FORGED IN SCRAPS ARIA POV

The first week blurred into fever and hunger.

My calf throbbed like a second heart under the crude bandage. Infection set in fast.

Rhea’s healer, a gaunt woman named Lira who smelled of bitter herbs and resentment, cleaned it once a day with something that burned worse than the wound itself.

She never spoke to me. She just worked with her lips pressed thin, as though touching Hollow blood might taint her.

Food came in portions so small they mocked the word. A strip of dried venison, a handful of pine nuts, and watery broth from bones boiled until they gave up all flavor.

The rogues ate in silence around the fires with their eyes darting to anyone who took more than their share.

I learned quickly that taking too long to chew meant someone would growl that I was wasting what little they had.

Mira stayed close. She gave me half her rations when no one watched.

She slept between me and the tent flap with her knife under her pillow. But even she grew thinner. Shadows carved deeper under her eyes.

When I tried to thank her, she shook her head. “Save your breath for fighting, little wolf. Words do not fill bellies here.”

Rhea watched us like a hawk watches rabbits.She assigned me tasks meant to break me.

I hauled water up the ridge with my bad leg. I stood at night watch in the freezing wind. I scouted the lower trails alone.

The first time I limped back empty-handed after following a false trail, the scarred male named Varek laughed low. “See? She is soft as fresh snow. Draven would have gutted her in seconds.”

I wanted to snap back. Instead I clenched the pendant until the edges cut my palm and kept walking.

Nights were worse. Sleep brought the village back.

I saw firelight on Mama’s blood-slick hands.I heard Papa’s last roar. I felt the spear pinning them together.

I woke up gasping with my claws half-extended before I remembered to breathe again.

The camp stirred every time. Growls rippled from nearby tents. Someone muttered “weakling” loud enough to carry.

Mira pulled me close those nights. She did not speak. She just held on until the shaking stopped.

Weeks turned into months. The snow melted into mud and then refroze into treacherous ice.

My leg healed crooked but strong enough to run short distances. I started training with Mira again. We practiced knife throws against tree trunks. We wrestled in the snow until bruises bloomed like dark flowers.

One frost-bitten morning Rhea called me to the central fire.

She tossed a rusted short blade at my feet. The metal rang against the stone.

“Spar with Varek,” she said. “No shifting. Whoever draws the First blood ends it.”

Varek grinned with his fangs showing. He was bigger and older.

His scars told stories of many fights. I had dreamed for months of hurting something that was not myself, but dreams do not teach you how to win.

He walked in a slow circle around me and looked me up and down. Then he laughed, loud and mean.

“Look at you, little Hollow princess,” he said. “Still crying for your dead mama and papa? They died like cowards, didn’t they? Begging while Draven pinned them together like meat on a stick.”

My stomach twisted. My hands shook on the knife handle.

He kept talking. “Your father thought he was strong with his big staff. Your mother danced with her shiny dagger. But they both fell fast. Weak blood. No wonder Draven wiped your whole pack out in one night. You’re the last weak one left.”

The camp watched. No one spoke.

Something inside me snapped. Heat rushed up my throat. I screamed at him, raw and loud.

“Shut up!"I yelled

The sound tore out of me like a howl. Everyone froze for a second.

Varek smirked wider. “Oh, the princess has a—”

“You have no right to speak about them!” I yelled over him. “No right at all!”

The words burned my throat. My vision turned red. The anger swallowed everything else.

He lunged. His fist hit my jaw hard. Stars burst in my eyes and I stepped back. Pain spread across my face.

I tasted blood. The screams had lit a fire inside me. The anger burned hotter now.

He swung again. I ducked and rammed my shoulder into his stomach.

He grunted but stayed on his feet. His elbow came down hard on my back. Air left my lungs. I dropped to one knee.

Varek stepped close. “Stay down, princess. Your parents couldn’t win. You can’t either.”

I looked up at him. I pushed up fast and tackled him around the waist.

We fell hard into the snow. He was heavier, but I was angrier. I drove my knee into his side once. Then again.

He snarled and pushed me off.

We got up. He came at me. I moved left like I would strike, then dropped low and kicked his legs out. He stumbled. I jumped forward and slashed the blade across his forearm. Blood came out in a straight line.

I should have backed off. The rule was first blood.

But I couldn’t stop.

The red in my eyes stayed. I lunged again. I aimed higher for his throat this time.

My blade flashed toward his neck. Varek twisted at the last second.

The edge of the knife caught his cheek instead. Fresh blood sprayed. He roared in pain and surprise.

I kept coming. I slashed again. He blocked with his arm.

The knife bit deep into his forearm. More blood. He staggered back.

“Stop!” Rhea’s voice cracked like thunder across the snow.

I froze mid-swing. My chest heaved. My hand shook on the knife. Blood dripped from the blade onto the ground.

Rhea stepped forward. Her amber eyes locked on mine. She said nothing more. Just stared until I lowered the knife slowly.

Varek wiped blood from his cheek and forearm with his sleeve. He stepped back, breathing hard. He looked at me for a long second.

“Not bad, Hollow girl,” he said. His voice was low and rough.

The camp stayed quiet.

Rhea gave me one last hard look. Then she nodded once, small and sharp.

“You live another day,” she said and walks away

That winter I overheard the plan.

Rhea’s voice stayed low at the big fire. “Draven’s supply lines are stretched. There’s a cache two ridges east: weapons, silver ore, preserved meat. We hit it or we starve by spring.”

I gripped the pendant so hard I felt the tiny stars press bruises into my skin.

I am nineteen now. The girl who had tumbled down the ravine was gone. In her place stood someone sharper, colder, and hungrier.

Rhea caught my eye across the circle. “You want in, Hollow girl?”

“Yes.” I responded

She studied me for a long moment. “Then you lead point. Prove the rune wasn’t wasted.”

Three nights later we moved.

Five of us: Mira at my right shoulder, Varek at my left, Lira with her bitter herbs and a short bow, and two quiet hunters named Torren and Sable who had earned their place the hard way.

We ghosted through the pines like smoke. The air tasted of pine sap and distant smoke.

Underneath it lingered ice and old blood. Draven’s scent. My blood sang with it.

The cache sat in a shallow bowl between ridges: three log sheds ringed by a low palisade, two sentries pacing the perimeter, firelight flickering through cracks.

We waited until the moon slid behind clouds.

I signaled. Mira and Varek peeled left. Torren and Sable went right. Lira and I crept straight.

The first sentry never saw me. I came up behind him, clamped a hand over his mouth, and slid the knife under his ribs.

Hot blood spilled over my fingers. He stiffened and sagged. I lowered him silently.

The second sentry turned at the soft thud. Mira’s knife took him in the throat before he could shout.

We were inside.

The sheds smelled of oiled steel and salt-cured meat. We moved fast. We stuffed packs with crates of silver-tipped arrows, short swords, and iron ingots stamped with Draven’s mark.

Then the alarm horn screamed.

A third guard, hidden on the ridge, had spotted us.

Shouts erupted. Wolves howled in answer from the trees.

“Move!” I hissed.

We ran for the tree line. Arrows hissed past. One grazed Varek’s shoulder. He snarled but kept moving.

Behind us, half-shifted forms burst from the sheds. Three, then five. They closed fast.

Mira and I spun at the same moment. We dropped two with thrown knives.

The third reached us: massive, gray-furred, jaws wide.

I met him head-on. No thought, only instinct. I shifted and caught his throat mid-leap. We crashed together. Hot blood flooded my mouth. I tore at his throat.

He went limp.

The rest hesitated. That pause gave us time to vanish into the pines.

We ran until the howls faded.

Dawn found us back at the ridge. Our packs were heavy. Our bodies were painted in blood and frost.

Varek’s shoulder was torn but he was grinning. Lira patched him without comment.

Rhea waited at the central fire and inspected the haul. Silver ore glinted in the weak light. Blades would finally give us teeth worth baring.

She looked at me last.

“You brought them back,” she said. “And you brought steel.”

I wiped blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. My voice came out steady.

“This is just the beginning.”

Rhea’s lips curved. It was not quite a smile. “Then keep breathing long enough to finish it, Hollow girl.”

I looked east toward the endless ridges where the Ice Wolf waited.

The pendant rested warm against my chest, like Mama’s hand still cupping my cheek.

I wasn’t running anymore.

I was hunting.