Daine blinked, feeling the abrupt shift of light and air against her skin.
Gone was the stifling darkness of the Dark God’s realm; instead, she found herself standing on a slope that overlooked a shimmering expanse of blue-green sea, a view that took her breath away even in her disoriented state.
They were on the slopes of the Bloodspires, rough mountain ridges that towered above them, their peaks serrated and dusted with white, like the jagged edge of a great blade. Clusters of crimson wildflowers clung to the rocky terrain, stark against the grey stone, as if the mountains themselves had bled into bloom.
Below them lay a city sprawling along the cliffs with an elegance that bordered on myth, carved from pale sandstone and gleaming marble that glowed warmly under the midday sun.
Daine knew this place immediately—a familiar thrill rose within her as she took in the sight of it. She had been here three times before on her Tour, each visit a decade apart, each time finding it grander, more ornate, a jewel on the western coast. Velasir was one of the great Cities of the West, yes, but somehow more—a city built to be legendary. To inspire awe.
Yet today, something felt off, something slightly misaligned, and it pulled at her senses like an itch she couldn’t scratch.
The heart of the city was its castle, Alamadris, a fortress that was somehow both palace and dream. It rose from the centre of Velasir, its towers reaching skyward, carved from ochre stone that caught and held the sun like trapped fire. Patterns etched along the walls were intricate and layered—the winding vines and sinuous floral motifs gave way to fierce beasts, mythical creatures captured mid-roar and warriors frozen in moments of triumph and rage.
She’d walked the halls of Alamadris herself, felt its carved stonework under her fingers, touched the glinting fretwork lattices that framed each grand entrance. She’d even once stood under its vaulted dome, where a stunning mosaic of a long-forgotten battle spread in glimmering tiles across the ceiling.
But she’d never seen the castle’s gates barred, nor the strange flag that now fluttered above its walls, a bold crimson that replaced the familiar sigils of Velasir.
The towers, domed and grand, were capped with copper spires, burnished to deep green by time and the salt air. Each spire stretched toward the heavens, ending in gilded points that pierced the very sky. Between these towers, archways and arcades gave way to terraces softened by climbing roses. Stained glass windows, inlaid with patterns of stars and vines, cast beams of crimson, sapphire, and emerald across the pale paving stones, dappled rainbows spilling into the courtyards below. Silken banners of rich emerald and midnight blue hung from the highest battlements, their long lengths fluttering in the breeze, though the crimson flag above them stood still, unyielding.
The gardens of Alamadris cascaded down the terraces in tiers, ripe with citrus trees and flowering shrubs that mingled with the heady scent of sea salt on the air. Polished marble paths wound like rivers through the lush greenery, leading to fountains where crystalline water leaped high, sparkling with sunlight, droplets catching the light and scattering it across the gardens. Below the cliffs, the sea stretched out, a vast, shimmering expanse that met the land in gentle waves, turning the horizon to a mirror of light.
Eliud stood beside her, his own gaze taking in the grandeur, though he looked uneasy. “How did we get here?” he said.
They all turned to Genoes, who raised his hands in exasperated defence. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t launch the portal!”
Josul, the massive, shaggy hound, bounded forward, leaping on him with a delighted bark, licking his face with the enthusiasm only a hound could muster. Genoes laughed, despite himself, fending off the affectionate onslaught.
Savage the cat sniffed the air, unimpressed, before leaping gracefully onto Kirstin’s shoulder, her tail swishing as she surveyed the city with feline scrutiny.
Donal, however, seemed more disturbed, his brows furrowed as he looked from Daine to Alamadris below. “That was like no sending I’ve ever felt before.”
The group’s eyes fell on Daine, who merely shrugged, suppressing her own disquiet.
But before she could say anything, a deep, resonant sound cut through the air, jolting them all from their thoughts.
A muffled rumble echoed from Alamadris, and the guards atop the far battlements moved with a hurried bluster. The iron mouths of cannons glared from the castle walls, dark and ominous, plumes of smoke billowing forth as the deadly weapons aimed at their small party.
The first cannon fired, a thunderous shout that shattered the quiet beauty of Velasir’s slopes. Daine had only enough time to shout, “Down!” before the projectile cut through the air, aimed straight for them.
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Eliud raised his hand calmly, his eyes narrowing in focus as he harnessed his power. Just before the projectile reached them, he caught the cannonball, suspending it in the air with an effortless grip.
He turned to Genoes.
"Now, do you see what I'm doing here?"
Kirsten and Daine were too stunned by the unexpected attack to respond, frozen as the sheer audacity of the moment sank in. Donal, on the other hand, had more of his wits about him, “Is this really the right moment to show off?”
Genoes, however, was transfixed, his mind transfixed as he summoned his own nascent powers to attempt to study the Skills Eliud was using. He could feel the complex weave of elemental energy at work, the way Eliud’s power intertwined and locked onto the force of the cannonball.
A second shot fired from the castle, and Eliud shifted, effortlessly catching it with his other hand, his calm never wavering as he held both attacks suspended in midair. He raised an eyebrow at Genoes.
“Pay attention, now,” Eliud slipped into his role of a lecturer. “I’m combining – with quite some flair; I should say – several Skills here to manage the force and velocity of these . . . things First, there’s
A third shot blasted toward them, and Eliud flicked his wrist, redirecting his focus. “Then, I layer
Another cannon shot fired, and Eliud caught that too. Effortlessly. His face serene despite the four giant balls of iron he was holding in the air.
Genoes was clearly enthralled by the demonstration, stretching out with his own senses extending to feel the intricate web of Skills Eliud was weaving.
“But that’s not enough to fully stabilise,” Eliud continued. “Once I’ve dissipated the force, I have to employ
“Four’s easy,” Donal deadpanned back. “Think I managed something similar at my mother’s tit.”
The fifth shot tore through the sky, and – to Daine’s mind – Eliud’s eyes flashed with a touch of unease as he caught it just before it covered half the distance between them, barely even glancing at it before bringing it into the suspended array he’d created.
With a few, comical, roll of his eyes that made Kirstin sigh and Genoes beam, he pulled all five into a spinning circle that settled ten feet in the air above their heads.
“It’s all about understanding how one force affects another,” Eliud said. “A proper layering of Elemental, Temporal, and Kinetic Skills. I wouldn’t say you needed to be a genius to pull this off, but – you know – modesty forbids. You should try it next time—maybe not in live fire, though,” he added with a wink. “But the principle’s there. Each Skill compensates for a flaw in the other, each amplifies the stability of the whole.”
Eliud mentally separated one of the cannonballs from the others and hovered it above Genoes with a smirk. “Take it,” he said.
But Daine had no patience for their games. Her attention was fixed on the gates of Velasir as the portcullis creaked and began to rise. Through the opening came a group of armoured horsemen, emerging in a line and spreading into formation. They gleamed in the afternoon sun, lances raised high, charging toward them in a thunder of hooves that shook the ground.
“Eliud, don’t play with the boy now,” she snapped.
“I’m not playing with him,” he replied, glancing over at Genoes. “And our little Shadowbound—well, I guess Unbound now—needs every opportunity to broaden his horizons. It’s a big wide world out here.”
The word “Unbound” landed with an uncomfortable weight, a hollow echo that settled over both Daine and Donal. It prickled something deep within each of them, though they couldn’t place why.
Donal shook it off first, manifesting his twin war axes, each massive, their edges gleaming dangerously as he moved to take his place in front of the rest of the group. At the same time, Daine drew her blade, feeling the familiar weight settle into her hands as she squared her stance, eyes narrowing on the approaching riders who were covering the distance with alarming speed.
Kirsten slipped Shadowstrike from her shoulder and unslung it, sighting down the long distance toward the riders. “I can take them from here,” she said, her voice calm as though this were a morning exercise.
“From this distance?” Daine said, surprised.
“From twice this, to be honest.”
Eliud raised his hand like a schoolboy calling for attention “I can show Genoes how to throw one of these at them. It would be easy enough.”
Genoes’s eyes lit up with excitement, his mind clearly racing at the prospect of joining the fray in such an unexpected way.
“Everyone just settle down,” Daine said, exasperated. “Let’s see what they have to say before you go tossing cannonballs and raining arrows on them.”
The others exchanged glances but lowered their weapons slightly.
Just then, the horsemen closed in, their thundering approach stirring up a cloud of dust and gravel that billowed around them. They pulled up hard, the cacophony of hooves and armour clanking as they brought their steeds to a sudden halt, forming a line before Daine and her group.
The dust hung thick in the air, settling slowly as the lead rider urged his mount forward a step.
The group watched, weapons held but at the ready, as the armoured figure lifted his visor, his expression grim.
“Daine Darkhelm, you are not welcome here.”