As dawn broke through the morning mist, Min Khant Thu Ya adjusted the leather straps of his travel gear and stared into the dark silhouette of Yvarin Forest. Tales of wild beasts, cursed spirits, and forgotten ruins surrounded the ancient woods, but none terrified travelers more than the legend of the Black Wolf—a creature said to stalk anyone who dared enter its territory.
Beside him, Aren Velthorn tightened his sword belt. "You sure we need to go through this forest, Your Highness? We could circle around and take the valley road instead. It'll add a few days, but—"
"We don't have a few days," Min Khant replied, his tone sharper than usual. "The orc tribes gave us a week to deliver the message to Lord Avenhurst. If we fail, they'll assume we've betrayed the alliance."
Aren frowned. "I still don't trust that orc king. One moment he's calling us allies, the next he's talking about crushing human cities. Why help him at all?"
"Because we need him alive—for now," Min Khant said with a smirk. "And because gaining the trust of dangerous allies is sometimes the key to lasting peace."
With no more to discuss, the two of them stepped into the shadow of Yvarin Forest.
The deeper they ventured, the more oppressive the forest felt. Trees twisted like writhing serpents, their branches reaching down like claws. Faint whispers floated in the air—not voices exactly, but something else… something ancient.
Hours passed in uneasy silence until a howl echoed through the trees, low and long.
"That's not a normal wolf," Aren muttered, his hand instinctively going to his sword.
Min Khant nodded. "We're being watched."
He was right.
Just beyond the tree line, golden eyes flickered between the leaves. A black blur moved with unnatural speed, circling them without making a sound.
"I have an idea," Min Khant said suddenly. "Don't draw your weapon."
"What?" Aren blinked. "Are you mad?"
"Just trust me."
Before Aren could argue further, Min Khant stepped forward and knelt in the middle of a clearing. "We're not here to challenge you," he said loudly, voice steady. "If you're the Black Wolf, guardian of Yvarin, then I seek your aid."
Nothing.
Only silence.
Then a snarl tore through the quiet as the black wolf leapt into the clearing—its size far surpassing any normal beast. It stood as tall as a horse, its fur like ink, its eyes intelligent and sharp.
Aren gasped and instinctively drew his sword, but Min Khant held out a hand. "Wait."
The Black Wolf stalked closer, its growl deep and resonant.
Min Khant met its gaze. "I read about you… in the book. You're not just a beast. You're cursed—bound to this forest until a royal with inner clarity and unclouded judgment offers you freedom."
The wolf's growl softened.
Min Khant continued, "I don't come to kill you. I come to break your chains."
For a moment, nothing moved.
Then the wolf let out a long, slow breath—and changed.
Its form shimmered, twisting and shrinking until a tall, silver-haired man stood before them, cloaked in a dark mantle. His eyes remained golden, fierce and knowing.
"You are not like the prince in the legends," the man said, his voice calm yet commanding.
"That's because I'm not really him," Min Khant said with a faint smile. "Not in the way you think."
The man gave him a long look. "You bear the name, the face, and yet… your soul is different."
Aren looked between them, completely lost. "Okay, what in the twelve hells is going on?"
The man bowed his head slightly. "I am Fenrir, once knight of the Northern Flame. Betrayed by those I served, I was cursed into the form of a beast—doomed to haunt these woods until a royal heart both brave and pure could lift the spell."
"And you're saying… I qualify?" Min Khant raised a brow.
"You do," Fenrir said. "I feel no hatred in you, no hunger for power. You see the world differently… as if you've lived another life."
Min Khant glanced at Aren, then looked back at Fenrir. "So what now?"
"I am bound no longer," Fenrir said. "The curse is lifted. As promised by ancient pact, I offer you my sword, my strength, and my loyalty."
Aren stared. "Wait… we're recruiting a legendary warrior now?"
Min Khant laughed. "Looks like it."
With Fenrir now part of their group, the forest itself seemed to shift. The oppressive air lifted. Light broke through the leaves more easily. Paths that were once hidden became clear.
By the time they emerged from the woods, the sun was beginning to set. They had survived Yvarin Forest, found an ally more powerful than any soldier—and gained something even rarer: a legend come to life.
And yet, as they set up camp for the night, Min Khant couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.
Far to the east, in a dark tower hidden by mist and shadow, a pair of crimson eyes opened.
A voice like smoke whispered, "The cursed wolf walks free… and the prince begins to rewrite fate. So it begins again…"