Chapter 16 : The Road Ahead

The ruins loomed behind them, their jagged towers casting long shadows across the rocky plains. Ryn didn't look back as he and the Spirit Fox made their way east, the weight of the crystal shard heavy in his pack. The wind was cool and carried the faint scent of wildflowers, but the tension in Ryn's shoulders refused to ease.

The Spirit Fox trotted ahead, its glowing tail swaying as it sniffed the air. Despite its smaller size, it moved with an alertness that made Ryn feel safer.

"You're the only thing keeping me from losing my mind out here," Ryn muttered, offering the fox a small smile.

The fox chirped softly in response, its ears swiveling as it continued to scan the terrain.

The land ahead was rough, dotted with jagged rocks and patches of dry grass. The midday sun beat down on them, making every step feel heavier. Ryn's stomach growled, and he grimaced, reaching into his pack to pull out one of the last scraps of dried meat.

"Here," he said, crouching and holding the strip out to the fox. "You eat first."

The Spirit Fox hesitated, glancing at him before sniffing the offering. It let out a soft chirp of protest, nudging his hand back toward him.

"No, seriously," Ryn insisted. "You need the energy more than I do. That fight took a lot out of you."

The fox chirped again but eventually accepted the food, chewing it slowly as Ryn sat back on his heels.

He stared at the horizon, his mind racing with questions. The crystal shard, the vision, the shadows—none of it made sense. And then there was Kael, with his cryptic advice and knowing smirk.

Ryn clenched his fists. "I'm missing something," he muttered. "Something important."

The Spirit Fox finished its meal and padded over to him, nudging his arm with its nose.

"I know," Ryn said, ruffling its fur. "We'll figure it out. But first, we need to find some real food. And water. And maybe a place to sleep that isn't full of things trying to kill us."

The fox chirped in agreement, its tail flicking as it moved ahead.

They walked for hours, the rocky plains gradually giving way to a dense forest. The air grew cooler beneath the canopy of trees, and the sound of rustling leaves replaced the harsh whistle of the wind.

Ryn scanned the forest floor for anything edible—berries, roots, mushrooms—but found nothing he could confidently identify. His stomach growled louder, and he let out a frustrated sigh.

"Survival's supposed to get easier once you've passed the first day, right?" he muttered.

The Spirit Fox sniffed at a cluster of bushes, its ears twitching. Suddenly, it froze, its glowing fur dimming slightly as it crouched low.

"What is it?" Ryn asked, instinctively reaching for his knife.

The fox let out a low growl, its eyes fixed on something up ahead.

Ryn followed its gaze and spotted a dark shape lying in the underbrush. At first, he thought it was a fallen log, but as they moved closer, he realized it was a beast—a large, wolf-like creature with sleek black fur and a pair of curling horns on its head.

It was injured.

Deep gashes ran along its flank, and its breathing was shallow and labored. The ground around it was stained dark with blood, and one of its hind legs was twisted at an unnatural angle.

The Spirit Fox growled softly, its fur bristling.

"Easy," Ryn whispered, holding out a hand. "It's not a threat."

The wolf's ears twitched at the sound of his voice, and its glowing yellow eyes flickered open. It let out a low, guttural growl, baring its teeth weakly as it tried to lift its head.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Ryn said, keeping his tone calm. He crouched slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements. "I'm not here to hurt you."

The wolf growled again, but it was more of a warning than an actual threat.

Ryn studied the beast carefully. Its wounds were deep, but they didn't look like they'd been caused by another animal. The cuts were too precise, too clean.

"This wasn't a fight," Ryn muttered, his eyes narrowing. "This was done by a blade."

The Spirit Fox let out a questioning chirp, tilting its head.

"Someone attacked it," Ryn said. "A tamer, maybe. Or... someone else."

The thought sent a chill down his spine. The Wildlands were dangerous enough without adding people to the list of threats.

The wolf let out a faint whine, its glowing eyes flickering as it slumped back to the ground.

Ryn hesitated, his mind racing. He didn't have the supplies to help it—not properly. But leaving it here to die felt wrong.

"What do you think?" he asked, glancing at the fox.

The Spirit Fox chirped softly, its gaze steady.

"Yeah," Ryn said, sighing. "I know. We can't just leave it."

He reached into his pack, pulling out a strip of cloth and the small vial of water he'd been saving. It wasn't much, but it was all he had.

"Alright, big guy," Ryn said, inching closer to the wolf. "Let's see if we can patch you up."

The wolf growled weakly as he approached, its eyes narrowing.

"I know," Ryn said, keeping his tone steady. "You don't trust me. That's fair. But I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

The bond between him and the Spirit Fox pulsed faintly, and Ryn felt a flicker of reassurance—not his own, but the fox's.

The wolf's growl softened slightly, and it let its head fall back to the ground.

"Good," Ryn said, kneeling beside it. "This is going to sting a little."

He poured a small amount of water onto the cloth and began cleaning the beast's wounds. The wolf flinched and let out a low whine, but it didn't try to bite him.

The Spirit Fox watched intently, its glowing eyes following Ryn's movements.

"Stay alert," Ryn said, glancing at the fox. "Whoever did this might still be around."

The fox chirped in acknowledgment, its tail flicking as it moved to keep watch.

Ryn worked quickly, wrapping the cloth around the wolf's flank to stop the bleeding. It wasn't a permanent fix, but it would buy them some time.

"There," Ryn said, sitting back on his heels. "That's the best I can do for now."

The wolf let out a faint huff, its glowing eyes meeting his. For a moment, Ryn thought he saw something in its gaze—a flicker of understanding, or maybe gratitude.

"You're welcome," he said, offering a small smile.

The Spirit Fox padded over, sniffing at the wolf's injured leg before letting out a soft chirp.

"Think it'll survive?" Ryn asked, scratching the fox behind the ears.

The fox tilted its head, its glowing tail swaying thoughtfully.

"We'll see," Ryn said, standing and adjusting his pack. "Come on. Let's find a place to rest. We can't stay here."

The wolf watched them go, its breathing slow but steady.

As they disappeared into the trees, Ryn couldn't shake the feeling that their paths would cross again.