“Old man…”The mockery that usually dripped from Varohn’s voice was gone now, stripped clean and replaced with something darker—steel wrapped in impatience. His grin had faded entirely and his face sharpened like a blade being drawn from a sheath. He pulled his brows low then stalked a step closer, crunching his boots on the gritty floor.He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes on Sahrak as if trying to peel him open with just a look. “Did I hear you correctly?” His words were quiet, deliberate and every syllable was laced with a promise that whatever came next wouldn’t be pleasant.Sahrak didn’t blink. His stance didn’t shift. The air between them felt hot and thick with unspoken challenges. “I’m sure you didn’t hear wrong,” he said with a flat stone voice.The words hung in the still air, heavy enough to make even the hulking guards shift their weight.Varohn paused, silent for a moment, working his jaw and twitching the muscles at his temple. Slowly, his head turned—not away from S

Serakai tilted her head, knitting her brows, as suspicion flickered behind her eyes. “That’s… weird,” she muttered almost to herself under her breath. The feeling of familiarity still clung to her like a phantom hand on her shoulder, and it unnerved her more than she cared to admit.Sahrak exhaled slowly, then shifted his gaze to the soldier who’d helped him moments before. The old man’s voice lowered to a calm but urgent whisper. “I’ll need you to give me a little space, just a little bit still close.”The young soldier hesitated for only a breath before nodding, scooting back just enough to clear a patch of rough wooden floor. Everyone in the cage glanced his way now, sensing a subtle but sharp change in the air, like the faint tang of lightning before a storm.Sahrak lifted one weathered hand, steadying his index finger as a flame curled to life on its tip. At first, it flickered small and harmless—but then it condensed, tightening in on itself, sharpening a sizzling ember into the

The fire flickered, twisting erratically like it wasn’t sure what it wanted to be. Kaelen gritted his teeth as sweat ran down his neck and the heat from his flames seared close to his skin.“Come on…” he growled through clenched teeth, pressing harder, feeding everything—his frustration, his stubbornness, his ridiculous determination—into the flame. The air vibrated faintly around him, crackling and building the heat.And then—just for a split second—the wild blaze in his hand stretched, bent, shaped itself into a faint outline of the weapon in his mind. A baton, glowing white-blue at its edges, flickering like it might disappear any second.Kaelen’s eyes snapped open, widened in shock, and slipped a breathless laugh out of him. “Oh… oh… that's it,” he whispered.But just as quickly as it formed, the flame trembled violently, spitting out unstable sparks, like it was one heartbeat away from exploding in his hand.Kaelen gripped it tighter, refusing to let go, darting his gaze to the

Kaelen blew out a shaky breath, with his slick sweaty palms and a heart pounding so hard it felt like his ribs were a drum. The opening above stared down at him like a challenge he had no business accepting, but he wasn't the kind of guy who knew when to quit."Okay…" he muttered, with a low but steady voice, almost as if saying it out loud made it real. His gaze shifted to the horse standing patiently nearby, as its dark eyes reflected a quiet trust that Kaelen didn’t feel he deserved.“All I need to do…” he started, then paused, pressing his lips into a thin line before he forced another breath past his teeth, “…is to gently raise you… Just a few feet.” He glanced back up at the jagged opening, snorting a half-laugh that sounded more like disbelief than humor. “Shouldn't be that difficult,” he added, wearing a nervous grin that fooled neither himself nor the horse.He approached slowly, laying a steadying hand on the horse’s mane, feeling the warmth of its breath brush against hi

The tension in the tent could’ve been sliced with a blunt dagger.Rokhen’s voice came low and sharp. “What is it, my young friend?” His eyes never left the wide-eyed soldier bent double near the tent entrance.The young soldier, in dust-streaked tin-plated armor who had been clinking with every breath, finally straightened. His chest heaved as sweat rolled in lines down his temple. Still catching his breath, he nodded slightly before blurting it out in a rush of guilt and urgency.“Just a while ago—at the watch gate—we saw a streak, something dark, broody and unnatural, shoot up into the sky. Straight up.” He paused, visibly uncomfortable, flicking his eyes down to the floor like a kid caught sneaking food.“At first,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “we didn’t think much of it. We thought it was... I don’t know, maybe some illusion. A trick of the heat. You know how the desert messes with your head when it’s hot enough to cook your thoughts.”He gave a short, shameful c