Chapter 36: A helping hand

The forest shifted when Vaeron reappeared out of the shadows knitting together in the air in a split second, before disappearing without a sound. His expression was a guise of coldness where beneath the whorl mask lay rage blazing inside him.

The silent thud of his footsteps against the snow echoed in the empty forest as those skeptical eyes swept the devastation with a predator’s patience. As expected, the forest hadn’t healed.

Trees still lay splintered outward in unnatural spirals as their trunks ruptured from within where snow had melted and refrozen in warped glassy sheets, etched with scorched marks long diminished. The air tasted wrong with ozone and ash threaded through lingering magic tangled in the air.

It didn’t take long for him to recognize the pattern. What at first appeared scattered, starting from the accident, the emergence of the Umbrathralls, her abduction, it all aligned too cleanly to be chance. Each event fed the next with deliberate precision, timed not merely to harm, but to anticipate bringing him to the conclusion that it wasn’t the work of an opportunist or a careless enemy but someone had been watching.

Someone not from afar, but from within, close enough to trace his movements, to predict where they would be before he ever arrived. Close enough to know when his guard was down, and when she would be most vulnerable.

That was the part that unsettled and enraged him.

It wasn’t an ordinary scheme he could dismantle once uncovered. Whoever orchestrated it hadn’t just planned around him but they had planned with the knowledge of him, as though his path had been mapped in advance, whispered back to his enemies step by step.

He stood still for several heartbeats before moving toward the center of the clearing. His gaze sharpened, following the geometry of the markings before kneeling. His gloved fingers brushed away frost and debris until the markings beneath were exposed. They were burned deep into the earth itself, and not carved. One could tell no blade could have done this. Lines of impossible geometry overlapped and bled into one another, half-corrected, half-corrupted perhaps, as if the spell had been torn apart mid-breath and forcibly rewritten by a will that refused submission.

The will being the wolf Princess.

Earlier before he arrived at the middle of the scene, it glowed. His eyes were quick to catch the way the sigils kindled like fire and died the instant he destroyed them. Or perhaps, the instant something inside her shifted.

Vaeron scanned the rest of the clearing, noticing something buried under snow. He rose, walking away from the circle to the outer portion and squatted. His gloved hand brushed the snow until the ground was clear with different geometries of symbols in contrast to the ones at the circle.

His forehead creased in confusion. What was this place?

It didn’t just look like a forest, but a ritual ground, and he rose with his gaze lifting as the forest seemed to lean inward. Branches creaked softly as their leaves whispered with unease. He stepped on them, brushing past the clearing. The forest was quite, eerily quiet that were capable of causing one to question their existence. The wrongness in the air was in contrast to the things it was built on, however didn’t affect the creature made of one. Instead, it propelled him deeper and deeper into the forest.

A faint noise – so quiet that it couldn’t be caught by ordinary ears – snapped the air, breaking the silence. It was so faint that it would’ve passed for settling snow to any other ear, like a hitch of movement.

Vaeron froze on his tracks, sniffing the air carrying the unmistakable smell of ozone and smoke and something else that caused his eyes to darken as his head snapped to the left.

Between the blackened trunks at the edge of an alley, something slid through the undergrowth, dragging shadow behind it. It happened in a fraction of a heartbeat – too fast for the eye to follow, gone before sight could truly register it.

In the blink of an eye, he disappeared, then materialized closer to the sound, leaning casually against the trunk of a massive pine. He crossed one leg over the other with his posture loose, almost as though he had all the time in existence.

Several paces ahead of him, a creature crouched low in the snow. Its form flickered, peeling away from itself in weak, uneven strands, and trembled as it desperately drew power inward, drawing desperately at the air. Each attempt drained what little strength it had left, and the space before it tore only briefly before snapping shut again with a hiss.

He was trying to open a failed portal. He was trying to escape.

Vaeron tilted his head slightly with an unreadable expression as he watched in silence for several seconds. But the memory of the wolf Princess still lingered at the back of his mind like a curse. He’d lived long enough being one, having adapted to the unbearable ones; however, the image of her seemed almost impossible to erase.

He could still picture the pain etched in her face, the terror by the way her body reacted against everything, and the relief in her eyes when they met his. Relief?

The thought of it oddly did something to a creature bound to remain neutral to human sensation like him, but he buried it the moment it came.

His eyes and attention focused on the creature before him once more. And then pleasantly, “Need help?”

His voice cut through the forest like ice on bones, worse than the chill of the weather.

At the mention, the creature seized abruptly. Its hand faltered mid-sigil and the magic collapsed into a spray of dying sparks. For a heartbeat, it didn’t move at all, as though its mind refused to accept what its senses told it.

The impossibility made him freeze like a statue until slowly and painfully, it turned, and its eyes widened.

Vaeron met its stare with cool, detached interest, and his lips curved faintly with something far worse than a smile. Something that shouldn’t have terrified a creature like it.

Vaeron regarded it with idle interest, and his head tilted slightly. “You’re leaking power,” he observed. “Sloppy. That kind of damage doesn’t mend itself with an energy weak enough to power a portal,”

The creature still locked eyes with him. It was cloaked from head to toe, hiding almost all parts of its body apart from the face. Its skin was a sick shade of pale green, marred with dark pulsing veins that weaved their way downwards with eyes pitch-black, covering the white part of them.

It was the same person who manipulated Lorcan’s face. And now, it stood in its true form, almost drained out of whatever kept it alive, and he could guess the source was within the portal he attempted create.

Vaeron’s lips curved faintly. He’d purposely let this one off the radar. When he destroyed the rest, it was quicker than others to deflect and shield, but slower to run before he found it.

As though it heard his thought, panic surged through the creature. Immediately it snarled, spun on its heel, and bolted into the trees, with magic flaring erratically behind it as it ran.

Vaeron clicked his tongue in sharp and brief irritation, “Ungrateful,” and he vanished.

The forest barely had time to breathe before he reappeared directly in front of the fleeing creature.

It skidded to a halt, claws tearing furrows through frozen earth as it recoiled, nearly falling backward. Vaeron stood inches from it now, perfectly composed, blocking its path as though he’d always been there.

“You really should learn that running only makes things more tedious for both of us,” Vaeron said mildly and clicked his tongue. “Mostly making this harder on yourself,”

The creature swayed, struggling to remain upright. Taking advantage, he closed the distance and crouched slightly to meet its eye level.

“Look at you,” he murmured. “Burned out already. Sent in first, weren’t you?” His cold eyes demanded answers he knew he wouldn’t get.

Its silence was answer enough.

Good, he thought. Time to try the merciful way.

Vaeron inhaled, and straightened again, “You won’t make it out like this,” he continued with a voice almost gentle like a Samaritan. “Your portal work is unstable. One wrong tear and you’ll scatter yourself across places that don’t remember names,” He let the threat linger deep enough for it to flinch. Then, almost kindly, “I can fix it,” he added.

As expected, the creature stiffened. For a fleeting moment, he caught the consideration buried within its suspicion, however, the latter was substantial to ameliorate that reference.

Vaeron’s eyes gleamed faintly in what could burn the forest to ashes, and continued, “I won’t ask questions,” he said. “I won’t pry into commands that aren’t yours to give. All I want is to see where you go. What a merciful creature, aren’t I?” he asked.

Still nothing.

Vaeron exhaled slowly. “You don’t trust me,” he mused. “Sensibly,”

In a split of a second, the creature moved, kneeling awkwardly in the snow. One arm trembled violently as it attempted to carve a portal into the air but the sigils collapsed as soon as they formed, unraveling with a hiss that left the creature shuddering.

Vaeron inhaled softly.

He raised a hand and, with careful precision, stabilized the creature’s faltering sigils – not opening the portal yet, only proving he could. The air snapped into obedient alignment beneath his control, strengthening the failing portal which as expected, bought the creature’s full attention as it stared.

“There,” Vaeron said softly, almost bored. “That’s the difference between us,” He lowered his hand, causing the sigils to collapse again. “You walk through when I allow it,” he continued with a tone pleasant but inhuman. “Or you stay here and unravel.”

The forest waited for an answer, but even as seconds turned into minutes, Vaeron knew what the response would be.

Finally, the creature’s resistance slackened in exhaustion.

Vaeron nodded once. “Good.”

With that, he opened the portal fully this time. Space folded clean and smooth, holding steady beneath his power as it unfurled with great energy.

He stepped aside, gesturing with a faint incline of his head. “Go.” He said. “Before I change my mind,”

The creature hesitated only a moment before it stepped through without glancing back, and the portal sealed and the forest exhaled with its presence gone. Snow descended from the sky, falling softly against the ground.

Vaeron remained where he was for a heartbeat longer than necessary. Even without a word or movement, his eyes refused to subdue in coldness, as the mask made him look even more terrifying.

Even worse than the varmint described in tomes.

Suddenly, the space folded again, placing the creature precisely where he had last stood as it swayed, trying to balance itself. Or perhaps, trying to understand where it was.

Vaeron looked ahead, his lips curving into a cold smile devoid of warmth or mercy as his eyes locked onto those confused ones. Then his voice rang out in the cold forest, unwelcoming and amused, “How was your trip?”

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