something close to a smile, though there was no warmth in it. "We find what comes next."
They traveled for days through the dense forest, moving deeper into the wilds than Kael had ever ventured before. The trees here were ancient, their twisted roots stretching out like claws, their leaves thick and dark, blocking out the sky above. It was a place where the light itself seemed to hesitate, unwilling to penetrate the heavy canopy.
Kael felt it—the growing presence of something beyond the forest, something ancient and powerful, like a great beast lying in wait. The deeper they went, the stronger the pull became, and with it, the ever-present craving. He could feel the wilds in his blood now, thick and heavy, like a river running through him. It wasn't just a power that he could wield—it was a part of him, reshaping him, changing him.
And yet, it was still not enough. It was never enough.
Every night, as they camped beneath the shadow of the towering trees, Kael's dreams were filled with the Warden's growls, its words echoing in his mind. "You cannot escape what you are. You are a thing of the wilds."
Each day, Kael fought the urge to give in, to let the wilds take him completely. But with each passing hour, the battle felt more and more futile. The craving was stronger, more insistent. His body was changing—his senses sharper, his reflexes faster. His vision was clearer, and his hearing was more acute. The power was growing inside him, and every fiber of his being screamed to let it take over.
One evening, as they sat by the fire, Kael couldn't hold it in anymore.
"What am I becoming?" he asked, his voice hoarse and raw. He stared into the flames, but it wasn't the fire that held his attention. It was the wilds inside him, the hunger that gnawed at his thoughts.
The wanderer didn't answer immediately. Instead, they poked at the fire, their face illuminated by the flickering flames. "What you become is up to you," they said finally. "The wilds can shape you, but they can't make you into something you're not."
Kael clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "I don't feel like me anymore."
The wanderer's gaze softened for the briefest moment. "You're not the same. The wilds have changed you. But that doesn't mean you're lost. Not yet."
Kael didn't know if he believed them. The wilds were powerful, but they were also fickle. They didn't care about who you were. They only cared about what you could become.
And Kael wasn't sure if he could fight that.
But as the fire crackled and the night deepened, Kael made a decision. He wouldn't let the wilds define him—not yet. Not until he knew exactly what he was fighting for.
The next morning, they set out once more. But this time, the wilds felt different. The air was thicker, the forest more oppressive. Something was watching them, something that didn't belong to the wilds. Something darker, more malevolent. Kael felt it crawling under his skin, prickling at the back of his neck.
He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew one thing—it was coming.
The wilds were no longer just a force that sought to claim him. Now, they were a battlefield.
And Kael was about to face his greatest test yet.
In this chapter, Kael continues his journey deeper into the wilds, grappling with the growing power inside him and the tension between embracing it or resisting it. He faces internal turmoil as he questions what he has become, but his resolve remains—to not let the wilds define him. However, a new and even darker force looms on the horizon, and Kael's fight is far from over.