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Morning broke over the courtyard of the academy in pale washes of lavender and rose.

Lanterns faded and were extinguished one by one as the first birdsong pierced the crisp mountain air.

Tasha stood beneath the ancient oak where she and Mina had first tested her emerging air-light magic, dew still adhering to grass at her feet.

She closed her eyes and laid a hand upon the rough bark, murmuring a promise she felt in every throb of her newly fortified heart.

"I will come back with peace... or not ever."

At her back, the caravan roused to life. Horse packs were saddled, provision wagons loaded with food and talismans blessed by Frigg's envoy. Olivia approached, dark eyes proud but worried, carrying a small leather pouch wherein protective runes had been stitched.

"Take this," Olivia said to Tasha, pushing it into her hand. "A mother's blessing. Let it keep you safe when I am not there."

Tasha hugged her, drawing in tears on her cheek. "I'll come back safely. I swear."

Mina's father, hunched in his frayed coat, pushed a silver-filigreed necklace into the hand of his daughter. "For you," he said. "A token from a wolf. Keep it with you—your wolf heart will guide you."

Mina smiled and accepted it, threading it around her neck. Tasha saw her friend's determined face and drew strength from Mina's unshakeable resolve.

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Dawn Departure

At first light, the assembled pack—warriors, skilled students, allied witches, and Kylorn wolf scouts—had drawn up in a line a bow-shot long flowing out of the courtyard gates.

At their head rode Blackwood on a massive black stallion, Tasha on her white mare beside him, the pieces of the Eclipse blade buckled at her hip.

Behind them, Cass commanded an armored company of lycans and telekinetic warriors.

Cass raised a gauntleted fist. "Be warned! Damon's influence still casts treacherous shadows. Our path takes us across the passes of the Grey Mountain—be wary of Shadowbound Court scouts."

A cry burst from the riders and footmen. The pack rode out beneath a dawn-scrawled sky, banners whipping in the chill wind.

?

First Leg of the Journey

The winding road through the Grey narrowed as the mountains rose like silent guards. Cass led the way, senses in overdrive. Every clattering rock and distant bird call might signal an ambush.

Mina sat next to him, nursing an injured courier whose leg had a torn cut from an ambush battle with shadow-spawn scouts the night before. Her healing aura was all around them as she set the courier's leg, gently chanting, never looking away from Cass's face.

"They pack a punch," she whispered. "Two of our scouts.".

Cass tightened his jaw. "They test our defenses. We'll retaliate—not with vengeance, but by cutting their supply lines."

Forward, the passes crackled with the initial collision.

Ghosts issuing from darkness—half-realized spirits in dented armor—stole forward from rock projections.

Cass shouted the charge. Metal crashed on spiritual sword; Rylan changed to wolf howl, fangs glinting.

Tasha leapt down off horseback, shreds of blade aglow, blending wind and shattered light to throw a blinding flash that repelled the specters.

Subsequently, Mina knelt by the fallen, mending where she could. Each life she saved brought the pack tighter together. Cass watched Tasha's refined skill at the pieces of the blade—small victories in battle that proved the new magic worked.

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Caravan of Allies

By mid-morning, the caravan crested a spindly ridge and halted on a hidden plateau where allied witches and Kylorn wolves—toughened lycans bred in the high passes—gathered.

Witch-rider wives garbed in midnight veils bowed respectfully to Blackwood; padded Kylorn scouts approached, noses aloft, sniffing out lingering corruption.

Their senior wolf, Thorne, growled, "We stand with you, Alpha. The mountains remind us of the ancient compacts."

Blackwood swooped, wrapping his arms around Thorne's massive forepaw. "Your loyalty does us honor. We fight together to reclaim Nocturnis."

Mina watched the gathering, her heart brimming with hope. Alliances that had been rent apart now held strong together. Cass caught her eye and nodded; she smiled back, weary but triumphant.

?

Night Vigil lycans charged fang and claw. Tasha clung to shards of her sword, shaping them into a storm out of wind and broken light, sending combatants stumbling back.

Cass rode with her, shield raised, as a kylorn wolf warrior, Fenric, dispatched a foe. Combat was fierce—steel struck steel, spells burst in rages of violet and silver.

Suddenly, a terror-filled scream split the air: Fenric yelped and reeled back, his paws clutched around his throat.

The warrior that he slew disintegrated into dust, but more sinister magic held.

Fenric rolled his eyes back; his muzzle foamed as an all-too-welcome sigil glowed on his neck—the twin-serpents of Damon's hex.

Cass and Tasha rushed to him. Fenric fell to his knees, fur bristling as darkness seeped beneath his skin. His voice—Fenric's voice, but not—issued from trembling lips:

"The cycle begins anew..."

And then his body relaxed, the curse complete.

?

At the dawn's pale light creasing the mountains, the pack returned to the dead comrades. Fenric lay unmoving, wards crackling feebly around him. The surviving soldiers scattered into the forest, leaving a lone crooked standard behind.

Blackwood's jaw clenched. "He's got himself a new host," he growled. "He'll be worse.".

Tasha knelt down next to Fenric and placed her hand on his shoulder, wind rushing to drive away the darkness. Her face was resolute. "Then we will break him again. And we will break this cycle—once and for all."

Cass stood at her side, voice resolute. "To Nocturnis we go. With every step, we'll reclaim our legacy."

Mina closed Frigg's diary and shoved it into her satchel. "And light and darkness together shall stroll as one.