Chapter 3: The Circle’s Flame

The next morning, Master Aren Maekha brought Hanae to The Circle's training grounds to meet Rhett Veyar.

The training grounds were located on the eastern side of Vaelhara, built upon a flat stretch of land that overlooked a misty cliff.

The walls were open, the pillars curved in a circular formation like a shield, and at the center stood an engraved spirit symbol—a mark of protection, strength, and devotion.

This was where the Khurai learned to master their bodies and their spirits.

This was where the line between human and shifter began to blur.

Hanae walked slowly, observing a group of young Khurai training in formation.

Some had partially shifted—elongated arms, emerging fangs, fine fur beginning to spread along their skin.

They spun, struck, defended—moving like a dance carefully crafted to kill.

Wolf-shifters, Hanae noted to herself.

Aren stood to her right, watching them with a sharp, focused gaze.

"One of them is Rhett?" Hanae asked lightly.

Aren nodded, pointing toward the Khurai leading the formation.

"He's the one at the front."

Hanae sharpened her focus.

A dark-haired young man with streaks of gray moved with wild, aggressive energy. Every strike was full of raw force, as if he refused to ever hold back.

"Seems… combustible. Wolf-shifter?"

Aren nodded again.

"He's the fire within our Circle," Aren said, half proud, half concerned. "And sometimes, that fire burns what it tries to protect."

Rhett halted when he noticed their presence.

His gaze locked onto Hanae immediately—cold, suspicious, as if he had already decided to dislike her before a single word was spoken.

He approached, his shoulders tense, his breath still uneven from training.

"So this is the Sentinel," Rhett muttered, his tone bordering on mockery.

"Hanae Moreau." She introduced herself with a small nod.

"An outsider sent to tinker with our spirits." Rhett crossed his arms. "Do you think our spirits are puzzles you can rearrange as you please?"

"If they are puzzles," Hanae met his gaze calmly, "then yours is the missing piece you keep hiding up your sleeve."

Rhett narrowed his eyes, but Aren quickly stepped in.

"You're not here to argue, Rhett. Sentinel Moreau is here to help Merek."

"Help?" Rhett scoffed harshly. "Merek needs Lucia—not some ritual from an outsider. He needs answers, not some Veil Concord theories."

Hanae held back a faint smile.

"And what answers have you found so far?"

"I've been tracking the vampire that hunted them. I know they're still roaming near Westvale. They haven't gone far. I'll find them."

"On your own?"

"If I must." Rhett's gaze burned. "I don't need Concord's interference. We can handle our own."

"Yes," Hanae murmured, stepping forward until she was right in front of him, locking eyes. "You always think you can handle everything. Until your spirit paths start to bleed."

For a moment, the air between them tensed like a drawn bow.

Rhett gritted his teeth, visibly on the verge of snapping.

Aren laid a firm hand on Rhett's shoulder, pressing down just enough to steady him.

"That's enough. Merek needs you focused. And you need Sentinel Moreau if you truly want to save him."

Rhett shrugged off Aren's hand. "I don't trust you, Sentinel."

"Good." Hanae turned away, walking past him. "Trust makes people careless. I'd rather you stay on guard."

Aren almost smiled behind a weary sigh.

"You two are like embers tossed into a wooden barrel."

"We'll learn to contain the heat." Hanae glanced back briefly. "Or we'll burn together."

...

Afterward, Aren offered to show Hanae around The Circle's heart.

"Our structure isn't as complicated as you might think," Aren explained, pointing at a carved wooden map.

"We have the warrior division—where Rhett and Merek belong. Then the scouts, the border guards, the spirit healers, and the liaison to the tribal elders."

"And you're their Pillar?" Hanae asked.

"Yes. The Pillar holds the balance. I'm not an alpha, not a ruler—but I'm the one who keeps them steady."

"No alpha?"

"No. We don't lead with dominance. The strongest is the one who can be trusted most, not the one who's most feared."

Hanae nodded slowly, starting to grasp their system.

The Circle was a community, not a rigid hierarchy like those she had encountered elsewhere.

But that also meant they were fragile—prone to fracture if trust between them ever wavered.

"Are all shifters in Vaelhara from the wolf lineage?"

"No. There are tigers, bears, eagles, fox, even deer. But the wolf families are the oldest and most numerous."

"And you? What's your lineage?"

"I'm from the eagle line," Aren replied. "I used to fly over the borders, watching from the skies. But I've long stopped relying on that form."

Hanae tilted her head slightly. "Stopped… or chose not to?"

Aren smiled faintly. "A choice. Sometimes, the greatest strength doesn't lie in claws or fangs—but in those who can remain steady when the storm hits."

Hanae fell quiet, her mind already mapping out her next steps.

But part of her lingered on Aren's words, as if they carried a weight she hadn't expected to find here.

What does it mean to stay steady in the storm?

Was it endurance? Or was it the quiet refusal to collapse when everyone else has already given up?

She inhaled slowly, grounding herself. 'There's still much I need to see. Much I need to understand.'

"Tomorrow, I'll trace Merek's spirit path." Her gaze drifted toward the forest, where the mist slowly swallowed the treetops.

"If Rhett refuses to come, I'll drag him. And if I must—I'll go alone."

Aren looked at her, a trace of amusement and respect in his eyes.

"You know, Sentinel Moreau, I'm starting to understand why Concord sent you."

"I wasn't their first choice," Hanae said lightly. "But I'm often the last one they turn to."

And sometimes, the last choice is the only one left when everything else begins to fall apart.