The iron-wrought cage rattled as the beast within slammed against the bars. It was a Shard-Wolf, its fur composed of jagged obsidian needles that hummed with a low, kinetic frequency. Kaelen didn't flinch. He reached out, his palm glowing with the faint, amber light of the Lexicon—the ancient mark burned into his skin that allowed him to bridge the gap between human thought and monstrous instinct.
"Quiet," Kaelen said. His voice wasn't a command; it was a vibration that bypassed the wolf's ears and settled directly into its consciousness.
The wolf froze. Its glowing red eyes narrowed, shifting from mindless rage to a chilling, sentient calculation.
"Small speaker," the wolf's voice echoed in Kaelen's mind, sounding like grinding stones. "You smell of old ink and dry blood. You wish to bind me?"
"I wish to survive the pass," Kaelen replied, sliding the heavy bolt of the cage open. "And you wish to taste the marrow of the Frost-Giants who caged you. We have a symmetry of intent."
The Shard-Wolf stepped out, its crystalline fur bristling. It could have torn Kaelen's throat out in a heartbeat, but the Lexicon pulsed, a tether of mutual benefit.
"Then lead, Ink-Skin. I shall be your teeth."
Kaelen whistled, and from the shadows of his heavy cloak, a second creature stirred. It was a Flicker-Wisp, a translucent, many-limbed thing that looked like a drop of oil in water. It coiled around his forearm, its voice a high-pitched trill in his brain.
"Shiny-man, shiny-man! The big dog is grumpy. Shall I blind the giants for you? Shall I eat their sight?"
"Wait for the signal, Pip," Kaelen murmured. He didn't carry a sword or a bow. He carried a menagerie of living nightmares.
The ascent up the Spine of Oros was a gauntlet of freezing winds and treacherous ledges. Kaelen moved with a predator's economy, his eyes scanning the ridgeline. He felt the Shard-Wolf, whom he had named Vane, prowling in the periphery. Vane wasn't just a pet; he was a living claymore.
"Movement, three hundred yards up," Kaelen whispered.
"I smell them," Vane's voice growled in his mind. "Rank skin and old ice. Three of them. They carry clubs of frozen pine."
Kaelen knelt, pressing his hand against the frozen earth. He called to a third presence, one that lived not in a cage, but in the very soil beneath his boots—a Burrow-Drake he had captured in the salt marshes months prior.
"Rend, wake up. I need a pit."
"Sleepy," the Drake groaned, a subterranean rumble that vibrated through Kaelen's teeth. "Too cold for Rend. Give me warmth after?"
"The heart-blood of a giant is hot, Rend. Feast when the work is done."
"Agreed."
Kaelen stood and signaled the advance. As the three Frost-Giants rounded the bend, towering hulks of blue-grey flesh and matted fur, they didn't see a warrior. They saw a lone man in a tattered cloak. They laughed, a sound like falling boulders.
The largest giant raised a massive club, but Kaelen simply pointed a finger.
"Vane, shatter."
The Shard-Wolf didn't bark. It launched itself from the crags like a black arrow. Mid-air, it vibrated so violently that the obsidian needles of its fur detached, flying forward like a cloud of supersonic shrapnel. The lead giant's scream was cut short as the needles shredded through muscle and bone.
"Eat!" Vane roared internally, his physical form now a lean, muscular blur of shadow as he tore into the giant's throat.
The second giant swung its club at the wolf, but Kaelen tapped the Lexicon on his wrist. "Pip, the veil."
The Flicker-Wisp on Kaelen's arm exploded into a blinding strobe of iridescent light. The giant bellowed, clutching its eyes as the wisp danced around its head, sewing confusion and sensory overload directly into its optic nerves.
"Sparkle-death!" Pip shrieked with glee.
The third giant, seeing his brothers falling, charged at Kaelen with a roar that shook the very air. Kaelen didn't move. He waited until the giant was ten paces away, its massive foot hovering over a patch of seemingly solid snow.
"Rend. Now."
The ground collapsed. The Burrow-Drake had hollowed out a perfect, vertical shaft. The giant plummeted, the sound of breaking legs echoing up from the depths.
Kaelen walked to the edge of the pit and looked down. The giant looked up, terror in its eyes. It wasn't looking at a man anymore; it was looking at the conductor of a lethal orchestra.
"Finish it," Kaelen commanded.
Rend's massive, spade-like claws emerged from the walls of the pit, dragging the giant further into the dark.
"Tasty," Rend whispered.
Kaelen sighed, the steam of his breath vanishing into the mountain air. He looked at Vane, who was licking blood from his obsidian paws, and Pip, who was lazily floating back to his shoulder.
"We're only halfway up," Kaelen said, his voice cold. "And the Warden knows we're coming."
"Let him come," Vane replied, his red eyes glowing with predatory satisfaction. "We are hungry for a King."
Kaelen nodded, his hand resting on the Lexicon. He wasn't a hero, and he wasn't a soldier. He was a collector of monsters, and today, he was the most dangerous thing on the mountain.
Kaelen adjusted his cloak as the winds of the Spine of Oros bit through his layers. Beside him, Vane, the Shard-Wolf, padded silently, his obsidian fur occasionally clinking like glass. On his shoulder, Pip the Flicker-Wisp pulsed with a soft, nervous violet light.
"We aren't alone," Kaelen murmured.
"The air tastes of copper," Vane's voice vibrated in Kaelen's mind. "And something... old."
They reached the Mouth of Moros, a massive cavern entrance carved into the likeness of a screaming face. This was where the Warden kept the "Failed Experiments"—creatures too erratic for the Lexicon to easily bind.
Suddenly, a screech tore through the air. From the ceiling of the cave, a Sky-Siren dropped. It was a creature of pale leather and hollow bones, its face a smooth mask with no eyes, only a wide, circular mouth filled with vibrating needles.
"Pip, shield!" Kaelen shouted.
The Flicker-Wisp expanded, its light hardening into a shimmering dome. The Siren's sonic blast hit the shield, ripples of distortion washing over them.
"It hurts my ears-that-are-not-ears!" Pip cried out. "Make it stop, shiny-man!"
"Vane, the ceiling is loose. Shatter the supports!"
Vane didn't hesitate. He didn't attack the Siren directly; instead, he launched a barrage of obsidian needles at the stalactites hanging above the creature. The stone pillars groaned and collapsed, pinning the Siren's wings to the floor.
Kaelen stepped forward, his palm glowing. He didn't kill it. He knelt by the thrashing creature and pressed his hand to its cold, leathery brow. The Lexicon flared.
"Pain... hunger... dark..." the Siren's thoughts flooded Kaelen's mind.
"I can give you the sky," Kaelen whispered into its mind. "But first, you must give me your song."
The Siren went still. The bond snapped into place.
"I am... Lyra," the creature hissed internally. "I will sing for you, Binder."
With Lyra now trailing behind them in the shadows, the group pushed deeper into the mountain. They passed through the "Gallery of Frozen Tears," where the Warden kept his previous victims encased in magical ice. Kaelen saw warriors, mages, and even other Binders who had failed where he intended to succeed.
"Why do we walk into the trap?" Vane asked, his hackles raised.
"Because the Warden has the Keystone," Kaelen replied. "And without it, you'll never be truly free of the Lexicon. I'm not just binding you, Vane. I'm trying to find the key to let you all go."
The Shard-Wolf stopped and looked at the human. "You would give up your weapons? Your power?"
"A weapon that wants to be held is stronger than one forced into a hand," Kaelen said simply.
They finally reached the heart of the mountain: The Great Forge. There, the Warden waited. He was a man of immense height, his skin grafted with metallic plates and his eyes replaced by glowing blue gems. In his hand, he held a staff that thrummed with the power of a thousand captured souls.
"Kaelen," the Warden boomed, his voice echoing off the molten gold vats. "You bring my property back to me. How thoughtful."
"They aren't property," Kaelen said, his team fanning out behind him. Vane growled, Pip flared bright red, and Lyra hovered in the rafters. "And we aren't here to negotiate."
The Warden laughed. "You think talking to beasts makes you a King? I built them. I can unmake them."
The Warden raised his staff, and a wave of pure kinetic energy blasted toward them.
"Rend, up!" Kaelen commanded.
From beneath the stone floor of the forge, the Burrow-Drake erupted, creating a wall of debris that absorbed the blast.
"Lyra, the high note! Pip, strobe! Vane, go for the core!"
The battle was a symphony of chaos. Lyra released a scream that shattered the Warden's gemstone eyes, blinding him. Pip flickered in and out of existence, distracting the Warden's mechanical guardians. Rend kept the floor shifting, preventing the Warden from gaining his footing.
Finally, Vane leapt. He didn't go for the Warden's throat; he slammed into the staff, his obsidian fur vibrating at a frequency that caused the Keystone at the top to shatter.
A shockwave of blue light exploded outward. The Warden collapsed, his mechanical grafts failing without the power source.
Kaelen walked over to the shattered stone. He picked up a fragment. The Lexicon on his arm began to fade, the burning itch finally subsiding.
"The tether... it is thin," Vane remarked, standing over the defeated Warden. "I could leave. I could kill you."
Kaelen looked at the wolf, then at the wisp, the drake, and the siren. He lowered his hand. "You could. The gate is open."
There was a long silence in the cooling forge.
"The mountain is cold," Rend grumbled from his hole. "And the human knows where the sun-stones are."
"He is a good shiny-man," Pip chirped, settling back on Kaelen's shoulder.
Vane nudged Kaelen's hand with his cold, crystalline nose. "We stay. Not as bound things. But as a pack."
Kaelen smiled, the first true smile in years. They turned away from the ruins of the Forge and began the long walk down the mountain, toward a world that had no idea what was coming.