Bjorn’s first thought was just to lead Freja south, away from the forest and its looming dangers. His instincts told him this was the safest route, but each time he tried to guide her in that direction, she stopped him, pulling gently but firmly on his tail to get his attention. They had been following the rock face for a little while and she had caught on to his plan.

“No,” she said, her voice steady but with an edge of tension. “We can’t go that way, baby.”

The open cliffs to the south meant avoiding the dense shadows of the forest, where the wolves lurked unseen. It was undoubtedly the safest path then they could curve around the forest and avoid the wolves and whatever that other creature was that was lurking around the village far off in the grassland. Bjorn squawked in protest wishing he could just explain his plan.

Freja sighed. “If we go south we’ll be heading straight back into Salstar territory. It isn’t a simple thing for me to do that anymore. It would violate the Shaigaunt. If I go back, my family will have me killed. And trust me when I say they will know if I enter.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Bjorn hesitated. He knew how serious her tone was—this wasn’t just about avoiding the wolves anymore. The Salstar domain held even graver threats, ones that could not be outrun or fought off. Bjorn looked at the path to obvious freedom and hissed discontentedly. Bjorn’s gut twisted. They were stuck between two dangerous paths: wolves to the north, death to the south.

Bjorn let out a low growl of frustration but turned away from the southern cliffs, conceding to her wishes. Hopefully he could protect her from the wolves and with her floating rocks if she hit one she could do some real damage. He couldn’t protect her from her own family’s wrath, not in their own territory. Especially if they had dragons like Thrand. They would head through the forest.

As they trudged forward, Bjorn was meticulous in his vigilance. Every step they took closer to the wolves' territory gnawed at him, and he sharpened his senses to their peak. His tongue flicked, tasting the air for any unfamiliar magics as his eyes darted around. The canopy overhead thickened, casting deeper shadows across their path, which was fine for him since he was able to see in the dark.

The same could not be said for Freja, as the forest became denser, its underbrush transitioned into a tangled mess of roots and brambles that seemed intent on tripping her at every opportunity. The low light meant she had to rely on Bjorn’s tail which she held onto as a steadying guide. She muttered under her breath when her legs caught on thorny vines. She only had her school uniform skirts which offered barely any protection for her skin. She was determined, and despite her discomfort, she didn’t complain. Not aloud, anyway.

Bjorn’s thoughts drifted as they moved. Before he had relied on his compass-like connection with Freja while she was immobile in the cave. Without that the forest felt endless, every direction melding into the same dark, shadowy labyrinth. His tongue flicked in the air, searching for the scent of water. To give him a better indication of their direction. The swamp should offer them some refuge, and if they were lucky, they could avoid the wolves altogether.

“Can you tell where we are?” Bjorn asked mentally.

“Kind of, but there isn’t much in the way of landmarks,” Failsafe stated. “Maybe that’s a future design for our system, a mental map or something. Oh, no, that would require divination magic… or would it? Remind me to come back to this subject later.”

“Yeah, definitely that sounds incredibly useful,” Bjorn replied.

“Let’s see.” Failsafe said ponderously. “Go left, I am pretty sure that is the direction you said you wanted to take her to avoid the plant monster thing.”

He stopped, causing Freja to nearly run into him. She knelt down beside him when she noticed he was looking around furiously. He heard something nearby and tasted something unfamiliar in the air but it wasn’t the wolves magic. He prepared himself to use his poison scratch. Then a fox appeared from behind a tree a few feet ahead of them. It looked just as surprised to see them as they were to see it. It quickly turned tail and ran away.

Bjorn let out a long hiss from a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looked at Freja she had a hand on her heart as she calmed herself down. Then she chuckled softly to herself and petted Bjorn as she stood back up.

“Let’s keep going, baby.” Freja said.

***

They pressed forward, the trail deceptively serene, like a gentle stroll through an untouched forest. Bjorn knew better. Freja, however, seemed to be loosening up, her earlier tension easing with every step. He couldn’t blame her—staying on edge was exhausting, and she didn’t have the same reasons to fear this place as he did. She’d seen the wolves, yes, but not the nature monster or the horrors it had wrought upon that village. Deep down, he hoped she never would.

The air grew tense, almost hard to breathe, when Bjorn noticed there were no birds chirping or scents of other animals nearby. That’s when he saw a large silver wolf observing him in the distance. There was no scent, no trace of magic, no sound accompanying the beast. It was simply out of his range and watching him from downwind.

Bjorn hissed, which caused Freja to look around for any sign of danger. She didn’t seem to see anything in the brush, but she probably wouldn’t until it was too late. Bjorn started walking and she followed closely behind, still holding on to his tail. He slowly picked up speed and she had to circulate her mana throughout her muscles to keep up.

He steadily picked up speed until he felt Freja couldn’t keep up. However, the faster he ran the more mana he could taste her pushing into her muscles. She was strengthening herself which he remembered her doing before in order to carry him through the academy. He didn’t know how fast she could go and considered slowing a bit so she could keep up.

“Bjorn, don’t worry I can keep up just fine,” Freja said almost as if she could read in mind.

Bjorn obliged and increased his speed considerably. He was surprised at Freja’s speed and reflexes; she navigated the forest side by side with him like she was a professional nature survivalist. Bjorn had to focus on the taste of water in the air. They were still very far off, at least thirty minutes away. That’s when he tasted shadow wolf magic, dangerously close.

“Bjorn, ahead of us!” Failsafe yelled.

Bjorn saw the wolf waiting in ambush right as Failsafe alerted him. The fur of the creature blended it into shadows near-flawlessly. He had mere moments to react and no time to alert Freja. He had to act and do it quickly. Time seemed to slow as he saw the beast lunge forward, not at him but towards Freja. Bjorn jumped into the air, catching a tree trunk and jumping off, changing his trajectory in an instant.

Blood and pain erupted as Bjorn crashed into the wolf nearly twice his size. The jaws of the wolf only missed Freja’s neck by inches. The creature was caught completely off guard, but its instincts were sharp. It snapped and clawed as Bjorn wrapped his body around the wolf and they fell to the ground. Bjorn bit the creature over and over, but his venom wasn’t instant. Freja directed one of the twenty pound stones onto the wolf's head, which popped like a watermelon under a hammer. In her haste she forgot to let go of the stone with the Wind Hand, causing it to disperse.

“Bjorn, are you okay?” Freja asked as she picked the dead wolf off of him so he could crawl out.

Bjorn squawked as Freja frantically resummoned the wind hand and picked up the now bloody stone. As soon as she was done Bjorn started running again, Freja right behind him. The fight had been short but he hadn’t gotten out unscathed. He had several lacerations along his body, but adrenaline and his healing factor kept him moving. He knew that the most important thing to do now was to keep going.

The shadow wolf magic was everywhere now, and the steel wolf was drawing closer. Bjorn knew the steel wolf was also a familiar thanks to Freja, and it seemed to have some intelligence in its organization of the other wolves. That surprise attack was meant to kill Freja, who between the two would be a bigger threat given she was a magic caster. Bjorn also believed that might be the reason it was staying back and corralling them towards something.

“Shit-shit, Bjorn, ahead of us!” Freja exclaimed.

Two more wolves were waiting ahead of them, not even using their magic to conceal themselves. They didn’t get any closer, instead standing there growling and baring their teeth. They were there to stop them from running towards the water, and with the steel wolf now charging towards them they had no choice but to turn and go deeper into the wolves’ territory.

“They’re leading us somewhere,” Failsafe stated.

“Yes-yes, I know,” Bjorn responded.

“Well what are we going to do once we get there?” Failsafe asked.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Poison puff,” Bjorn stated. “We get Freja to climb up a tree or something out of the reach of theー”

Searing pain was all the familiar felt as he was lifted into the air. Everything went silent for a second as in the next second he picked himself off the ground. Blood escaped him in pools as he struggled to understand what just happened. He looked around to take stock of the situation and saw the steel wolf standing over him. It jumped back as a rock flew by, narrowly missing it.

It had caught up to them and bit down on Bjorn’s body, lifting him in the air before getting hit in the side by one of Freja’s stones. She just saved his life but he was no longer in a condition to run. Freja rushed to him, spinning the stones around herself in a fast orbit to dissuade any sudden attacks. The entire remaining pack was now standing in an angry growling semicircle around the pair. Freja was saying something, but Bjorn couldn’t hear anything.

It was now or never, and with some struggle he managed to stand. Freja tried to stop him but he whipped at her with his long tail to keep her back. Bjorn snarled, his body aching and bleeding, but he refused to back down. He could feel the wolves closing in, their teeth glinting in the dim light, their growls vibrating through the ground beneath him. His claws scraped against the dirt as he steadied himself, drawing on the last reserves of his strength. He wasn’t going down—not without taking them with him.

This time he knew what to do. He felt his core tremble as he pulled more magic from it than he ever had in his short life, forcing it up his throat. The raw power burned as it surged into his mouth, pooling and bubbling like molten venom. His jaws clenched against the pressure, his teeth vibrating from the strain. Then, with a deep, guttural roar, he opened his mouth wide and unleashed it.

A torrent of sickly green mist exploded outward, darker and denser than before. The air crackled with energy as the mist churned violently, a thundercloud of poison given form. Its sickly-sweet scent was deceptive, masking its deadly intent as it rolled forward like a tidal wave. Bjorn exhaled with all his might, the mist pouring out in an unrelenting surge that painted the forest floor in shades of toxic shadow.

The wolves hesitated, their instincts screaming at them to flee, but it was too late. The mist engulfed them, clinging to fur and flesh like a living creature. The nearest wolf, mid-lunge, yelped as the mist touched its muzzle, its attack faltering as it crumpled to the ground. Others staggered, choking and coughing, their bodies writhing as the mist seeped into their lungs.

Bjorn’s eyes burned with determination as he kept pouring his energy into the attack, the mist spreading wider and deeper. He would give this attack his all, to kill his enemies and not flow backwards into Freja. Soon the forest ahead of him was awash with poison so thick it looked like a thunderstorm had touched down. Bjorn spent all of his energy, body trembling.

Only then did he see it, the jaws of the massive steel wolf. The wolf’s teeth sank into his neck, a searing flash of pain exploding through his body. It was over in a heartbeat. Pain gave way to numbness, and then, nothing.

Silence. Darkness. Death.

***

Freja was frozen in fear for only a moment mid stride when the steel wolf bore down on Bjorn, its massive jaws biting onto his back and sides. Her familiar’s scales were no match for the ferocity of the massive wolf. Then she spun around, her nails digging into the dirt to stop her momentum. She dropped her alchemy case. Her hesitation shattered, replaced by a fury that drowned out everything else—the pack closing in, the danger surrounding her, the fear creeping into her mind. None of it mattered. Her eyes locked onto Bjorn, her Bjorn, helpless in the jaws of the monstrous druid familiar.

As soon as she was in range, one of the wind hands flung forward with all of the speed she could muster. It smashed into the steel wolf’s head with a deafening crash. The rock shattered on impact, pieces exploding outward like shrapnel. Steel wolves were tough, pretty obvious given the name, but their ability was to harden themselves against kinetic attacks. The wolf was more surprised than injured as it dropped Bjorn and backed off before the second stone could land.

Luckily this time she’d remembered to have the hands let go right before impact and didn’t have to resummon them. She ran to Bjorn, using the wind hands to orbit her in a makeshift shield to keep the wolves at bay. Bjorn was bleeding heavily; his sides were a wreck of torn flesh and even exposed ribs.

“Bjorn, baby, you're going to be okay,” Freja said, trying to keep her voice calm. “We’re going to get out of here.”

As she got closer Bjorn started to whip at her with his tail to keep her away. He struggled to stand as he faced the steel wolf and its pack. Nine of them in all. Freja wanted to believe that they could get out of this alive and that someone would save them. That her surviving the troll meant something, that her life meant something, that Bjorn’s trust in her meant something.

She couldn’t see a way out of this situation. Sure, Bjorn had killed the troll, but that was one monster, one stupid lumbering thing. The druid’s familiar wasn’t dumb, it had some intelligence and was well trained. It was fast and had a pack at its disposal. She looked down at her familiar as he continued to walk closer to the semicircle of wolves.

She realized she didn’t need anyone to save them; she had Bjorn and that was all she needed. She felt like she could trust whatever he was planning. That’s when she felt a swell of magic erupted in front of her. A thundercloud crackling with more magical power than she had seen come from such a young creature billowed forth.

“What the fuck?” Freja exclaimed as the display caused her to fall backwards onto her butt.

The wolves recoiled, their snarls turning to panicked yelps as the mist engulfed them. One by one, they fell, their bodies twitching and writhing, desperate to escape the toxic cloud. Freja watched in stunned silence, her hand covering her mouth. The scene was unreal, the wolves dropping like flies in the suffocating fog. She didn’t need to get closer to understand. The mist reeked of death, its sickly-sweet scent hiding a lethal venom. It was poison, pure and deadly, and she knew better than to breathe it in.

Bjorn stood there triumphant but horribly injured. Freja wasted no time crawling over to him; she needed to stay low to keep from breathing in the toxic cloud as it curled in the air. Then seemingly from nowhere the steel wolf emerged from the cloud. Too close to Bjorn for him to evade and too far for her to hit with another stone. In a moment that seemed to last forever she watched angry jaws come down on Bjorn’s neck. Blood and viscera escaped as his body came loose from his neck. Bjorn’s body, lifeless and mangled, was flung backward like a broken doll, slamming into Freja and driving her into the dirt. The impact knocked the air from her lungs.

Her breath came in shallow gasps as the world lost color and collapsed. Sound faded and all she could hear was the deafening thunder of her own heartbeat threatening to burst her eardrums. She looked down, trembling, at the bloodied mass in her arms. Blue scales. A familiar, slender shape. But this wasn’t her Bjorn. It couldn’t be. Not like this.

Freja clutched Bjorn’s limp body to her chest, her hands slick with his blood, her screams breaking the suffocating silence before she even realized she was making them. Tears streaked her dirt-smeared face, her anguish twisting into a furious snarl as her gaze locked onto the steel wolf. It was all that remained of its pack, but it didn’t need them. It stood tall, the alpha, ready to finish her off.

Freja stood and backed up holding on to Bjorn’s body like she needed it to breathe. The wolf took a step forward and stumbled. blood streaming from its eyes, nose, and mouth. It retched violently, its body convulsing uncontrollably under the effects of the venom. All she needed to do was outlast it and she would outlast it. She would make sure this fucking dog died if it was the last thing she would going to do.

The wolf lunged, and she threw herself to the ground, narrowly avoiding its jaws. The beast crashed into a tree with a sickening crack but recovered quickly, its glowing eyes locked onto her again. Freja scrambled to her feet and ran, the forest around her a shadowy labyrinth under the thick canopy. Without Bjorn to guide her, the darkness pressed in, making it hard to see.

She stumbled just as the wolf’s jaws snapped shut inches above her head, its teeth slicing through the air where she had been moments before. The wolf staggered, too dazed to pounce immediately. Freja seized the brief advantage, darting in another direction, her heart pounding like a war drum.

She pumped mana into her body and increased her speed in hopes she could give herself some distance. For whatever reason the stray thought of the odd mental projection magic popped into her mind. She didn’t know why she was thinking about it at that moment.

----------------------------------------

Mana Muscle Saturation

Magic cost: 1

Push your mana into your muscles and bones to temporarily increase your physical attributes.

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Freja had never considered Mana Muscle Saturation a “spell”—it was a natural ability for her people, one that Julie and Mat had marveled at. Yet her chaotic magic core had always held her back, limiting her strength compared to others of her kind. Her magic would only allow her physicality to increase by a small margin. All of that had changed thanks to Bjorn and the familiar contract.

As the refined mana coursed through her, her senses sharpened to an extraordinary degree. The darkness of the forest dissolved into clarity. She heard the faint pattering of paws behind her—the wolf was gaining. Trusting her heightened instincts, she waited until the last possible second to veer sharply to the right, the earth crunching beneath her feet as she narrowly avoided the wolf’s claws. Behind her, the beast crashed into another tree with a furious snarl, unable to turn as quickly as she could. Freja didn’t look back. She ran with every ounce of strength she had, the minutes stretching into what felt like hours.

Then the forest thinned, and a new stench hit her nose—a sickening mix of decay and rot. She nearly gagged but had no choice but to keep moving. Diving through a bush, she rolled just as the wolf lunged overhead, its snapping jaws missing her by inches. When she stopped, she froze. She was surrounded by the bloated, rotting remains of a herd of cattle. The sight was grotesque, their hollow eyes staring blankly into nothingness. Why were they here, in the middle of the forest?

The wolf’s snarl snapped her out of her daze. She scrambled to her feet as it closed the distance, her legs trembling with exhaustion. Then she saw it—a structure, no, multiple structures rising like a mirage in the dense woods. A village? A safe haven? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t going to waste the chance.

She bolted toward the nearest building, screaming, “Help! Someone! There’s a steel wolf!”

Slamming into the door, she found it unlocked and tumbled inside, throwing herself against it to barricade the entrance. The wolf hit the door moments later, its massive weight making the wood groan ominously. Freja braced herself, digging her heels into the ground as the beast snarled and slammed against the barrier again and again.

The door creaked under the strain, but the wolf’s attacks grew weaker, its snarls turning to desperate whimpers. Freja held her breath as she heard it limping away, vomiting once more before collapsing with a dull thud outside. She didn’t dare open the door. Instead, her legs gave out beneath her, and she slid to the floor, trembling. Bjorn’s body was still in her arms, his blood sticky against her skin. She couldn’t move.

She could only cry. Her sobs came in waves, wracking her body as she clung to him, the weight of her loss suffocating. There was no relief, no victory, only the hollow ache of grief. She cried, and she cried, the sound echoing in the empty room like a broken song.