Chapter 6 The Shadow Hunts

• The dawn crept over the Garun forest, but its gentle light did little to erase the heaviness that hung in the air. Meher sat by the temple’s stone threshold, staring at her hands. They looked the same—slender fingers, smooth skin—but she could still feel the echo of the silver orb that had entered her, a quiet pulse beneath her flesh.
• Inside, Ayaan was preparing for what came next.
• The bond had been accepted. The Ancients had marked her. There was no turning back.
• But as the first light of day kissed the ancient trees, danger stirred elsewhere.
• Far beyond the sacred forest, where twisted roots strangled the earth and the air reeked of decay, a figure moved through the mist. Draped in robes of midnight black, their face obscured by a mask carved from obsidian, they knelt before a stone altar.
• On the altar, a pool of dark water rippled as if alive, reflecting visions from the Garun forest.
• The Seeker had awakened.
• “You cannot hide her, Ayaan,” the figure whispered, their voice a sinister melody. “The curse demands blood. And blood it shall have.”
• Behind them, a pack of shadows slithered into form—twisted, half-formed wolves with eyes of molten gold. Unlike the rogues from before, these creatures oozed malice. They were the Jaagruk, ancient hunters born from the curse’s darkest depths.
• The figure raised a skeletal hand, curling their fingers as if grasping an invisible thread.
• “Go,” they commanded. “Find the girl. Bring me her heart.”
• The Jaagruk vanished into the mist, their snarls echoing into the trees.
• Back in the Garun forest, a sudden shiver ran down Meher’s spine.
• “Ayaan,” she called, her voice tense.
• He emerged from the temple’s inner chamber, shirtless, his body bearing the scars of centuries. His golden eyes sharpened at once.
• “You felt it too,” he said.
• She nodded. “Something’s coming. Worse than before.”
• He didn’t doubt her. The bond between them had grown stronger overnight. Now, her senses were sharpening, attuning to the dangers that lurked beyond sight.
• “The Council’s mark awakened you, but it also sent a signal to the curse’s guardian. We’ve little time before they strike.”
• Ayaan retrieved a bundle wrapped in dark cloth and handed it to Meher. Inside was a dagger—ancient, silver-edged, with symbols etched along its blade. The hilt fit perfectly in her hand, as if it had always belonged there.
• “This is the Chandrakirpan,” Ayaan explained. “Forged in moonfire, blessed by the Ancients. It can cut through the curse’s minions. You’ll need it.”
• Meher’s fingers tightened around the weapon. A strange calm settled over her. She had never held a blade before, yet its weight felt right.
• “I won’t run, Ayaan. If they come for me, they’ll find I’m not so easy to take.”
• A small, proud smile curved his lips. “You are fiercer than any Seeker before you.”
• Suddenly, the ground trembled. Birds erupted from the treetops, their cries piercing the tense air. From the northern ridge, howls echoed—not the noble call of Garun wolves, but the guttural, corrupted wails of the Jaagruk.
• “They’ve crossed into sacred lands,” Ayaan growled. “They shouldn’t be able to. Not unless…”
• His expression darkened. “Someone has broken the wards.”
• Realization struck Meher. “The curse’s guardian. They know where I am.”
• Ayaan’s jaw clenched. “We need to move. The temple’s wards are failing. There’s only one place safe enough now.”
• “Where?”
• “The Heartgrove.”
• He didn’t wait for her to ask questions. With fluid motion, he shifted into his wolf form, his silver fur gleaming under the morning light. Meher had no time to marvel. She sheathed the dagger, hoisted the bundle of sacred scrolls, and climbed onto his back.
• The journey through the forest was a blur of speed and shadows. The Jaagruk were relentless, but Ayaan was faster, weaving through the trees with supernatural grace. Still, Meher could sense the hunters closing in.
• The Heartgrove was a place whispered of in old tales. A sanctuary where the Garun wolves communed with the Ancients. It was said to be protected by old magic—magic even the curse feared.
• But reaching it was a race against time.
• As they crossed a shallow creek, Meher’s breath caught. The Jaagruk had gained ground. From the mist, they leapt—grotesque shapes of fur and shadow, their jaws snapping, eyes burning with hunger.
• Ayaan snarled, twisting mid-leap, and sent two of them crashing into the underbrush. Meher drew the Chandrakirpan, slashing at a third as it lunged. The blade sang through the air, its silver edge slicing clean through the creature’s neck. The Jaagruk’s body dissolved into ash before it hit the ground.
• A surge of adrenaline coursed through her.
• “Keep going!” she urged.
• They broke through the treeline, the forest parting to reveal a glade bathed in silver light. Towering trees formed a natural cathedral, their leaves shimmering as if dusted with stardust. In the center stood an ancient stone monolith, its surface pulsing with living energy.
• “The Heartgrove,” Meher breathed.
• Ayaan skidded to a halt, shifting back to his human form in one fluid motion. “We’re safe here. For now.”
• The Jaagruk circled the grove’s edge, snarling in frustration, unable to cross the invisible barrier. Meher could feel the ancient magic humming beneath her feet, a living heartbeat that welcomed her presence.
• But their respite was short-lived.
• From the shadows, the guardian emerged.
• Clad in robes of midnight, the figure from the cursed lands stepped into view. The obsidian mask gleamed as they raised their hands, dark tendrils of magic slithering towards the barrier.
• “You cannot hide her forever, Alpha,” the guardian crooned. “The bond may have awakened, but the curse’s hunger grows.”
• Ayaan stepped forward, his body tense, shielding Meher.
• “I will protect her. With my life, if I must.”
• The guardian’s laugh was a cold, hollow sound. “You always say that. And yet, each time, the end is the same. Do you think this Seeker will be different?”
• Meher’s hand found Ayaan’s. Their fingers intertwined, solid and sure.
• “She already is,” Ayaan said.
• For a moment, the guardian stilled.
• Then, with a dismissive wave, they retreated into the mist. The Jaagruk followed, their forms dissolving into shadow.
• The forest fell silent.
• But the message was clear.
• “This is only the beginning,” Meher said quietly.
• Ayaan turned to her, his golden eyes fierce but filled with something else—faith.
• “Then we begin, together.”
• As the first rays of sunlight pierced the grove, Meher knew their fight had truly begun.
• But with every step, every choice, she was no longer just a reporter chasing legends.
• She was the Seeker.
• And the destiny of two worlds rested on her heart.
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