The Crown’s Shadow

The Host was meant to stand as one. Wolves of frost and wolves of fire, bound together by oath and howl, sworn to hold back the silence creeping across the land. Yet in the shadow of Dravak's crown, unity is the first thing to break. Zane, bearer of the frost, is steady and unyielding, his shield a wall between his kin and the tide of silence. But his strength is slow to rouse, his voice too quiet for wolves who hunger for a firebrand's call. Araysyn, his brother, is all blaze and fury—every spark a defiance, every roar a challenge. Wolves rally to his flame, yet fire alone threatens to scatter into ash. Between them stands Elira, sharp-eyed and fierce, unwilling to let either frost or fire consume the Host, yet forced to watch as loyalty frays and doubt spreads. When the horns of Dravak first sound, they bring terror—but it is the silence that follows which proves far worse. Wolves fracture in the stillness. Some drift away into the haze, seeking peace, only to return hollow-eyed, bound in chains of silence. The Host is forced to fight its own kin, brothers and sisters who once howled beside them, now puppets of the crown. Each clash chips at their spirit. Each night of silence weighs heavier than battle. Zane and Araysyn struggle to lead, yet every step apart only deepens the cracks in the Host. Elira knows what they will not admit: unless frost and fire crown together, the wolves will fall apart long before Dravak strikes. But Dravak does not need haste. His crown pulses from the horizon, growing stronger with every wolf who bows. His legions march in silence, an endless tide of bound wolves who do not tire, do not break, and do not howl. And when Dravak himself steps into the open, his whisper alone is enough to drive the Host to their knees. The wolves must choose. To endure frost without flame is to shatter slowly. To blaze fire without shield is to burn to ash. Only together can they stand—but together demands sacrifice neither brother is ready to make. The war of silence has only begun. The crown waits. And the Host must decide whether it will rise as one—or kneel forever.