The sun was high and harsh when they reached the edge of the sacred grove. However, the moment they crossed the final rise, everything changed.
The light dimmed. The air thickened. It was as if the grove had swallowed sound and motion whole, leaving behind only stillness.
Towering trees stretched toward the sky like ancient sentinels, their limbs heavy with age and silence. Their roots twisted beneath the earth in gnarled, looping knots that broke through the soil like the bones of sleeping giants. The clearing beyond them was shadowed and wide, a place that felt untouched by time.
Sylas slowed his steps, the soft crunch of grass beneath his boots suddenly deafening. A breeze whispered through the trees, but it didn't feel natural; it carried weight, like breath held too long.
Deren raised a hand. The group halted without a word.
Sylas stood beside Eiran, the snare in his hand suddenly cold. The rabbit dangled limp at his side, forgotten for a moment as he stared into the grove's shadowed depths. The tightness in his chest hadn't eased since the hunt began, but slowly shifted, transforming from anxiety into something else.
Something older.
"Hold," Deren said, his voice low. There was a reverence in it Sylas had never heard before. "Stay quiet. Stay still."
Sylas blinked, confused. "What's here?"
Deren didn't answer. He simply unslung his hunting spear and knelt, laying it gently on the grass in front of him. Eiran followed without hesitation, setting his bow and quiver aside. Even the sharp-tongued Nara quietly lowered her gear and bowed her head.
Sylas hesitated. The air here felt thick, like the grove itself was pressing against his skin.
"Do as we do," Deren said firmly, his eyes never leaving the space between the trees.
Sylas lowered his bow with shaking hands. He set the snare down beside it. The rabbit's lifeless body looked absurdly small and insignificant.
He knelt.
The grass was soft, damp with morning dew, and carried the scent of moss and loam. The earth felt alive.
Time passed in strange silence. Minutes stretched, elastic and unreal. Just as Sylas's thoughts began to slip, a sound rumbled through the grove.
Not thunder.
Not footsteps.
Something deeper.
A low, resonant growl, not of threat, but of presence like the earth itself was exhaling.
Branches shifted. Leaves trembled.
And then it stepped into view.
The bear.
No ordinary beast. Sylas had seen bears before thick with muscle and feral strength but this was something else. Its sheer size dwarfed even the tallest man. Its fur was darker than soil, but shimmered with streaks of silver and gold markings that pulsed with a quiet rhythm, like a second heartbeat woven through its body.
Each step was slow, deliberate, and powerful. The ground did not tremble beneath it, but the air seemed to bend in its wake.
Sylas could not move.
Its eyes were gold like molten sun and just as blinding. They flicked over the kneeling figures, resting on each with measured attention.
The Bear god's vessel.
A living embodiment of power.
Deren lowered his head. "Offer your kills. Show respect."
He rose to his feet and stepped forward, placing Eiran's buck at the center of the clearing with solemn care. Eiran followed, adding a second deer an earlier kill Sylas hadn't even seen him make.
Nara moved next. No jokes, no remarks. Just a quiet, steady step and a rabbit placed beside the others.
Then it was Sylas's turn.
He didn't move.
The bear was staring at him.
Its gaze was not cruel or kind, it simply was, like moonlight or wind or the feeling you get before a storm breaks. Sylas couldn't breathe. He could barely think.
"Go," Eiran whispered beside him.
Sylas's limbs felt like stone. He forced himself up, one foot at a time, walking slowly toward the others. He knelt again and placed the rabbit down beside Nara's.
It looked small. Pathetic. The snare string still curled around its hind leg.
The bear's gaze locked onto him. It felt like standing beneath the night sky with no stars, like drowning in silence.
Its golden eyes narrowed.
Sylas's breath caught. His pulse pounded in his throat.
It was seeing him. Not his body, not his kill. His thoughts. His fears. His uncertainty. Every flaw peeled back like bark stripped from a tree.
"What do you see in me?"
The question echoed in his mind like a drumbeat.
The bear rumbled again, low, deep, and almost amused. It sounded, impossibly, like laughter.
Then it moved on.
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The clearing held its breath as the bear sniffed the offerings one by one. It paused at each, tilting its great head, breathing in the scent of blood and effort. When it passed by Sylas's rabbit again, it paused a second time.
And then it moved on without a sound.
At the edge of the grove, the bear turned. Its fur shimmered with its strange markings. Then it disappeared into the trees, its body swallowed by light and shadow.
No crashing. No growl. Just… gone.
Silence rushed in behind it.
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Sylas remained kneeling long after the bear vanished, his heart still hammering in his chest.
Had it judged him? Or spared him?
Had it seen potential? Or weakness?
He didn't know.
All he knew was that the Bear god's eyes had stared into him like he was more than skin and blood.
And he had not looked away.