Once, Yaroslav was a weapon - the Volkodlak, wolf-skin of the king, oath-bound and blood-marked. He broke what needed breaking.
He served a crown forged in conquest, and watched peace come at the edge of a blade. When the Isles were finally bound by fire and salt, he walked away. Seven years in exile. A hall of pine above the cliffs. No sword raised. No voice lifted. Only silence, sea-wind, and the ache of hands turned to honest work. But peace does not keep what war has claimed.
Now the king is dying. The queen calls him back - to find what should have stayed buried, and bear a burden no man should carry. A royal campaign to quash rebellion conceals the deeper mission: Yaroslav is to recover the relics of Saint Ilyin, martyr of fire.
But the fire does not save.
In the Broken Isles, the dead still speak. The sea waits. And judgement comes for all - oath-keepers and oath-breakers alike.