The rumbling beneath the earth did not cease.
It traveled through the stones and walls of the sanctuary, reverberating somewhere beneath their feet and causing the ancient masonry to tremble almost imperceptibly.
It was as though an enormous heart were beating deep beneath the ground, slow and heavy, each beat echoing through the walls of the ancient temple.
Richard did not move.
He continued to stand beside the altar, his eyes fixed on the black stone.
Kain stood nearby, tensely watching the doorway.
He held his weapon in a way that allowed him to use it at a moment’s notice, though for now he made no move.
“How long will this continue?” Richard finally asked.
Kain did not take his eyes from the entrance.
“I don’t know.” Richard shot him a brief look.
“Very helpful.” A faint smile appeared on Kain’s lips.
“You’ve said that before.” For several seconds, the tension eased somewhat.
But the calm proved deceptive.
The silver line running through the center of the black stone suddenly flared.
The light was so bright that Richard instinctively narrowed his eyes.
But this time, the radiance did not remain within the altar.
It raced across the surface of the stone in thin branches, spreading in every direction and gradually forming a pattern that resembled the roots of a tree.
The silver lines reached the very edges, then vanished all at once.
Richard stared at the stone for several moments, trying to understand what had just happened.
“What is that?” Kain stepped closer and carefully examined the surface.
“I’ve seen something like this before.” Richard slowly turned toward him.
“Where?” “Your father.” “When?” Kain did not answer immediately.
“Before his death.” Richard felt an unpleasant chill spread through him.
He slowly turned his head toward Kain.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” Kain met his gaze.
“Because you wouldn’t have believed me.” “Try me.” Kain was silent for several seconds.
“Your father said the stone reacted to a presence.” “Whose presence?” Kain said nothing.
Richard felt the answer gradually becoming obvious.
“Mine.” “Possibly.” “You already know the answer.” “I know only what I saw.” Richard looked back at the altar.
“And what exactly did you see?” Kain looked away, as though he had no desire to return to those memories.
“Your father came here alone.
He stayed for several hours, then returned to the estate.” “And he changed after that?” “Yes.” “How?” Kain hesitated.
“He became more cautious.” Richard frowned.
“That’s all?” “No.” Kain lowered his eyes.
“He began to fear his own home.” Richard felt an unpleasant chill, one that had nothing to do with the dampness of the ancient sanctuary.
“Why?” “Because he said someone was watching him.” “Who?” Kain shook his head.
“He never said.” “You didn’t ask?” “I did.” “And?” Kain looked Richard directly in the eyes.
“He said that if he spoke the name, the name would hear him.” Richard remained silent for several seconds.
“That sounds insane.” “I thought so too.” “And then?” Kain lowered the weapon in his hand.
“Then your father died.” After those words, silence once again filled the sanctuary.
Richard slowly stepped away from the altar and walked around it.
Behind the massive stone base was a small niche in the wall.
It was almost completely concealed by shadow, making it nearly impossible to notice before.
Something metallic lay inside.
It looked old and covered with rust.
Richard reached toward it, but Kain immediately caught his wrist.
“Don’t.” Richard looked first at Kain’s hand, then into his eyes.
“Why?” “Because we don’t know what it is.” For several seconds, they stared at each other in silence.
Then Kain released him.
“All right,” Richard said calmly.
“Then you look.” Kain carefully removed the object from the niche.
It was a medallion—round and roughly the size of a coin.
The metal had darkened with age, but some of its details were still clearly visible.
A raven was engraved on one side.
A wolf on the other.
And between them was the same symbol of the tree Richard had already seen on the walls of the sanctuary and on his House’s crest.
Kain froze.
Richard noticed his reaction.
“You recognize it?” Kain ran his thumb across the surface of the medallion.
“Yes.” “From where?” “It belonged to your father.” Richard studied him carefully.
“His medallion?” Kain turned the object over.
Words had been engraved on the reverse.
Most of the inscription had been almost completely erased by time, but several letters could still be made out.
R.
Ravenhart.
Richard slowly extended his hand.
“Give it to me.” Kain hesitated for a moment, then handed him the medallion.
The instant the cold metal touched Richard’s palm, the world disappeared.
He was in the past again.
A familiar study appeared before his eyes.
But now he saw it differently.
The light was brighter, the walls looked newer, and Richard himself was young.
Much younger.
Several documents covered the desk, written in a fine hand.
An old man stood opposite him.
The same one.
Richard recognized him at once, though he could not remember his name.
The old man looked at him with profound weariness, as though this conversation had already taken place once and was destined to happen again.
“You should never have returned,” the old man said.
Young Richard did not look away.
“I couldn’t leave this behind.” “You have already seen how this ends.” “Then why are you still here?” The old man studied him for a long time.
Then he answered quietly: “Because someone had to wait for the next one.” Richard frowned.
“The next what?” The old man did not answer.
Instead, he placed his palm over the medallion.
“If the Tree awakens, it will not seek an heir.” Young Richard stepped forward.
“Then whom?” The old man raised his eyes.
“The one who can hear it.” “I don’t understand.” “You will.” The old man’s expression grew more serious.
“But when you do, it will already be too late.” Richard was abruptly thrown back into the present.
He staggered, barely managing to keep his balance.
Kain immediately caught him by the shoulder.
“My lord.” Richard was breathing heavily, trying to shake off the sensation that he had just plunged into icy water.
The medallion was still lying in his palm.
“I saw him.” “Whom?” “The old man.” Kain frowned.
“What old man?” Richard raised his eyes.
“The one who was here.” Kain was silent for a moment.
“What did he look like?” “I don’t know his name.
But he spoke to me.” Kain froze.
“To you?” “To the man I used to be.” For several seconds, Kain said nothing.
Then he asked: “What did he say?” Richard looked at the medallion.
“That the Tree does not seek an heir.” Kain visibly paled.
“Then what does it seek?” Richard shook his head.
“I don’t know.” At that moment, another howl sounded outside.
This time, it was much closer.
Kain immediately turned toward the entrance.
“We need to leave.” Richard looked at him in surprise.
“You just said we were staying.” “I changed my mind.” “Why?” Kain was already heading toward the ruined doorway.
“Because now I hear another voice.” Richard frowned.
“What kind?” Kain stopped beside the broken entrance and looked toward the forest.
“Not human.” They quickly left the sanctuary.
By then, the snowfall had grown much heavier.
Clouds that had previously covered only part of the sky now stretched almost completely across it, and the world was gradually darkening even though true night was still several hours away.
The horses shifted nervously.
Raven raised her head and gave a quiet whinny, her ears flicking anxiously.
Richard approached her and placed a hand on her neck.
“Easy.” But the horse did not calm down.
Meanwhile, Kain carefully surveyed the forest.
“Something is here.” “A wolf?” “Possibly.” “The one we saw earlier?” “I don’t know.” Richard looked between the trees.
At first, he noticed nothing unusual.
Only snow, dark trunks, and shadows moving among the branches as the wind stirred them.
Then he thought he saw something white flash between the trees.
Richard tensed.
“There.” Kain instantly turned in the direction Richard indicated.
But the creature had already disappeared.
“Did you see it?” “Yes.” “What was it?” Richard did not have time to answer.
A faint sound came from the forest.
Not a howl or a growl.
More like a quiet, almost plaintive whimper.
Richard turned his head.
The sound came again.
Kain raised a hand, stopping him.
“Don’t move.” Richard looked at him.
“Why?” Kain kept his eyes fixed on the trees.
“Because if it is what I think…” He did not finish.
A small white muzzle slowly appeared from behind the nearest tree.
Small.
Almost childlike.
Richard froze.
A wolf cub stood among the trees.
Its snow-white fur blended almost perfectly with the snow, making it impossible to notice only moments earlier.
Only its eyes betrayed its presence.
They were an unusual gray, almost silver.
The cub stared directly at Richard.
Not at Kain.
Only at him.
“It’s…” Richard did not finish.
The cub cautiously took a step forward.
Kain placed a hand on his weapon.
“Don’t touch it.” Richard studied the animal.
Blood stained one of its front paws.
“It’s injured.” He took a step forward, but Kain immediately caught him by the shoulder.
“My lord.” “Take your hand off me.” “This could be a trap.” Richard looked first at Kain, then back at the cub.
The animal showed no aggression.
It simply stood in the snow, staring at him as though waiting for some decision.
“He isn’t attacking.” “Not yet.” Richard slowly lowered his cane.
For some reason, he felt not the slightest sense of danger.
Quite the opposite.
The creature’s presence evoked the same strange feeling of recognition he had experienced beside Raven.
He carefully crouched down.
“I won’t hurt you.” Kain looked at him as though he had finally decided Richard had lost his mind.
But he said nothing.
The cub remained wary.
Then it took another step.
And another.
It came close enough for Richard to see the tiny snowflakes caught in its fur.
Richard slowly extended his hand.
The cub stared at it for a long moment, as though deciding whether it could trust him.
At last, it came closer and allowed Richard to touch its head.
At that very moment, cold ran through Richard’s fingers.
Not the ordinary cold of winter air.
This was something far older.
It felt as though he had touched snow that had lain buried beneath the earth for a thousand years, preserving someone else’s memory all that time.
For an instant, a branch appeared before his eyes.
A silver leaf rested upon it.
And behind it stood the enormous Tree.
Richard abruptly pulled his hand away.
The cub whimpered softly.
“What’s wrong with you?” Richard whispered.
He did not understand why those were the words he had chosen.
The cub looked at him and, as though it had received an answer to some invisible question, cautiously moved closer.
Then it rested its head on Richard’s knee.
Kain remained silent.
For a very long time.
At last, he said: “We’re taking it with us.” Richard looked up.
“You just told me not to touch it.” Kain looked at the cub.
“I changed my mind.” “Why?” Kain studied the creature for several seconds, then shifted his gaze to Richard.
“Because it chose you.” Richard wanted to ask what exactly that meant, but Kain had already turned away.
“We need to go.” Richard looked at the cub.
It tried to stand, but its injured paw immediately gave way, and it collapsed back into the snow.
“He can’t walk.” Kain sighed heavily.
“Then we’ll have to carry him.” Richard removed his cloak, carefully wrapped the cub in it, and stood.
The animal did not resist.
It merely curled up inside the warm fabric and almost immediately fell quiet.
Richard stared at the forest for several more seconds.
He thought he saw someone standing among the trees.
A tall figure, motionless and too distant for him to make out its face.
Richard blinked.
The figure was gone.
“My lord?” He turned toward Kain.
“Nothing.” They mounted their horses.
Richard held the cub with one arm and the reins with the other.
Only after some time, when the sanctuary had been left far behind, did he notice something strange.
On the inside of his palm, where he had touched the cub, a thin silver line had appeared.
It resembled a tiny root.
Richard pulled down his sleeve, concealing the mark.
He said nothing to Kain.
Not yet.
The return journey took nearly the entire following day.
They did not linger and tried not to stop unless necessary.
Several times, Kain noticed tracks in the snow, but no one pursued them.
The cub slept most of the time.
Occasionally, it would wake, open its eyes, and stare at Richard for a while, as though making sure he was still there.
Then it would settle back into the cloak and fall asleep again.
Richard barely spoke.
His thoughts constantly returned to the sanctuary.
To the man he had once been.
To the old medallion.
To the old man’s words.
And especially to the Tree.
It does not seek an heir.
Then whom?
The question would not leave him.
When the towers of the estate finally appeared ahead, Richard felt an unexpected sense of relief.
The House stood upon a hill, overlooking the snow-covered lands of the Ravenharts.
Snow covered the rooftops, and the family banner still flew from the main tower.
A raven.
A wolf.
Richard looked at the crest.
Now it seemed different.
Before, they had been nothing more than symbols of an old family, embroidered upon a piece of cloth.
But now Richard increasingly felt that there truly was supposed to be something else between the two beasts.
Something he still could not see.
The gates opened.
They were already waiting in the courtyard.
Sebastian noticed Richard first.
Then his gaze fell to the bundle in his master’s arms.
The butler frowned.
“My lord…” Richard dismounted.
“Don’t ask.” Sebastian looked at the white fur peeking from beneath the cloak.
“I wasn’t going to.” “Good.” The cub shifted slightly.
Its muzzle emerged from the folds of the fabric.
Sebastian froze.
For the first time, genuine, undisguised surprise appeared on his face.
“A northern wolf?” Richard looked at him.
“You know the species?” “I do.” Sebastian took a cautious step closer.
The cub opened its eyes and gave a quiet growl.
The butler immediately stopped.
Kain dismounted.
“It’s injured.” Sebastian shifted his gaze to the creature’s front paw.
“I see.” “Fetch the healer.” Sebastian nodded, but before leaving, he looked at the animal once more.
Then at Richard.
“Where did you find it?” Richard did not answer immediately.
“In the forest.” “In the north?” “Yes.” Sebastian’s face visibly paled.
“Then you need to tell me everything.” Richard looked at him.
“Later.” He walked past the butler toward the main entrance.
The cub tucked its muzzle back beneath the cloak.
But as Richard entered the great hall, his gaze happened to fall upon an old family portrait.
He stopped.
It depicted Arthur Ravenhart—the first lord of the House.
Richard had never seen the portrait before.
And yet the animal lying at Arthur’s feet was impossible to mistake for anything else.
The same snow-white fur.
The same gray, almost silver eyes.
The same features Richard had just seen before him.
Richard slowly approached the painting.
At the bottom, almost hidden beneath layers of old varnish and the passage of time, was a small inscription.
He ran his fingers along the frame and made out the words: “The first guardian came from the north.” Richard stared at the white wolf for a long time.
Something inside him responded.
Not with a memory.
Not yet.
Only with the vague sensation that this story had begun long before he was born.
And far to the north, beneath layers of snow and stone, the silver line on the ancient altar continued to glow.
For the first time in hundreds of years, one of the Tree’s roots had begun to awaken.