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Chapter 10: Serenya’s Vision
“You cannot outrun the stars, princess,” the voice whispered, soft and resonant, from the shimmering heart of a secluded grove near Serenya Nightfall’s exile camp in the Ashen Peaks.“Your blood calls to the Gates and the Stormbearer draws near.”Serenya Nightfall froze, her hand tightening on the silver star pendant at her throat, its runes warm against her skin. The grove was a sanctuary, its gnarled trees draped with vines that glowed faintly under the storm’s distant lightning.Her breath caught, her dark hair tangled with ash, her emerald eyes scanning the shadows. The voice wasn’t human, it came from the air itself, a celestial hum that stirred the grove’s leaves. The crescent moon and thorn dagger, a warning from her scouts about the Veilborn, lay sheathed at her side, a reminder of the fanatics hunting her blood.Kael Dorian, the Stormbearer, was close, his name whispered in her camp since the Royal Decree’s arrival. The fire drakes’ screeches last night, echoing from the Peak
Chapter 9: The Fire Drakes’ Lair
The air was thick with sulfur, the pass’s jagged walls looming under a sky torn by storm clouds. Kael’s dark eyes scanned the darkness, catching the flicker of leathery wings high above, their silhouettes lit by distant lightning. The crescent-moon-and-thorn dagger, taken from Veilborn assassins in Skalvir, burned in his belt, a reminder of the hunters on his trail.“You’re leading us into a death trap, Stormbearer,” Thalen Veyr hissed, his voice sharp and low, from the shadowed edge of a treacherous mountain pass in the Ashen Peaks.“Those wings aren’t birds they’re drakes, and they don’t hunt alone.”Kael Dorian pulled his black mare to a halt, her hooves scraping on volcanic rock that glowed faintly with residual heat. The Stormreaver Blade pulsed with a sickly green glow beneath its leather sheath, its whispers clawing at his mind. Draw me. Burn them.Thalen’s reluctant alliance, forged in the cave after his failed assassination attempt, was still untested, but his warning about t
Chapter 8: Reluctant Alliance
"You have a death wish, Stormbearer," Thalen Veyr muttered, his voice low and bitter, from the shadowed depths of a hidden cave in the Glass Deserts’ foothills."Keeping me alive is a mistake the Veilborn will not forgive." Kael’s dark turned to Thalen, who sat bound with rope, his wrists raw, his curved blade confiscated and lying near Kael’s feet. The crescent-moon-and-thorn dagger, taken from Veilborn assassins in Skalvir, burned in Kael’s belt, a reminder of the hunters on his trail.Thalen’s failed ambush in the canyon had confirmed the Veilborn’s desperation, their plan to use the blade and Serenya Nightfall’s blood to awaken the Celestial Gates for a divine reckoning. This cave, tucked beneath a cliff in the foothills, was no safe haven, and Thalen’s words carried a weight Kael could not ignore."Start talking," Kael said, his voice rough with exhaustion, barely rising above the distant storm’s rumble.His cloak was heavy with rain, his face stung by desert dust, but his hand
Chapter 7: Assassin’s Shadow
The wind howled through the Glass Deserts, dragging ribbons of ash and sand across the jagged dunes. Night hung heavy, torn by streaks of lightning that split the bruised sky.Somewhere in that storm, Kael Dorian rode alone, his black mare weaving between shards of glass that jutted from the earth like broken stars. The air crackled with the taste of metal and rain, the storm pressing close like a living thing.Unseen eyes watched him from the ridge above.Thalen Veyr crouched low behind a ridge of obsidian, cloak drawn tight, his breathing steady despite the cold. The Veilborn’s message had been clear: Kill the Stormbearer before he reaches the Ashen Peaks.The coin had been enough to buy a man’s silence, even his soul, and Thalen had sold both more than once. But this time felt different. The bounty was heavy, the target dangerous, and something about the blade on Kael’s back set his instincts on edge.Lightning flashed. For an instant, Kael’s profile was clear, strong, scarred and
Chapter 6: Whispers of the Gods
Kael Dorian halted, his black mare snorting as shards of glass crunched beneath her hooves, the Stormreaver Blade pulsing with a sickly green glow under its leather sheath.“You carry death, Stormbearer,” the voice rasped, thin and brittle, from the crumbling shrine’s shadowed altar, its words slicing through the storm’s howl on the Glass Deserts’ edge.“The Veilborn will never let you keep it.”The speaker was barely visible, a hunched figure draped in tattered robes, standing before a cracked stone altar etched with faded runes. The shrine, half-swallowed by sand and time, stood alone in the desolate expanse, its walls scarred by wind and lightning. Kael’s cloak snapped in the gale, rain stinging his face, his hand hovering over the hilt.The crescent-moon-and-thorn dagger, taken from the Veilborn assassins in Skalvir, burned in his belt, a reminder of the hunters trailing him. He’d left Skalvir with Gavren’s warning ringing in his ears—the Veilborn’s apocalyptic vision of a world r
Chapter 5: Tempest’s Call
“You’re a dead man, Stormbearer,” the voice hissed, low and venomous, from the shadowed cleft of a cliffside cave overlooking Skalvir’s churning sea. “The Veilborn know your every step.”Kael Dorian froze, his boots crunching on the gravel-strewn ledge, the Stormreaver Blade pulsing with a sickly green glow beneath its leather sheath. The speaker was hidden in the cave’s darkness, their words sharp against the storm’s roar and the waves crashing below. His hand hovered over the hilt, instincts honed by years of blood and betrayal screaming that this was no idle threat. The crescent-moon-and-thorn dagger, taken from the Veilborn assassins in Skalvir’s alleys, burned in his belt, its symbol a constant reminder of the hunters on his trail. He’d come to this secluded cliff to plan his route to the Ashen Peaks, seeking solitude after the ambush, but Skalvir offered no refuge. This voice knew his name, his purpose, and it wasn’t alone.“Show yourself,” Kael called, his voice rough with slee
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