Kaelum didn't linger in the bustling stone city. Almost as soon as we'd entered its heart, he turned down a wide avenue that sloped upwards, leading away from the markets and homes, towards the imposing peaks that cradled the settlement. The polished granite buildings gave way to sturdy stone guard posts, and then the city wall rose again before us. Another colossal gate stood open here, wider than the first, flanked by stern-faced sentinels who saluted sharply as Kaelum passed without breaking stride.
We left the ordered hum of the city behind. The paved road became packed earth, then a winding trail leading into dense, ancient forests that climbed the lower slopes of the mountains. Towering pines, their bark thick and deeply furrowed, closed in overhead, filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the forest floor thick with ferns and moss. The air grew cooler, sharper, smelling of damp earth, pine resin, and something wilder, older. Kaelum moved with silent power here, his massive form flowing between the trees like a shadow given substance. The bond thrummed with the pulse of the wilderness, a deeper, more primal resonance than the city's energy. We climbed steadily, the trail growing steeper, the trees thinning as we reached higher, rockier ground.
Just as I was beginning to wonder how much farther we could climb, the forest abruptly fell away. We emerged onto a vast, windswept plateau, high in the mountains. And there, dominating the entire vista, was the Citadel.
My breath caught in my throat, stolen by the sheer, impossible scale and presence of it.
It wasn't just a building; it was a mountain sculpted into a fortress, a defiant claw of stone raking the sky. It looked carved from the living rock of the peak it crowned, yet impossibly shaped by hands both mighty and ancient. Towers, impossibly tall and slender like watchful sentinels, pierced the clouds. Battlements, thick and crenellated, wound around sheer cliffs and jutted out over dizzying drops. Great arched windows, like the eyes of some slumbering giant, were set deep into walls that seemed a hundred feet thick. Bridges of stone, impossibly delicate yet undoubtedly strong, spanned chasms between different wings of the sprawling complex. Waterfalls, fed by snowmelt high above, cascaded down parts of the structure, catching the sunlight like ribbons of silver.
It was brutal and beautiful, ancient and powerful. It had the imposing, martial strength of a fortress built for war. Stained glass, depicting wolves in flight, battles against shadowy beasts, and constellations I didn't recognize, glittered in some of the larger windows. Runes, deep-cut and glowing faintly even in daylight, were etched into the stonework around doorways and archways. Flags bearing the stylized wolf sigil snapped in the high-altitude wind from dozens of towers. It felt less like a school and more like the beating heart of the kingdom's defense, a place where power was both forged and wielded.
Kaelum stopped at the edge of the plateau, allowing me a moment to simply stare. The sheer scale of it dwarfed the city below, making it look like a toy settlement. The wind whipped my hair around my face, carrying the scent of snow and ozone. The hum within me vibrated in harmony with the immense, silent power radiating from the stone.
"The Citadel." Kaelum's voice resonated within my mind, cutting through my awe.
I swallowed, my voice barely a whisper carried away by the wind. "This... this is it? Where...?" Words failed me.
"Where the newly bonded train," he confirmed as his gaze lifted from the gates to the other end of the colossal structure."Where the defense of the kingdom is built. Stone by stone. Rider by rider."
Kaelum stood motionless on the plateau's edge, the wind rippling his dense, midnight fur as I stared, utterly transfixed by the Citadel. It wasn't just its size, though that was staggering. It was the feeling it projected – ancient power and unyielding strength.
"The Citadel of Zevarra," Kaelum's voice resonated again in my mind, a grounding anchor amidst the overwhelming vista. "Heartstone."
So we were in Heartstone, that I'd heard of. "It's... immense," I breathed, the word utterly inadequate. "You said the newly bonded train here. And defense is built... what else happens within those walls?"
His great head tilted slightly, glacial eyes still fixed on the fortress. The information flowed through the bond, not as a lecture, but as impressions, concepts, layered over the image of the soaring towers and deep-carved windows.
"The bonded are its core. Their training shapes the shield wall. Strategy. Combat. Mastery of the bond." Finally, we both heard the footsteps of the other Bondeds, and slowly we turned. "But the shield requires more than its edge."
"Healers mend the shield. Their arts bind flesh and spirit, try and counter the Sucker's taint. Their towers face the dawn light." He indicated a cluster of slightly slenderer towers on the eastern flank, their windows larger, catching the sun.
"Noble scions, unbonded. Train here in governance, history, logistics. Commanders. Diplomats. The Citadel forges the mind as well as the claw." This place was the crucible for the kingdom's entire leadership structure, bonded or not. "Scholars delve into the old magics, the histories of the Packs and the Shadow. Artificers maintain the wards, the forges deep within the stone."
The sheer scope of it settled over me, heavier than the mountain air. This wasn't just a fortress or a warrior school. It was a living, breathing engine of civilization and defense. The bustling city below suddenly made more sense – it was the vital support system, the lifeblood feeding this immense stone heart beating high above.
The hum within me seemed to resonate with the Citadel's own deep thrum. It wasn't just about me and Kaelum anymore. It was about being part of this vast, intricate machine dedicated to survival.
I turned back to see again, others were finally here, Roan, Zale and Marco astride their own wolves padded towards us, their eyes assessing the fortress the way I had.
Kaelum shifted beneath me, a low rumble vibrating through his chest and into my bones. "We enter." He began to move forward again, his powerful strides eating up the distance towards the colossal main gates, which began to swing slowly inward as we approached, revealing a glimpse of a vast, shadowed courtyard within.
The colossal gates groaned shut behind us, sealing out the wind and the vastness of the plateau. Inside the Citadel's main courtyard, the scale was even more oppressive. Sunlight struggled to reach the worn flagstones, filtered through towering arches and overshadowed by sheer walls that seemed to lean inward. The air was still, thick with the scent of cold stone, ancient dust, and something metallic – like old blood or deep forges.
Kaelum came to a halt. The silent command through the bond was clear: Dismount. I slid down his massive shoulder, my legs slightly shaky after the long ride and the overwhelming sensory assault. As my boots touched the stone, Kaelum nudged me gently with his great head, a brief, grounding pressure. Then, without a sound or a backward glance, he flowed away like liquid shadow, disappearing down a wide, shadowed archway leading deeper into the mountain fortress. The sudden absence of his physical presence beside me left a void, feeling exposed, though the bond hummed reassuringly within.
A hand clapped my shoulder. "Still breathing, Liren?" Marco stood beside me, a weary grin on his face, though his eyes held the same shell-shocked awe I felt. Zale and Roan joined us, their expressions mirroring ours as they stared up at the impossible fortress.
"Thankfully." I said, as Zale walked towards us, "We're all Bonded Riders now!" He cheered, looking absolutely thrilled and the moment our eyes met, I felt the exhilaration too. Besides, Bonded had a nice ring to it. Flynn would be so proud. Flynn…
"What are your packs?" Roan asked, his voice carrying the same authoritative tone as before, now that he looked healthy enough. I never knew wolves could heal their Bondeds.
Marco stormed ahead, his cloak flapping behind him like a banner of righteous fury.
"Nathair! Regis is a bloody menace—he lunged in mid-sprint and ripped a deer right out of our path, then had the audacity to keep chewing as we ran!" he said with more than just a hint for pride, spinning to face us.
A low snort came from behind him—Roan, leaning lazily against a pillar, arms crossed, eyes glittering with amusement. "Akira says that Regis hunts like a toddler with too many teeth and no impulse control."
He paused, lips twitching. "Also, she wants to know if you plan to teach him table manners before or after he takes down a horse next time."
Marco blinked, deadpan, "Regis says that Akira is just jealous because he eats with passion."
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it, and that's when Zale slid up beside me, his arm draping over my shoulders, a crooked grin taking place. "Well, since everyone's naming names—Serelune." He tilted his head toward me, voice dropping slightly. "That's my bonded."
I looked up at him. "Pretty name. Pack?"
"Lorgaire. Trackers. The best of them," he said without hesitation, a hint of pride gleaming in his eyes. "She's quiet, fast, smarter than me, and must I add, extremely graceful."
Roan pushed off the pillar, his movement fluid despite the lingering stiffness from his wound. "Akira. Feabhas." His introduction was characteristically terse, no embellishment needed. The large, stormy grey wolf that he had just dismounted spoke for herself more than Roan ever could.
I met his gaze and nodded. "Kaelum. Feabhas." Saying it aloud, claiming the pack of leaders and strategists, sent a small thrill mixed with apprehension through me. The massive, shadow-pelted wolf currently hunting the peaks felt intrinsically linked to that responsibility.
Marco snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels. He jerked his chin towards the archway Kaelum had vanished down. "Yeah, well, your fur-tank made me piss my pants the first time I saw him materialize out of the dark back at the stone. Thought Death himself had come collecting early." He shuddered dramatically. "Still not entirely convinced he wasn't."
Zale let out a low whistle, his gaze lingering on the path Kaelum had taken. "Honestly? When he moved past us in the forest… it felt like the trees bowed out of his way. Like he wasn't walking through the wild—it was making space for him." His arm slipped off my shoulder as he straightened slightly, more serious now. "There's something ancient in him. Powerful. Not just muscle or magic—something... old. Feels like if he wanted to, he could walk through a mountain and the stone would apologize for being in his path."
I blinked, surprised by the poetic reverence in his voice. Zale caught my look and shrugged with a crooked grin, though the awe didn't fade from his eyes. "Lorgaire are trained to track anything. But even Serelune said she wouldn't try to follow his trail. Said his path disappears like he's never touched the earth."