Deyar's breath came in
visible puffs
as he
swiped a forearm across his brow
, his muscles burning with exertion. The air around him
crackled with residual cold
, remnants of his last
glacial barrier
now reduced to
puddles and slush
underfoot.
He
should
have been the perfect counter to this invasion.
Years of
rigid discipline
—of waking before dawn to
freeze waterfalls mid-cascade
, of sculpting
ice bridges over molten rock
—had honed him into a
master of terrain control
. Against a horde? He could have
flooded the courtyard in permafrost
, trapping every last wolf in a
forest of frozen statues.
But now?
His Essentia
pooled shallow in his veins
, drained from hours of
clashing with Jyn
in their usual midnight spar. Across the battlefield, Jyn looked no better—his lightning
flickering weakly
between strikes, his usual
cocky smirk replaced by gritted teeth.
They still fought. Of course they did.
Deyar's
boot slid back
as a wolf lunged, his
dagger of ice forming a heartbeat too slow
—the blade
shattered on impact
, forcing him to
pivot and drive his knee
into the beast's ribs instead.
Jyn's spear of lightning
impaled another
, but the bolt
fizzled mid-air
, leaving the wolf
twitching but alive
—forcing a
second, messier strike.
Every movement was
calculated, conservative
, their usual
flamboyant techniques pared down
to brutal efficiency.
(Should've rested.
) Deyar thought bitterly, watching another wave emerge from the treeline.
(But where's the fun in that?)
Jyn’s fist
caved in a wolf’s skull
, the impact
sending cracks through its corrupted bone
. His lightning, usually
a storm contained in his veins
, now barely
flickered across his knuckles
—just enough to make the creature
jolt
, not enough to
fry it to ash.
"Okay…"
He sucked in a sharp breath,
kicking another beast back
.
"I
definitely
didn’t have ‘Corruption’ on my academy bingo card tonight."
Deyar’s ice spears
erupted from the ground
, their edges
razor-sharp but sluggish
, missing the lethal precision he was known for. A wolf
impaled itself through the shoulder
instead of the heart,
still snarling as it dragged itself forward.
"We should’ve stopped when we saw those weapon-crazed students,"
Deyar muttered,
wiping frost from his brow
. His Essentia was
running on fumes
, each spear
smaller than the last.
Jyn
barked a laugh
, though there was no humor in it.
"Yeah,
that
was our first clue this wasn’t just some dumb rebellion."
Deyar’s jaw tightened. They’d expected
chaos
. Maybe even
bloodshed
. But
this
?
The barrier falling.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Corruption spreading like a plague.
It made no sense. For years, the Corruption had been
dormant
, contained to the
blighted wastelands of Solaris
a graveyard kingdom
no one dared touch.
And now it was
here
.
Breathing down their necks.
The infirmary hallway
should have been safe
.
Elliot’s arm
hooked under Lyris’ uninjured shoulder
, supporting her weight as they moved. Her breath came in
shallow hitches
, the fabric around her wound
sodden and dark
.
Then—
snarls erupted from the shadows.
Wolves
poured from side corridors
, their
violet-veined muscles
twitching under mangy fur.
Elliot
shoved Lyris behind him
, his body
crackling to life
with arcs of blue-white lightning.
(Where the hell did these come from?)
His fist
smashed forward
, a
Thunder-Strike
so concentrated it
pierced clean through the first wolf’s skull
—then
kept going
,
impaling two more in a grisly line
. The smell of
ozone and burnt flesh
filled the air.
(Corrupted animals…)
His mind raced.
(Only read about these in histories of the Corruptor Era.)
A memory
flashed—Stoneveil’s labs
, the Circle’s
twisted experiments on humans
.
(Did they try it on beasts too?)
(And worse… did it
work
?)
Behind him, Lyris
gripped her injured arm
, fingers trembling.
"Elliot, I can—"
"You’re injured."
His voice left
no room for argument
, even as he
pivoted
, his next strike
caving in a wolf’s ribcage
.
Lyris
watched
, her lips parting slightly.
(I knew he was strong… but this—?)
Every movement was
brutal precision
, his lightning domain
never wavering
, his breaths
still even
. The wolves
fell like wheat before a scythe
.
(He lives up to the stories… and then some.)
Elliot's internal lightning
crackled one final time
, searing through the last wolf's skull. The creature
collapsed—again
—its body
twitching unnaturally
even in death.
This was the
second time
he'd put them down.
And they'd
still gotten back up
.
"They're sending a message,"
Elliot muttered, his voice
low and grim
. His eyes tracked the
violet veins
pulsing sluggishly in the wolves' corpses.
"Letting the world know exactly what they can do now."
Lyris stepped closer, her injured arm
cradled against her chest
.
"So the Circle of Ourothan
is
real,"
she murmured.
"I thought they were just a cult—some fanatics who vanished when the Corruptor fell."
Elliot's jaw tightened.
"Yeah."
A beat of silence.
"I've... encountered them before."
He didn't elaborate. Didn’t mention that Towan and him almost died a couple times against them.
Sylra
blurred through the academy grounds
, her feet barely touching the earth as
wind coiled around her like a second skin
. The labyrinthine halls would’ve slowed her down—so she
cut straight through the training yard
, where the open space usually meant
uninterrupted speed
.
But tonight, the yard was
a slaughterhouse.
Wolves
packed the dirt field
, their matted fur bristling with unnatural energy, violet veins
pulsing beneath their skin like infected roots
.
(Where the hell did all these come from?!)
Her hand
slashed sideways
, and a
scythe of wind split the pack in two
, sending
limbs and gore spraying across the sand
. Another flick of her wrist, and a
gale-force kick shattered a wolf’s skull mid-leap
, the impact
echoing like a cannon shot
.
(This isn’t right.)
She wasn’t struggling. Far from it. Every movement was
lethal grace
, her wind
carving through corrupted flesh like parchment
. But for every beast she felled,
three more seemed to emerge from the dark
.
(Too many. Too damn many.)
A
vicious pivot
, and another
cyclone of blades erupted around her
, reducing a charging wave to
chunks of meat
.
(I’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.)
Her eyes darted toward the distant dorms building—
where she needed to be
—then back to the
endless tide of fangs and fury
.
A sharp exhale.