As Fionnuala looked at her husband, time seemed to slow down. The wolf lunged at her, its jaws wide open as if to swallow her whole, its paws stretched out to cleave her into pieces. Onchu's body lay lifeless on the ground, his eyes closed, his face relaxed as if he was finally at peace. At the edge of the entrance, Brian lay face down, his back rising and falling with faint, labored breaths that would soon be snuffed out. Conn's lifeless body was by the trees laying on this back on the ground his eyes wide open was bloodshot with dried blood on this eyes, ears and mouth.

Her husband stood a distance away, his face a portrait of fear, worry, anxiety, and desperation. His eyes reflected the pain of what was happening, the thought of losing her tearing at his heart. The spell she had weaved, the long red katana with a darker green hue, flickered in her hand, becoming unstable, threatening to spiral out of control.

The stars in the sky shone brighter than ever, a river of shimmering lights across the darkness. The full moon reflected in her husband's eyes, replacing his iris and pupil with its mesmerizing glow. It was a moment of ethereal beauty, a stark contrast to the chaos around them.

As the wolf closed in, Fionnuala felt a surge of determination. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with the gravity of the situation. She had to protect them, had to see this through. The spell wavered in her hand, and she tightened her grip, channeling every ounce of her will into stabilizing it. The wolf's foul breath washed over her as it snapped its jaws, but she was ready.

With a fierce cry, Fionnuala thrust the katana forward, the blade piercing the wolf's chest. The beast howled in agony, its eyes burning with hatred and pain. It swung its massive paw at her in a final, desperate attempt to cleave her apart. But as its claws passed through her, they met no resistance. Instead, they cut through her shadow, slicing it into four pieces.

For a moment, everything was still. The wolf staggered back, its body starting to disintegrate into ashes. The immediate surroundings began to turn to ashes as well, the trees, the ground, everything touched by the wolf's presence. Fionnuala looked down at her hand, seeing it too begin to turn to ash, the transformation slowly spreading up her arm.

Her husband, seeing her condition, ran towards her, his face a mask of horror and grief. "Fionna!" he cried, his voice breaking with emotion. He reached her just as the ash spread to her shoulder, pulling her into his arms. Tears streamed down his face, falling onto her ash-covered body.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and sorrow. "My fire," she whispered, using her pet name for him. "Never let your fire burn out. Let it shine, and let the world see you as I did."

He held her tightly, his tears falling onto her ashen form, mingling with the dust. "I can't do this without you," he choked out, his voice raw with pain.

"You can," she said softly, her voice growing weaker. "You must. For our tribe, for our daughter. Promise me."

"I promise," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I promise, Fionna."

She smiled, a look of peace settling over her face. "I love you," she said, her voice barely audible.

"I love you too," he replied, his voice breaking. "Always."

With a final, soft breath, Fionnuala closed her eyes. Her body continued to turn to ash, crumbling away in his arms. He held her until there was nothing left but a pile of ashes, his tears falling onto the ground where she had been, leaving only the four small shadows of hers.

The camp was silent, the stars above twinkling in the night sky. The smoke from the burning forest had cleared, leaving a clear, star-filled sky. The moon shone down, casting a gentle light on the scene below.

Finni run toward Onchu with all the guard, he started to check for signs, but he found none, Onchu was dead. Tears started to fall on the body of Onchu, Finni was trembling as he cried, many thoughts coming to his mind to say to his friend but the only thing he said was, "you have done well, my friend. May the gods light shine on you."

He looked up to see the bodies of Brian by the entrance of the den, Conn's by the trees and a pair of legs a short distance away from Brian.

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"Three of you carry his body back to the village," the then pointed to the others, "Three of check on Conn," he pointed to another three guards and said, "you check on Brian," he then pointed to the remaining one guard and told him, "take the legs with Onchu's body," the guard went, picked up the legs and started to follow the first three guards back to the village.

"He's dead," one of the guard's that went to Conn.

"Take him back to the village," his tears increasing in volume.

"He's alive," he heard one of the guard's say that went to Brian. He looked up towards them with his tears still falling, but with a faint smile on this face.

He rushed to Brian and saw the wound on the edge of his chest that had black veins spreading but now that has stopped but the black veins were not gone.

"Quickly take him to the herbalist. Give him priority. I'll return with the chief," then he went to where the chief was kneeling.

Talon's heart ached with the weight of his loss, but he felt a flicker of warmth in his chest. It was her fire, the one she had told him to keep burning. He would honor her memory, he would let his light shine. He would lead their tribe with the strength and determination she had shown in her final moments.

As he stood up, the ashes at his feet swirled in the breeze, a reminder of the sacrifice she had made. He looked up at the sky, the stars shining brightly above, and took a deep breath. He would carry on, for her, for their tribe, for their future. He would make sure her sacrifice was not in vain, that her light would continue to guide them all.

Finni knelt beside him and started to gather the ashes of Fionnuala. Chief Talon saw what he was doing, knelt and started to gather with him and put it into a jug made of an animal skin.

The four pieces of shadows she left behind scattered to the four direction a swift motion when they finished gathering her ashes and stood up. Chief Talon and Finni saw the shadow's move but they was preoccupied to notice or take any action.

*****

Aileen reached the scout's camp just as the sun was setting, its red blaze casting long shadows across the land. The sky was a deep crimson, tinted further by the thick smoke rising from the forest. Ashes floated gently down, covering the ground in a thin, grey blanket. Some of the ashes settled on her silver fur and her blue silk robe, which fell gracefully to her knees. The robe had a high collar that protected her neck, and the tight black cuffs around her arms added an air of elegance and restraint to her appearance.

In front of her loomed a wooden wall, its sharp-tipped stakes and protruding spikes a testament to the camp's defensive measures. Aileen paused, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, a mixture of anxiety and determination. With a firm resolve, she pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside.

The camp was bustling with activity, scouts moving swiftly and purposefully, their faces grim and focused. The air was thick with tension, the atmosphere charged with an unspoken urgency. Aileen's keen eyes scanned the area, taking in the details. Tents were pitched in neat rows, their flaps fluttering in the breeze. Campfires crackled here and there, their orange flames a stark contrast to the red sky above. The scent of burning wood and cooked meat mingled with the acrid smell of smoke, creating a heady mixture that filled her nostrils.

As she walked deeper into the camp, Aileen noticed the scouts were armed and alert, their hands never straying far from their weapons. The gravity of the situation was evident in their expressions; the recent attacks had put everyone on edge. Her own heart ached for the fallen and the injured, for the uncertainty that loomed over them all. She quickened her pace, her mind racing with thoughts of how she could help, what she could do to make a difference.

Aileen's arrival did not go unnoticed. Several scouts glanced her way, their eyes widening slightly in recognition and respect. Whispers followed in her wake, the Luminary of the Tribe had come. Despite her youth, Aileen's prowess with the Astral Essence was well-known, and her presence alone was a beacon of hope for many of the younger generation. She met their gazes with a calm, reassuring smile, nodding slightly to acknowledge their unspoken support.

However, she could also feel the weight of the older generation's uncertain eyes on her. Their gazes were heavier, laden with unresolved emotions. They didn't know how to treat her, still grappling with their feelings about the death of the chief's wife, her mother. Some saw her as a reminder of their loss, and their expressions were a mix of respect and blame. The whispers among them were different, tinged with hesitation and ambiguity.

As she walked through the camp, she could hear snippets of conversations. "Should we trust her?" one elder muttered. "It's hard to forget what happened," another whispered. Aileen's ears twitched at these comments, but she kept her head held high, her resolve unwavering. She had a duty to fulfill, and she would not let their doubts deter her.

She made her way to the central tent, where the camp's leaders were likely gathered. The tent was larger and more elaborately decorated than the others, its entrance flanked by two guards who straightened at her approach. They nodded respectfully, allowing her to pass without question. Inside, the air was filled with the low murmur of voices, a mix of worry and strategy.

Aileen stepped into the tent, the conversations halting momentarily as all eyes turned to her. She felt the weight of their scrutiny, but she stood tall, her expression composed and resolute. The scouts inside were gathered around a large table, maps and plans spread out before them. The tension in the room was palpable.