Morning came slow and golden, light drifting lazily through the trees. The fire was little more than warm ash, and dew clung to the grass like a whispered secret.
Axel was the first to rise, careful not to wake Kyra, still curled beside him. He gently eased out from under her and stood, stretching his shoulders with a soft hiss as the suit responded.
Sylthea stirred next, brushing moss from her hair with a groggy sigh. "We alive?"
"For now," Axel replied.
Korrak yawned loud enough to scare a bird out of the trees, then rolled onto his back. "Why do leaves always find the weirdest places to stick?"
Brakka rose in silence, her blade already slung across her back before anyone could blink. She stomped out the last embers of the fire, grinding them into the dirt.
One by one, the camp dissolved.
Bags packed. Leaf-beds scattered. The scent of morning heavy with pine and old fire.
The group hit the road once more, following the brook's path toward the east. Birds called overhead. Branches creaked gently in the wind.
By midday, the forest opened into a vast glade, where towering trees twisted upward like living spires and vines hung like natural curtains. At the heart of it all stood a village nestled in the roots and trunks of ancient trees, living homes built into bark and bough.
Druids.
The moment they stepped into view, a group of villagers stopped what they were doing and stared.
Then a cheer broke out.
"The Black Wolf!"
"Monster protector!"
"Praise the forest, he's real!"
Axel blinked.
Kyra tilted her head. "They… like us?"
Druids of all shapes and ages ran to greet them, flower-crowned elders, vine-robed warriors, children with glowing root-staffs. But it was the group of teenagers that made the biggest scene.
"Black Wolf!" one boy shouted, barely older than sixteen. "You've got a name now!"
"A what?"
"A group name! Like in the old tales!"
The teens stood in a line, beaming with pride. "They call you all The White Halo! The light that rises in answer to the Black Halo!"
Axel's brow furrowed. "That's…"
But the teen pointed excitedly. "You're the Black Wolf, right? So you're the leader!"
He turned to Brakka next. "And she's the Green Wolf. Your wife."
Brakka blinked. "What."
Sylthea exploded with laughter, nearly bending over.
Even Korrak snorted. "Green Wolf?!"
"We're not married," Brakka said flatly.
Axel's ears were red through his hair. "I... No, we're not...!"
But the teens continued, unfazed. "Then the little one must be the Wolf Pup!"
They all pointed at Kyra.
"The daughter of the Black and Green Wolf!"
Sylthea fell over.
Actually fell.
Korrak tried not to laugh, but his face twisted like he'd swallowed a joke sideways.
"I'm not even the same species as Brakka!" Kyra shouted, cheeks puffed, arms flailing.
Brakka crossed her arms and smirked. "You should listen to your mother more, Kyra."
Axel, without missing a beat. "Yes. Listen to your mother, Kyra."
"I'M GONNA SCREAM!!" Kyra shrieked.
The druids found this whole exchange delightful.
"But that's not all," the teen leader said. "The Noble Witch and her protector... the Troll Knight!"
He pointed to Sylthea and Korrak proudly.
Sylthea raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Noble Witch, huh? Not bad."
Korrak puffed his chest. "Troll Knight… I like it."
Sylthea turned to him with mock regality. "Then I, the Noble Witch, declare... from now on, you shall remain by my side, wherever our path takes us."
Korrak dropped to one knee, grinning. "Then I, the Troll Knight, swear to never leave your side, Your Majesty."
They shared a dramatic look.
A moment passed.
Then...
"Wait," Kyra asked, wide-eyed. "Did you guys just get married?"
Both Sylthea and Korrak froze mid-pose.
Their faces turned red in perfect sync.
Sylthea said nervously. "W-We were joking!"
Korrak spoke while standing up awkwardly and rubbing the back of his neck. "Y-Yeah! Totally a joke!"
Axel, Brakka, and Kyra burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the druid village like a bell.
Even the trees seemed to lean in with amusement.
The villagers laughed with them, and for a moment, it felt like the war and the blood and the fire of their lives had been left behind in the forest.
For a moment, they were just people.
Just a strange, broken, beautiful little pack.
The White Halo.
A few minutes later...
The village pulsed with gentle energy.
Thick tree roots formed bridges and stairways that twisted through the canopy above. Soft lights glowed in bowls of water or danced across bark-etched symbols. Music drifted in the air, natural, subtle, as if the wind itself played it. Everywhere they looked, druids were moving with quiet grace, drawing sigils in the air, whispering chants, or placing hands on trees that responded by blooming fresh flowers in an instant.
Axel walked through it all slowly, holding Kyra's small hand in his armoured gloved one.
Brakka walked beside them, arms crossed, eyes always scanning. Korrak strolled with a relaxed air, greeting curious onlookers with a nod or grin. Sylthea moved like she belonged here, fingers trailing over vines and glowing moss, soaking in the raw power humming beneath their feet.
Children ran ahead, giggling as they used long sticks to draw glowing patterns into the dirt. One line, then another, then a circle. The pattern flared golden and a branch nearby blossomed fruit.
Axel blinked. "They're using magic?"
Sylthea shook her head with a smirk. "Not quite. Druids don't use magic. Not like I do. They use rituals. Ancient symbols, passed down through generations. They draw them physically, on trees, the earth, even their skin. It mimics magic, sometimes even surpasses it in raw power."
"Looks the same to me," Axel muttered, watching a girl sketch a spiral on a leaf that made it glow and float.
"It's much more dangerous," Sylthea warned. "Rituals don't just tap into natural energy. They call on forces, higher or lower. Angels for light rituals. Demons for dark. You mess up a line, speak a name wrong, or reach for too much, and those forces... reach back."
Kyra's eyes widened. "So they're using angel power?"
"Mostly," Sylthea nodded. "Light rituals are cleaner, safer. Still dangerous, but less likely to twist you into something unrecognizable."
Axel frowned. "I always thought druids were witches."
The entire group stopped.
Even nearby druids went silent.
A bucket fell over somewhere in the distance.
Sylthea's face twisted in horror. "Excuse me?"
The old man sweeping beside them paused mid-motion.
Korrak whistled low. "That was bold."
Brakka gave him a sideways glare. "You trying to start another war?"
Axel blinked, genuinely confused. "What? I just meant..."
Sylthea cut him off, scandalized. "Druids and witches are completely different races, you tree-blind fool! That's like calling a troll an orc or a human an elf!"
Even the trees rustled uncomfortably.
"I… didn't know," Axel said, looking down.
But something on his chest caught his eye.
Carved deep into the chestplate of the Black Wolf suit, twisting lines and jagged spirals forming a symbol that pulsed faintly beneath the plating.
"Can witches use rituals?" he asked suddenly, still staring.
Sylthea took a breath, recovering her composure. "Anyone can. Even humans. But witches don't need them. We use runes. Magic. Rituals are more… primal. Riskier. We avoid them unless we're desperate."
"So…" Axel touched the symbol lightly. "This isn't a rune then?"
Sylthea leaned closer, eyes narrowing.
"No. That's a dark ritual symbol. One designed for creation. That's what the book said."
"Of course it is," Axel deadpanned.
But as they stood there, an elderly druid woman walked by, stooped with age, flowers braided into her silver hair. She paused, squinting at the symbol on Axel's chest.
Then frowned.
"No, dear," she said kindly. "That's not a creation ritual at all."
Sylthea blinked. "What?"
The old woman turned to her, eyes twinkling. "Your book lied to you, child. Most books with dark rituals in them do. That's how they trick you."
Axel's expression didn't change, but Sylthea paled. "Then what is it?"
The old woman pointed with a bony finger. "That is a summoning and binding ritual. Demonic in nature. And old. Very, very old."
She peered at it thoughtfully. "By the depth of the carving and the residue of energy… I'd wager a powerful demon was not just summoned, but anchored to that suit. Possibly even fused with it."
Sylthea's mouth opened. Then closed.
Korrak looked at Axel's calm nature. "You knew?"
Axel was quiet for a moment. Then nodded. "I've… spoken with it. With Black Wolf and kinda figured it out."
Kyra gripped his arm tighter. "Is he dangerous?"
"He was," Axel said softly. "Maybe still is. But he said he'd protect you. That's enough for now."
The old woman nodded solemnly. "Then you walk a dangerous path, Black Wolf. But perhaps… not a doomed one."
Then she walked on, humming to herself.
The group stood in silence, the weight of the revelation settling like fog.
Brakka crossed her arms. "Well. I shouldn't be surprised after what Black Wolf did to the witch."
Sylthea muttered, "I need to recheck every book in me and my father's collection when I return..."
Kyra looked up at Axel, then gently placed her hand over the symbol. "Don't worry. We're still your pack."
Axel looked at her. Then at the others.
Korrak nodded, still grinning despite the tension.
Brakka gave a low grunt that somehow still meant support.
Sylthea just sighed, muttering something about cursed boys and demon-suits.
And Axel, for the first time that day, let out a small breath.
"Thanks."
The symbol pulsed quietly under his chest.
And somewhere deep inside the suit, the Black Wolf watched.
Still silent.
Still bound.
But not alone.