Dawn came heavy, painted in bruised gold and storm-blue shadows.
The forest around the camp had been scorched by Sanctum flame. Trees stood half-burnt, their limbs crackling in the wind like dying prayers. The ground was littered with broken talismans and the charred armor of the failed ambush.
But the silence was worse than the fire.
Caelum sat alone by the ashes, his fingers stained with dried blood from the Sanctum sigils he'd carved apart during the night.
The fourth thread still pulsed inside him tainted, awake, and laughing.
Lira approached from behind, gently setting a bowl of herbal paste beside him. "We need to leave soon. They'll come again."
"I know," he said hollowly.
She hesitated. "Caelum… about Serenya"
He didn't look up. "She reached me where I was weakest. She didn't break me. But she bent something I hadn't realized could bend."
Lira sank down beside him, her voice low. "You trust too quickly."
"I have to," he whispered. "Otherwise… I'll become just like them."
They traveled west.
Through the Veilgroves, where trees whispered in broken voices. Through the ruins of Mooncrest Tower, now little more than a pile of bone-glass and rusted Sanctum iron. Every path they took was scarred by old war ,the Beast Wars, Ashra called them. Echoes of what could come again.
By nightfall, they reached the Crimson Hollow, a valley deep in the Flameborn Ridge.
It was here that Caelum stopped.
"We can't go forward like this," he said.
Ashra looked up sharply. "Explain."
"We've fought side by side. Bled. Burned. But we've never sealed the true pact. The Old Flame. The Oath of Sovereigns."
Ashra's wings slowly extended behind her, glowing in reverence.
"You mean… the Blood Oath Pact?"
Thorne shifted beside the fire, eyes narrowing. "That rite hasn't been done in over five hundred years. It fuses not just bond... but memory, instinct, desire. Are you certain?"
Caelum stood straighter. "We can't afford half-loyalties anymore. Not when we don't know what's inside me."
Lira approached slowly. "If you do this, your beasts will no longer just protect you. They'll feel your thoughts. Your wants. Your shame."
Caelum nodded. "I want them to. They deserve to know me completely."
Ashra stared at him for a long moment, then smiled softly. "Then you have my flame."
That night, the ritual began.
The hollow glowed with a circle of fire runes etched by Ashra's claws. In the center stood Caelum, bare-chested, the sigil across his chest glowing white-gold.
Ashra stepped forward first.
She placed her palm over his heart.
"By the fire that forged stars, I bind my essence to yours. Not just flame, but soul."
A wave of heat surged from her, pouring into him—not painful, but intimate. Caelum gasped as visions rushed into him:
A memory of Ashra soaring through the Flamewinds before the Beast Wars.
Her first breath as a Sovereign, born of phoenix flame.
Her loneliness across eons, watching her kin fall.
And her pain… when Caelum was marked as unworthy.
He clutched her hand, overwhelmed. "You were there. The day they cast me out."
Ashra nodded.
"I watched," she whispered. "And I couldn't stop it."
He pulled her close, resting his forehead against hers. "You saved me the moment you answered the call."
Their bond ignited golden flame lashing into the sky.
Thorne came next.
He didn't speak.
He simply pressed his clawed hand to Caelum's back.
A surge of stormlight rushed into Caelum's spine, coursing like thunder through his limbs. He saw Thorne's memories:
The agony of being hunted for what he was chimera born of beast and Sanctum experiments.
His first kill. His first betrayal.
And his first taste of freedom ,when Caelum did not flinch from his monstrous form.
Thorne growled. "You gave me a name."
Caelum turned. "You gave me a brother."
They embraced, briefly, before lightning and flame joined in the ritual circle.
Then came Vraenak.
He stepped forward slowly, head bowed. His massive clawed hand lowered until one talon touched Caelum's palm.
There was no pain this time.
Only silence.
And then…
Visions.
Of being born in a vat of divine flame, stitched together by priests who worshiped war.
Of seeing his reflection once and hating it.
Of sleeping through time, waiting for someone who did not fear him.
"I know what I am," Vraenak's voice echoed in Caelum's mind. "But in your presence… I am not only that."
The sigil blazed blood-red and silver.
The third bond sealed.
The three beasts stood around him, glowing with divine magic.
The Blood Oath was complete.
They were now bound beyond mere instinct soul-fused. Their memories, their fears, their desires… now echoed in Caelum's spirit like shared breath.
Lira watched from the edge, hand pressed over her heart.
"You're not just a binder anymore," she whispered.
"You're becoming a Sovereign yourself."
Later that night, Caelum sat by the fire, exhausted.
Lira knelt beside him and gently rested her head on his shoulder. "You should rest."
"I can't," he murmured. "Not until I know what this fourth thread is really for."
She looked at him seriously. "You know I'm not a beast, right?"
He nodded.
"But you're part of this circle now," he said softly. "I don't care if there's no sigil. I trust you more than the gods."
Lira turned her head up, lips inches from his. "You shouldn't."
But she kissed him anyway.
And for a moment
the world
was warm.
In the shadows far beyond Emberreach Hollow, cloaked figures gathered beneath Moonhold Bridge.
A man in bone-white armor stood in the center, holding a spear forged of fallen starsteel.
"Tomorrow," he said. "The Sovereign Binder dies."
Behind him, a dozen chained beasts howled corrupted versions of bound familiars, twisted by Sanctum blackcraft.
Caelum's eyes opened.
The fire crackled softly beside him.
Ashra lay curled beside his left. Thorne, in humanoid form, stood leaning against a tree. Vraenak kept watch from the cliff above.
And Lira her hand still rested on his chest, her breathing slow, soft.
He exhaled slowly.
Tomorrow would come.
And they would be ready.
End of Chapter 9