When Toivo awoke, he was alone.

Before he even opened his eyes, he knew it. The air was heavy with loneliness. The only sound to fill his ears was the thud of his own heart, steady and strong, the fluttering beat it had taken during the battle faded in to calm.

An aching throb pressed at the base of his snout, where the final Shadewylf had hit him. He couldn't even remember what they looked like. Since he'd exited the tunnel, everything had become a flurry of black, darkened further by the crushing realisation that his heroic rescue had turned into slaughter.

It was a surprise that he'd even woken up at all.

After several moments of steeling himself, trying to suppress his head's ache, he found the courage to open his eyes. Silver light that wasn't really there flooded into the place, his night vision flicking on automatically. He was glad it didn't require energy to use. He didn't think he had that capacity right now.

Even being able to see didn't show him a great deal. Rock walls on the three sides he could see, undoubtably behind him as well, enclosing him in his own grey cell. Except this one had no bars, or any neighbours, from the silence of the place.

There was cold stone beneath him, too. Shifting his paws, he heaved himself upright, his sharp intake of breath echoing as his legs stung. In the fight in the forest, he'd escaped with very few wounds, but the more recent prison battle had scraped him enough times for him to take notice. One particular gash curved from the back of his paw to almost his chest, making him wince as he tried to put weight on the leg.

Who had done it, he had no idea. There had been no clear opponent in those prisons but blurred shadow.

It wasn't dehabilitating, though, and Toivo found that he could endure the pain enough to stand fully and spin to face the opposite wall. It was as he expected - blank and grey, just like every other.

I wonder if their magic can do this, he thought to himself as he limped over to touch his claw to the rock. Manipulate rock. That would be something he could admit was a pretty amazing power, unlike the strangeness of the fear-inducing ability he'd discovered. It also would make their living in a cave make a little more sense.

He let out a frustrated sigh. Now was hardly the time to be marvelling at Shadewylf power. He was trapped in an unknown place, deep in a cave filled with villains. This may as well have been his coffin. They'd basically buried him alive.

Smokering the choked whimper lodged in his throat, he growled, trying to find some scrap of the confidence that had lurked within him the last few days. He'd managed to escape the Wylfire's claws, outmanouver Shadewylves, and fight in two battles with frightening ease. But this had to be the worst trial so far. Buried alive, lost and alone, facing the reality that after all he'd survived, his mission was over.

This was what failure felt like. Real failure, not some snarled threat from his father.

He snorted. I'd give anything to be back training with him and Damon now. At least they never wanted to kill me.

Without even realising, he was pacing again, circling the cell, a true caged animal. The jolting pain was strangely welcoming. Somehow, fighting through the pain to walk comforted him far more than if he'd given in to it and sat down on the stone once more.

An earsplitting crash made him stumble to a halt, bending over and pressing his ears against his head. The sound stopped as abruptly as it had begun, no rubble following it to rain down on him. Frowning, he turned around slowly, and saw yet another Shadewylf stood just outside his prison. A corridor stretched behind him, though without getting any closer, Toivo couldn't see where it led.

Sinking into a crouch, he hissed at the wolf. They didn't even flinch.

"Attack me, Toivo," the wolf said slowly, making Toivo's ears prick with recognition, "and I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day."

"Perhaps I'd prefer that, Deimos," he growled back, though he let his muscles relax. The threat had been half-hearted, anyway. The time for fighting had passed.

With a shrug, Deimos slipped through the gap in the wall that the crash had opened and paced a semi-circle around him. Toivo resumed his own pacing, so that together they formed a full rounded shape, remaining opposite each other as they moved.

"Did you do that?" Toivo asked quietly, flicking his tail towards the wide crack. It was supposed to come out demanding, but his voice faltered.

Deimos paused, though his paws kept stepping. "Oh, the rock?" he said after a moment of thought. "No, that was Faye. Our Glitterwylf comrade." He chuckled. "You really do know so little about what you are."

"I know enough," Toivo said tightly. "I can feel the evil inside me." It felt strange to admit it, but he hoped it worked as an attack on Deimos too. This was a wolf who'd given in to that fear. "But I won't be like you. I don't want to use it."

"The evil?" This time, Deimos' chuckle was a full laugh, enough to make him stop pacing. Toivo stopped as well, head tipping to the side. "That's just Shadow, Toivo. It feels the same as any Pelt power - Thunder, Aire, you name it." He flashed his fangs in a grin. "Well, not quite the same, you're right. Shadow is different. But it's that difference that makes us special - and the most powerful."

Growling, Toivo shook his head. "I don't want to be special. Not in this way."

Deimos just sighed. "You can't change who you are, Toivo." His eyes flashed. "In fact, your power seems rather strong. Not only exerting such a deep fear, but able to manipulate it enough so that I couldn't track its source? I have to say, I am rather impressed."

"I just wanted you to go away." Toivo was grinding out the words now, his heart racing, hind legs tensed and ready to pounce. He was fighting the urge to strike down this evil wolf, the wolf that could have killed Lexi if he hadn't got there in time. "I wanted to save Lexi. Instead that power got to her too." Taking a deep breath, he tried to draw himself up, aware of how small his crouch made him. "I never want to use it again."

"But you will. The Shadow doesn't like being trapped." A smile curved Deimos' snout. "How is Lexi, by the way? Send her my love - oh yes, I forgot. You're never going to see her again."

That was it. With a snarling cry, Toivo pushed upwards, ready to stretch out his claws.

But all his body did was stumble.

Something raked his heart, chilling his fiery rage, freezing his paws. His breathing suddenly sounded so much louder. Gasping, he stared at Deimos' bright eyes, feeling himself shrink in terror.

He was just a pup. What could he do against such a powerful opponent?

It took him several frozen seconds before he realised what Deimos was doing. But even then he couldn't fight it. Everything the fear whispered in his mind was true.

"But this is what makes me powerful," Deimos said. "I can control the Shadow, use it for my own wills, whenever I choose. And so much more efficiently."

Toivo didn't have an answer. He searched for the same feeling he'd gotten when the hunters came, or when the Icewylf attacked him. But Deimos masked it all. How could he fight this? He didn't even know how it worked.

But I have to try.

"You're just a small, helpless little pup, aren't you?" Deimos' voice was a jeering whisper, mocking, growing louder as he crept closer. "How could you ever think you could be a hero? You're nothing but a failure."

Failure. It echoed within him, matching another voice, one that constantly probed from his memories. Just another failure.

Deep in his heart, something trembled, close to breaking.

"You've failed everyone," Deimos continued, snout incredibly close, eyes bright and harsh as the sun. "Your parents. The Twilytra. Everyone who trusted you." Leaning sideways, he placed his fangs right beside Toivo's ear, hissing out the final taunt.

"You even failed Lexi."

It snapped.

In an instant, Deimos' fear was forced away, vanishing as Toivo's own power burst from its cage. It curled around everything, shadow coiling throughout the room, wild and free.

Deimos fell to the floor, anguish etched out in every crease of his snout. And Toivo revelled in it.

He was no failure here. His power was strongest. After all the time he'd spent longing for power, he finally had it, and all he had to do was let it loose.

Until he looked at Deimos again.

It wasn't just fear in those shining eyes. It was pure, wrenching pain. He writhed, whimpers slipping from his snout. Cries for him to stop.

An ache pressed into Toivo's chest. He let it force him down, stumbling to the floor. But, as much as he yanked, he couldn't pull the Shadow back. It didn't want to be caged again. It wanted to be free.

Deimos cried louder, pleading words blending into one fluid yell. But Toivo couldn't stop it. He was frozen again - but this time, it was his own doing.

"Luna," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Luna, make it stop. Please. Make me stop."

Whether it was coincidence, or truly the work of a goddess, he would never know.

Another coil of Shadow pierced his heart, making his own power faulter. In that instant, he pulled as hard as he could, and the other Shadow aided him, controlling in the way he couldn't.

The cries faded, replaced by Deimos gasping. The room seemed to light again, any dark presence slipping away. And finally, Toivo felt the Shadow settle back into his heart. He clutched it tight, caging it again, his whole chest throbbing furiously now.

Then everything fell still, and he collapsed.

All the energy had been sapped from him, leaving him empty, only able to lie there. Through blurring eyes, he watched Deimos rise shakily. His gaze was narrowed as he observed Toivo broken on the ground.

"You may be powerful," he said slowly, his words punctuated by rasping breaths, "but you have no control. That makes you dangerous, Toivo. Both to us, and to those wolves you call friends."

Toivo didn't have the ability to answer. He watched his fellow Shadewylf turn away from him and walk towards the parting in the rock, a slight limp making his step uneven. As he reached the corridor, he was stopped by another wolf. They exchanged a few whispered words, the nature of their mutterings impossible to make out over the insistent ringing in Toivo's ears, until eventually Deimos nodded and vanished into the corridor beyond.

The other wolf, however, remained. He approached gradually, his tail flicking from side to side like a snake's tongue, until he stood above Toivo, close enough for his grey eyes to become visible. They were truly grey, too. The stone-like colour wasn't something brought on by his night vision.

Trembles wracked Toivo's body. He'd gone from feeling so powerful to so vulnerable. The wolf's stare was flat, hard to make out, but he was sure it was analysing every bit of him.

This wolf didn't see the heroic facade he'd managed to hold onto since he'd first fought Deimos. Now, he showed what he truly was, what he had been when he'd run from the plaza - lost and afraid, barely in control of himself, destined to fail. Just a scared pup on a journey he wasn't fit for.

The silence dragged on so long that he found himself desperate to fill it in some way. "Just do it," he said, his voice descending into a whimper. "Kill me."

There was no reply.

"That's what you want to do, right?" His voice shook, but he held his gaze firm. "I'm dangerous. I'm a traitor. You're the bad guys. So just... just kill me and get it over with."

It was strange how this wolf's expression could change so much and yet remain unreadable. Even more strange was the way he was still silent, almost motionless, his only movement the sway of his tail.

"Just do it!" His voice rose to a shout as he jerked his head up, gaze not leaving the wolf's grey eyes. "Do it," he said again, quietly, ashamed of the pleading in his voice and yet not caring.

Lexi was probably already dead, as were the Twilytra he'd tried so hard to save. He couldn't be their hero. If he lived, his power would lead him to become a villain. He couldn't fight his true fate any longer.

Finally, the wolf's jaw parted. "You're wrong, Toivo."

"About what?" Toivo asked in a shaky whisper.

"About everything." Slowly, the wolf lowered himself to sit beside him. When Toivo remained still, he flicked his tail to gesture for him to do the same.

With a nod, Toivo rose, his limbs still trembling as he folded into a seated position. As he turned to look at the other wolf, he noticed that the gap in the rock behind him had sealed, the magic much more soundless this time. They were alone in the cell.

He made to say something else, but his throat closed on the words.

"You're not dangerous," the wolf said, whisper stiff but strangely comforting. "Well, perhaps you are now, but we can change that." He placed his paw over  one of Toivo's, covering it completely. "You are a very special wolf, Toivo, more than even you know."

"Why?" Toivo couldn't help but ask. There had to be a reason. The heroes in the stories always had one - descended from a god, gifted with a special potion, bitten by some otherworldly animal. None of that had ever happened to him.

Because I'm not a hero, he reminded himself, ears flattening.

The wolf smiled faintly. "Some other time. Right now, my soldiers are itching to kill you. But I won't let them do that, not yet." His tail settled against the stone as he held Toivo's gaze. "You're so young, Toivo, and so promising. It would be a waste of such special Shadow blood to kill you now, not before you've had the chance to redeem yourself."

Toivo hardened his gaze. "I won't join you."

"Because you think we are the villains." A silver glimmer danced in the wolf's eyes. "That is what you are so wrong about."

Opening his snout, Toivo made to object. In the stories, they always were, and he knew those stories didn't come from nothing. Lexi had talked about history so much, and he knew to listen to her when she began to speak about the old war.

Peace had just been beginning to settle when the Shadewylves had risen, demanding to rule over Sylvera, claiming just as Deimos had that they were the most powerful Pelt. It may well have been true, because the documents told of many moons before the other nine Pelts had managed to force them into surrender, sending them to hide in Nefaris indefinitely. The old generals had thought that leaving them there would result in them dying out one day. Clearly they had been wrong.

But then he closed his snout again. That was the past, tales of long ago. He remembered Harisah's friendly smile, and the strange comfort he'd found within Evania's searching gaze. If they hadn't worn black Pelts, he would have considered them quite ordinary; perhaps even friends. Not one part of their behaviours matched what he'd read in the stories.

Neither, he realised as he looked up, did this wolf before him. Those grey eyes, though as blank as stone, weren't out to get him. They wanted to help him, to make him into the hero he should be. The sort of look he'd wished to one day draw from his father, uncovered from beneath the flame-filled rage.

When the wolf turned those eyes away from him, staring instead beyond the dark walls of this cave and into a distance unreachable, Toivo didn't say anything. He only listened.

"There was once a time, Toivo, when Shadewylves lived among the other ten Pelts. We called it peace then, but it was far from peaceful. The conflict was always there - it just wasn't quite as obvious to those that did not suffer it." He released a heavy sigh. "We were still the villains to them, even as their neighbours, their friends... sometimes even family."

Something flickered behind the wolf's stony mask. His ears twitched, folding downwards only the slightest amount. When Toivo shifted closer, he could make out a faraway glimmer in the wolf's dark eyes. Then he seemed to catch himself, eyes flicking to Toivo before the emotion was ripped from his expression.

"A group of Shadewylves came together to fix this," the wolf continued, his tone hollow once more. "They began fighting for Shadewylf rights, and for the discrimination to end. Some may have gotten a little violent in their protest, yes, but most meant no harm. All they wanted was equality." His gaze slid over to view Toivo again. "That was what resulted in war. Not a bloodthirst or a desperation to rule. Nothing but honour and desire for an equal society."

"But the Shadewylves still declared war," Toivo argued before he'd even fully thought it through. Even when he thought of Evania once more, the idea of peaceful Shadewylves fighting only for a better world felt wrong to him. "Whether it was honourable at first or not, war is never right."

The wolf slowly shook his head. "It was what we were driven to. All our protests resulted in was more hatred. We had nothing left to lose."

Yet it still wasn't right. Toivo knew that. But he also understood, more than he ever could have as a Peltless. He felt the Shadow slither within its tight cage, wild, always longing for freedom. He knew he was just the same. If he were constricted by a society that hated him for what he was, even living beside them, he knew his actions may well have been the same.

"You're not evil," he realised, speaking the words aloud so that every part of him could hear that he believed them. "You just wanted to be free."

A small smile pulled at the wolf's snout, brief but meaningful. "That we did."

In the pause that followed, something finally clicked in Toivo's mind, making his head snap up suddenly. Something was off about the way it was phrased, and now he realised exactly what. "We. You're talking like you were there yourself."

Unexpectedly, the wolf chuckled. "You are perceptive, young Toivo. What you speak is true - I was there." He allowed Toivo's stunned expression to settle before continuing. "Does the name Montasir mean anything to you?"

If it had only been said in passing, the memory would have brushed Toivo by. But when he thought hard, testing the name as he whispered it aloud and recalling the fear it induced in its hissing nature, he realised that he did know it.

"General Montasir," he breathed. "The only Shadewylf general left at the end of the war."

"That's me." His grey eyes shone.

"But... how are you still alive? It's been decades!" Toivo was on his paws now, eyes wide, claws dancing across the stone. This really was the Montasir, a wolf he'd come to think of as merely a character from a story long ago.

Suddenly, all he could think of was how excited Lexi would be at this discovering, and how many theories she would be blurting out now. He had nothing but blank astonishment.

"All in good time, Toivo," the wolf - Montasir - said calmly, lifting a paw and lowering it to gesture for him to sit. "It is not the sort of secret I would confide in a traitor." His eyes narrowed, a sharp reminder of Toivo's position in this.

Bending his head, he sat again, avoiding Montasir's gaze. Because he didn't want to see the pointed glower fixed on him, and also simply to not lay eyes on the fearsome General Montasir once more.

The historical documents had told of the death that lurked within his eyes. Even with the kindness this wolf was showing him, Toivo didn't want to look again and find truth in those words.

The sound of Montasir rising to his paws lifting his eyes sooner than he'd been planning. "I'll leave you now," he said. "Someone will visit you later."

Toivo's mind was reeling. The influx of information had already sent it racing at impossible speeds, and now he could barely stagger to his paws with his head spinning the way it was. Couldn't the world just slow down for a bit and let him catch up?

He barely processed the idea of being left alone again until Montasir was almost at the sealed opening. "Wait," he called, his voice faltering but thankfully loud enough to serve its purpose.

Montasir turned, not fully, but enough for night vision to catch the gleam of his grey eyes. He waited.

"Montasir," Toivo said, the name sliding with a hiss from his tongue and perfectly fitting the wolf he spoke it to, "why did you tell me all of that?"

Turning completely, Montasir took a step back towards him. "Because I want you to know the truth, Toivo," he said, his eyes hard in their sincerity. "I cannot bring myself to kill you." He released a quiet sigh. "But I'm sure that one of my soldiers will sneak in here and do it eventually."

Toivo's heart turned cold. After all of that, he was going to die anyway.

Yet, strangely, he felt no fear at that thought. After all, only a short time ago he'd been pleading with Montasir for death. Now the coldness was dull disappointment; a sadness that even the truth changed nothing.

In the silence, Montasir made to turn away again. In just a few moments, the cell would be empty once more. He didn't want that. Something hardened within Toivo, pushing out the second call of, "No, wait!"

Lexi had always told him that if nothing changed, you had to change it yourself. If no-one stepped in, the world would just continue its course, until it was too late to turn back. Right now, Toivo saw the meaning of those words more than ever.

For all of his life, he'd wished for something better. Power, care, trust. The capability for greatness. If he let Montasir go, he realised that all of that would be slipping through his claws, gone forever.

You can live as Thirty-Four, something whispered within him, strong and purposeful, and hide amongst fear and stretched loyalties. Or you can live as Toivo. Grasp the opportunity. Let the power you wanted so badly lead the way.

Toivo met Montasir's eyes from across the room. The Shadow thrummed inside him, and for once he welcomed it, letting that hum of power settle in the blue of his eyes.

"I can't let that happen," he said, voice firmer than he'd ever heard it. "I won't die, not like this."

Montasir's head tilted to the side. "And just how will you stop it?"

"By following the truth." Toivo took a step forward. His paw stood out against the rock, a similar colour but far darker. Black as night.

Everything he'd been, everything he'd believed as a Peltless was no longer true. He saw that. The innocent world the leafy forests of Borealton had caressed him with was gone now. The world was a harsher place than that. Instead of shying from it, it was time to embrace it.

He focused hard on the coil of Shadow. I choose to be Toivo.