Into The Maw Of The Wilds

The forest stretched ahead, vast and silent.

Ronan tightened the straps of his pack and exhaled. The Black Veil was hunting him. The knowledge sat heavy in his chest, heavier than even the hunger thrumming beneath his skin.

He had to get stronger.

Fast.

Doomfang padded alongside him, the wyvern's golden eyes watchful as they moved through the thick underbrush. The morning light filtered through the trees, but it felt dim, as if the weight of the previous night's revelations still clung to the air.

"The Black Veil," Ronan muttered. "If they've hunted Forsaken for centuries, how do I survive them?"

Doomfang didn't answer immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured. There is only one way the Forsaken have ever survived.

Ronan looked up. "And that is?"

By embracing what you are.

The words hung between them, heavier than Ronan expected.

Embracing it.

The hunger. The power.

The beast.

His hands clenched at his sides. Last night, when he had fought the bandits, something had stirred within him. It had made him faster, stronger—more than human.

But it had also whispered to him. Urged him to take. To consume.

Could he truly embrace that without losing himself?

He didn't know.

But he was running out of time to figure it out.

The Maw of the Wilds

By midday, they reached the edge of a ravine.

The land here was wilder—untamed. The trees twisted toward the sky, gnarled and ancient, their roots breaking through the rocky cliffs. Below, the land stretched into a deep chasm known only as The Maw of the Wilds.

Few ever entered.

Even fewer returned.

Doomfang came to a stop, his tail flicking. This is it.

Ronan glanced at the wyvern. "You've been here before?"

No. But I know what lies within.

Ronan looked down into the chasm. A thick mist coiled around the jagged rock below. The air here felt different—charged, alive. He could sense something in the depths, as if the land itself was watching him.

"What's down there?"

Doomfang's gaze was unreadable. The remains of the Forgotten Beasts.

Ronan's breath hitched.

The Forgotten Beasts.

Legends spoke of creatures that had been lost to time—beasts of ancient power that had vanished from the world. Some said they had been hunted to extinction. Others claimed they had simply faded, their essence retreating to places untouched by man.

But if Doomfang was right…

Then that meant their spirits still lingered.

Waiting.

Watching.

And perhaps, willing to bind.

Ronan's heartbeat quickened. If he could find one of those beasts, if he could fuse with their essence—he might gain the strength he needed to survive the Black Veil.

He looked at Doomfang. "You think I can bind one?"

The wyvern studied him for a long moment. I think the question is whether you can withstand what it will demand of you.

Ronan swallowed.

Only one way to find out.

He adjusted his pack and took the first step into the Maw.

Descent into Darkness

The path downward was treacherous. The air grew colder with every step, the mist thickening around him. The further he went, the more he felt it—the presence of something.

The shadows shifted. The trees groaned, their bark splitting like old wounds.

And the whispers began.

At first, they were faint, like wind moving through the chasm. But as he went deeper, the voices became clearer.

You seek power.

Ronan froze.

The voice was not Doomfang's.

It was everywhere.

You hunger.

A chill crawled up his spine. "Who's there?"

No response. Only the wind, howling through the Maw.

Doomfang's muscles tensed. We are being watched.

Ronan pressed forward, his steps cautious. The whispers did not stop. They only grew stronger.

Then, the ground trembled.

A low, guttural growl rumbled through the air, vibrating through Ronan's very bones. The mist parted, revealing a cavern entrance—its maw wide and gaping, like the mouth of some ancient beast.

And within the darkness… something moved.

Ronan's breath caught in his throat.

Two massive eyes opened in the abyss.

Glowing. Golden.

Ancient.

Then the voice returned, deeper this time.

Do you seek the power of the Forgotten, child?

Ronan's pulse pounded in his ears.

The beast inside him stirred, answering the call.

This was it.

This was what he had come for.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward.

Into the darkness.