It began with silence.
For the first time in years, the realm had an air over the ruins that did not carry the cry of war, nor the scent of smoke from burning remains of battle. Instead, there was wind, fresh and heavy with pine and rain, sweeping down from the northern cliffs where snowmelt fed the rivers that once flowed red with blood.
The bones of the kingdom- charred towers, broken roads, and hollow temples- had not been erased. But now, they were been reborn.
The heart of Solryn pulsed again.
_The East: Flame and Forest
Commander Zaryn rode eastward first, his black wolf cloak swaying with the wind as he crossed into the charred woodland known as Durelin's Reach. Once, this forest had been the breadbasket of Solryn, home to earthbound clans who farmed, harvested and lived in the heartbeat of the realm.
But under Kael's reign, the Reach had been set ablaze- punishment for harboring rebels. Now, weeds sprouted defiantly between blackened roots. The survivors, mostly older warriors and scattered families, had begun to return, planting seeds in the ash. Zaryn oversaw the Coronation of Alpha Raeven, a woman who had lived in exile since she refused to bend to Kael's will.
Raeven's people gathered under the canopy of trees regrown from scorched trunks. Her vow was simple "We grow where we were burned."
It was enough to make the winds weep.
_The North: Stone and Sky
In the northern highlands of the realm, the wolves of the Skyfang clans returned home.
The mountain citadels had been abandoned for over a decade, their fortresses buried under the snow and cursed silence. Kael's hounds had labelled the Skyfangs traitors when they refused to kill cubs born of rogue blood. They scattered and disappeared in locations across the realm and their names nearly forgotten.
Now they came back.
Eleanor and Jedrek traveled north together, riding through snow-laced ridges, the wind screaming with old voices. It was Jedrek's first time seeing the Skyfang stronghold rebuilt- cold stone mended by song and fire lit not for war but for warmth.
Alpha Torik Skyfang, silver- haired and blind, knelt before the great wolf statue of his ancestors. His pack crowned with ice-forged iron and howled to the moon for the first time since they were banished.
"Your kingdom lives," he said to Jedrek. "Even if you don't yet rule it."
Jedrek didn't answer.
Eleanor only reached for his hands in silence.
_The West: Firebrands and Forgiveness
The western frontiers of the realm had always been wild.
It was where the rogues ran, where outcasts made dens in the cliffs, where the line between predator and prey blurred. Under Kael, it had been hell. Packs were torn apart by suspicion, leaders killed and replaced by brutes who offered loyalty in blood.
But not all the rogues had forgotten who they once were.
Jedrek sent Lucas westward- his most trusted commander, now acting as Realm Captain in Jedrek's stead. With one eye still bruised from the last battle and a new scar beneath his jaw, Lucas rode not as a conqueror but as a brother.
He found the Ashwam Pack hiding in an abandoned mine- cursed for betraying an ancient blood oath, now freed when Kael merged with the rift and the curse lifted.
They bowed to no one- until Lucas told them, "You've bled enough. Let's build something worth bleeding for."
They answered with a growl, then a hum.
And so, Alpha Theran was crowned beneath the Western Spires, surrounded by wolves who once swore never to be ruled again."
_The South: The Hidden Paths
The southern lands remained quiet.
Eleanor travelled there alone, following trails only the Vale blood could sense. The forests whispered in her ears, calling her towards old places hidden by enchantment. Here, fugitives who fled Kael's terror lived in pockets- children born without names, women with stories tattooed on their skin, elders who spoke of stars and fire.
They bowed to no king or queen, yet when Eleanor passed, they lit torches along the old wolf paths.
A girl named Lira brought her a basket of roots and said "You don't smell like a ruler, you smell like hope."
Eleanor smiled.
It was the only crown she needed that day.
_A Realm Hesitant To Rise
By moonlight, the four regions- East, West, North and South- began to hum again with life.
But still, there was no high Alpha of the realm.
Jedrek refused the tittle.
He worked, he commanded, he healed- but whenever the subject arose in court, he silenced it with a look.
"I'm not the king this realm needs," he told Lucas one night.
Lucas stared at him unreadable "then you had better become the one it deserves."
It was deep in the night when Jedrek returned to the ruins alone.
The stars above Solryn had come out of hiding, glittering like a crown that belonged to no one- yet every stone and marble beneath his feet whispered that he had already been chosen.
He didn't want it.
Not the crown. Not the throne. Not the weight.
He wanted her.
And for a few hours, he wanted to be nothing more than Jedrek- not a Prince, not a warrior, not the man expected to rebuild what was broken.
Just Jedrek.
He found Eleanor in the garden.
The old temple ruins had become something softer now, vines threading through cracks like quiet promises. The moon bathed her in light as she knelt barefoot near the edge of the reflecting pool, her fingers trailing through the cool water like a priestess in prayer.
She looked up as he approached, and the way her eyes found his- steady, sure- told him that she had always been the stronger one.
"You're avoiding them again," she said, voice quiet.
"I'm tired of being watched."
"They're not watching you," she replied "They're waiting. There's a difference."
He knelt beside her, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I'm not ready to be a king, Eleanor."