The shadow hit the ground hard enough to shake the cavern.
Stone cracked beneath its weight. Dust exploded upward. The Hollowfang snarled, fur bristling, stepping in front of me with a sound that vibrated in my bones.
I barely had time to breathe before the creature lunged again.
It wasn’t a Wraith.
It wasn’t anything I’d seen in the trials.
It was older, carved from the same stone as the cave itself, its body shaped like a massive wolf with jagged plates of rock for armor and eyes glowing molten gold.
A Stonebound Guardian.
Banthys’s first creation.
Castor shouted, “Spread out!”
We scattered.
The Guardian slammed into the ground where I’d been standing a heartbeat earlier. The impact sent a shockwave through the cavern, knocking Cyrus off his feet and nearly toppling Briar.
Sahora grabbed my arm, pulling me behind a pillar of stone. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I said, breathless, lying.
The shard pulsed violently against my chest, reacting to the Guardian’s presence. It felt like it was trying to tear itself free.
Sahora’s eyes flicked to the glow beneath my shirt. “Oliver—”
“I know.”
The Guardian roared, a sound like grinding mountains, and charged again.
The Hollowfang met it head‑on.
The two creatures collided with such force that the cavern walls rattled. Claws scraped against stone armor. Teeth sank into rock. The Hollowfang’s growl echoed like thunder.
Castor darted in, blade flashing, striking at the Guardian’s exposed joints. Sparks flew. The Guardian barely flinched.
Ami shouted, “It’s not taking damage!”
“It’s stone!” Cyrus yelled back. “What did you expect?”
“Less stone!”
The Guardian swung its massive tail, sending Cyrus flying into a stalagmite.
Sahora cursed and sprinted toward him.
I stepped out from behind the pillar, heart pounding. The shard pulsed again, harder, brighter, and suddenly the Guardian’s molten eyes snapped toward me.
It sensed it.
It sensed me.
“Oliver!” Sahora shouted. “Move!”
I couldn’t.
The Guardian charged.
The world narrowed to its glowing eyes, its massive jaws, the thunder of its steps.
The shard flared, blinding, burning.
My knees buckled.
The Guardian leapt;
And the Hollowfang slammed into it mid‑air, knocking it off course.
They crashed into the cavern wall, stone shattering around them.
Sahora reached me, grabbing my shoulders. “Oliver, look at me!”
“I— I can’t— the shard—”
It felt like fire beneath my ribs, like something ancient was waking inside me.
Elyon’s voice cut through the chaos. “It’s reacting to the Essence!”
The Guardian roared, throwing the Hollowfang aside. It turned toward me again, molten eyes narrowing.
It wasn’t attacking us.
It was protecting the flame.
And the shard inside me was calling to it.
Sahora stepped in front of me, daggers drawn. “You want him, you go through me.”
The bond flared; fierce, protective, alive.
The Guardian lunged.
Castor intercepted, blade slashing across its face. “Over my dead body!”
Ami through lightening dust on the ground, sending a shockwave of light that staggered the Guardian for half a heartbeat.
Briar shouted, “We need a plan!”
Elyon’s eyes glowed silver. “We don’t fight it.”
Cyrus groaned. “Then what do we do, Elyon? Hug it?”
Elyon pointed at me. “Oliver stops calling to it.”
I stared at him. “I’m not doing it on purpose!”
“Then control it!”
“I don’t know how!”
The Guardian roared again, charging.
The Hollowfang leapt between us, taking the hit full force. It yelped — a sound that tore through me — and crashed into the ground.
“No!” I shouted.
The shard pulsed, once, twice, then exploded with light.
Green energy surged from my chest, slamming into the Guardian. It skidded backward, claws digging trenches into the stone.
Everyone froze.
Even the Guardian.
Sahora stared at me, breathless. “Oliver… what was that?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
The Guardian growled low and uncertainly, then stepped back.
Not defeated.
Recognizing.
Elyon exhaled. “It knows you carry the shard. It won’t kill you.”
Castor wiped sweat from his brow. “Good. Fantastic. What about the rest of us?”
The Guardian lowered its head.
Then turned.
And began walking deeper into the cave.
Cyrus blinked. “Is it… leaving?”
Elyon shook their head. “No.”
Their voice dropped to a whisper.
“It’s leading us.”
Sahora took my hand, steady, grounding. “Can you walk?”
“Yes,” I said, though my legs trembled.
The Hollowfang limped to my side, brushing its head against my arm.
I rested my hand on its fur. “Thank you.”
It rumbled softly.
The Guardian paused at the mouth of a deeper tunnel, molten eyes glowing in the dark.
Waiting.
Sahora squeezed my hand. “Ready?”
“No,” I said. “But I’m going anyway.”
She smiled, small, fierce, proud.
“Good.”
Together, we followed the Guardian into the deep.