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Author: Ayra Ruthie
last update2026-10-29 00:15:13

Running footsteps echoed through the narrow, smoke-filled alleyway.

Lira emerged from the yellow fog, her dark cloak torn and one hand pressed against her bleeding ribs. She stumbled over a broken stall, caught herself against the wall, and hurried into the square.

The battle was over.

Nineteen Rift Trackers lay scattered across the cobblestones. The ancient suppression grid had split the street open, leaving twisted brass conduits exposed among smoking stones. Drogo stood in the centre of the
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  • 127

    Kael's expression hardened, but he offered no answer to Lira's accusation. Instead, he turned his attention back to Eryx, as though the rest of the room no longer mattered."The array cannot be activated through brute force alone. It requires the High Overseer's spirit signature, together with a direct connection to the central control chamber. Without both, the reactors cannot be overloaded."Valen smiled, though there was nothing pleasant about it."Which is why he's going to activate it for me.""You're insane," Lira snapped."No." Valen glanced toward the windows. A damaged war galley drifted past the tower, its engines dark and its hull tilted dangerously to one side. "I'm the only person in this room who understands what's happening. The Vanguard is finished. Its fleet is gone, its control network has collapsed, and every dragon it ever claimed to own is turning against it. There's nothing left to restore. No army waiting for orders, and no institution capable of holding this ci

  • 126

    The grand staircase of the Central Spire had been built for ceremonies. Its pale stone steps curved through the heart of the tower, flanked by silver pillars carved with the names of the Vanguard's founders. Above them, the dark glass ceiling reflected artificial constellations that had once been used to track the city's spirit currents.For years, High Overseers and their councils had walked these steps before gatherings of soldiers, scholars, and other important figures. Their boots would echo through the tower while everyone watched them with respect, as though the people standing at the top of the staircase could never be brought down.There was no one to welcome them now.The staircase stood empty, and the lights overhead were going out. One by one, the silver constellations disappeared as the network beneath the Spire struggled to keep running. The darkness spread across the ceiling, leaving only a few faint lights behind.The entire tower felt different without the systems that

  • 125

    The Spire screamed.It was not the sound of stone breaking or metal twisting beneath pressure. It came from somewhere deeper, from the ancient foundations that had held the Vanguard’s power for centuries. The walls trembled. Silver runes flashed along the catacomb ceiling before vanishing, leaving only the pale violet glow of the mother-core.Eryx barely noticed.He was on his knees beside Drogo, struggling to draw a full breath. The Abyssal mark on his palm had stopped blazing, but its darkness remained, spreading beneath his skin like ink trapped in veins. Every heartbeat sent a dull ache through his fractured spirit-core.Drogo pressed his snout against his shoulder.Warmth passed through their bond, steady and reassuring. The dragon’s left wing had unfolded completely. Its damaged joints still trembled, but the frost was gone, replaced by a faint violet sheen that moved beneath the scales.Can you stand? Drogo asked through their connection.Eryx planted one hand against the stone

  • 124

    Eryx read the warning again.The mother-core’s violet pulse travelled through the chains and into the floor beneath his boots. Every time it beat, the map on the console flickered. The Spire’s towers glowed above it like candles waiting to be snuffed out.Destroy the core, and the Vanguard’s artificial runes would fail. The war drakes would be free of the commands buried in their bodies. But the energy imprisoned inside the core would tear through the old foundations and bring the whole structure down.Eryx lowered his sword.“No.” His voice barely carried. “Not like this.”Drogo’s eye narrowed, following him as he approached the pit. A thread of their shared bond pressed against Eryx’s thoughts. The dragon understood the danger. He also understood the choice Eryx was making.There may be no other way, Drogo warned.“There’s always another way.”It came out as a broken rasp. Eryx swallowed against the pain and looked again at the chains. The Vanguard had written the record to protect

  • 123

    The archway swallowed Eryx and Drogo into darkness.Behind them, silver cold fire thundered through the ruined courtyard. Valen was still trying to flush Eryx out of the wreckage, while the detached shadow fought above the bridge. Through their remaining soul-link, Eryx felt each distant strike as a sharp tug on his weakening spirit-core.The anchor was broken, but the connection remained.Every time the phantom unleashed its power, another thread of Eryx’s strength slipped away.He staggered deeper into the passage, one hand pressed against the wall. His injured shoulder throbbed, and the effort of keeping upright made his vision blur. Behind him, Drogo followed with uneven steps, his damaged wing dragging along the stone.The cold-fire had not simply frozen the wing's surface. It had seeped beneath the obsidian plates, locking the muscles and slowing the ancient fire moving through them. Drogo's breathing remained shallow, and every attempt to spread his wings ended in a painful shu

  • 122

    Dust filled the outer courtyard, carrying the smell of crushed granite and burnt sulfur. It drifted across the shattered archways, partially hiding the wreckage.Eryx lay against the base of a cracked marble pillar, twenty paces from where he and Drogo had struck the ground. Blood filled his mouth, and every breath scraped through his bruised lungs. His left shoulder hung at an unnatural angle, while sharp needles of pain flashed across his vision whenever he moved.Ten yards away, Drogo lay on his side among the rubble.The shadow dragon’s left wing was a ruin of shattered obsidian plates and glittering frost. Valen’s cold-fire had penetrated the joint, locking the flight muscles and leaving the wing rigid and useless. Drogo released ragged huffs of steam, his broad snout resting against the gravel as he struggled to push himself up with his right claws.Nearby, the detached spectral dragon circled his head. Its eight-foot body flickered at the edges, its violet eyes dimmer than befo

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