Cassius and Petra rushed forward, keeping shoulder to shoulder. Marrak again brought up a barrier, but this time the twins split around it. From behind them, Aidan charged the wall with sword raised and gleaming. The twins braced themselves and he brought the blade down on the barrier. The wall sliced open with a flash and the shockwave shot out in all directions.

Syra heard Marrak grunt as he hit the wall, but she focused on the three shimmering outlines crouched within the dust cloud and kept her hands firm against the floor as the blast passed.

“Go!”

She heard Aidan call and released her hold.

The twins broke through the dust and met Marrak head-on. Marrak’s hands flew up, but Cassius latched onto his wrists, pinning his arms behind him.

“Petra, now!”

Marrak barely saw the blur before Petra’s fist found his gut. All breath seized from his lungs and he doubled over, his grip loosening.

“Aidan!” Cassius snatched up the shard and threw it across the hall.

As he watched it fall and skitter into Aidan’s hands, Marrak drew a deep breath through a growing snarl. His fists clenched and radiated, making Cassius yelp.

“Syra!” Petra wrapped her arm around Marrak’s neck and forced him to his knees.

Marrak squirmed against their hold, managing to pull one foot under himself. But the pat-pat of light feet and the glint of gold in his face made him flinch as Syra jabbed the charm onto his forehead.

“Dah aranidah.”

At her words, the charm shone and its legs stretched out, attaching itself to Marrak’s head. Marrak screamed as the metal dug into his skin.

The siblings jumped back as threads of white light shot from the spider and encircled him, wrapping thread after thread. Syra’s lips trembled as she watched him thrash and claw at his face, wriggling like a worm against his glowing cocoon.

I’m sorry.

“Syra, now!” Aidan pressed the shard to his sword and its manablade crackled and expanded.

She tore her eyes away and crouched down, throwing up a small barrier above her as Aidan charged. Drawing back his sword, he leapt onto the barrier and she heaved him upwards towards the arch.

The blade fell and sliced clean through the stone. But sparks flew and metal screamed as it hit the raging current within the archway.

“Damn it,” Aidan yelled as he fell into Syra’s glowing hands.

“Try again!” called Petra from her position over Marrak.

“And quickly!” Cassius joined in restraining the smoldering cocoon as the threads burnt and snapped one by one.

A second attempt drove the blade deeper, but when the current met the metal hilt it arched and shot Aidan straight into the back wall.

“Aid—”

The twin’s screams cut off Syra’s cry, and she turned to watch their smoking bodies cling futilely to the bundle rising from the floor. The waves of heat brought a flood of fearscent and charred skin, welding her feet to the floor.

Snap…snap.

The last threads broke and the twins collapsed onto the floor. Her legs quaked as Marrak leered up at her, gold dripping down his forehead.

“Shit.”

Her vision flashed red as all air left her chest. Heat stung her skin followed by the cold slap of stone as she tumbled back across the floor.

“Syra!”

Aidan’s hoarse voice forced her eyes open.

Hunched below the arch, Marrak drew his breath back through gritted teeth. He glared up at the sparks flowing from the sliced stone.

“Alright, then,” he snarled back at Aidan and Syra, “have it your way.”

He straightened himself and lifted an arm. His entire body cloaked itself in a red glow, and his arm shone as if white-hot. From within this heat, a blackness bubbled up onto his skin. It wept down, coating his arm, solidifying and cracking into scales black as obsidian.

Aidan’s eyes went wide, “Oh shit.”

With a mighty swing, Marrak dug his fingers into the stone wall. He latched them around a golden thread and yanked it from the wall like a shallow root. Red light surrounded the thread and he slung it back and forth, the whip crackling and igniting the brush between Syra and the twins.

“Leave! Now!” He bore down on them, cracking a warning against the floor.

But Syra heaved herself up to glare at him, “No…I won’t.”

She sprinted to the twins and Marrak reared back.

The first strike sent her and the twins colliding into Aidan, and they skidded towards the cave entrance. The second struck Syra’s barrier, shattering it instantly.

As he drew back for a third, Syra glanced down at her siblings, at their scorched skin and the fear finally displayed on their faces.

They can’t fight like this. Not against him.

Exactly, the voice repeated. No more holding back.

She watched the searing red line come down upon them, and her arms shot upward. Heat surged from her chest as gold light blazed around them. A deep jarring sent her bones buzzing and filled her skull with humming. Her skin prickled with the tingling of needles, the hairs standing like tiny barbs. It stretched and tightened, cracking and callusing. Hardening.

The crack of the whip echoed through the hall, but when Marrak drew the whip back it didn’t budge. Crouched amidst the falling dust, Syra clutched the whip with shimmering arms covered in bright, bronze scales that glinted like armor.

The twins drew back, but Aidan gaped in momentary awe as the Bronzed Valkyrie stood over him once again, her hair wild in the heat surging from both whip and warrior. Even Marrak stood open-mouthed at the sight spoken of but rarely seen.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Take the shard and run,” she whispered to Aidan. “Now.”

At their fleeing, Marrak yanked back but Syra latched on tight and dug her glowing heels into the floor.

“No, you come here!” Her core and shoulders burned as she reared back, yanking the whip and pulling Marrak off his feet. She sprinted towards him and charged her fist, “Take your fucking ring back.”

As his head neared, black scales spread across his face only to shatter as the morakii smashed into his cheekbone, exploding.

The shockwave slammed Marrak into a wall and Syra’s limp body flew across the hall and skidded out the mouth of the cave, tumbling down the mountainside.

“Syra!” Aidan and the twins dashed down the hillside after her, paying no heed to the growing shadow behind them.

“Syra!” Aidan poured over the body lying limp on the ground. “Syra! Shit, she’s out cold.”

They checked her over with timid hands, the memory of Morai making them all tremble. But there were no blisters this time. Now the burns were speckled with broken and torn scales, leaving macralled marks that matched her old scars.

“Damn it, Syra,” said Aidan. “You burned yourself out again.”

“At least it’s not as bad as in Morai,” said Cassius.

“I don’t know, her hand looks pretty messed up.” Petra lifted it gently, “You think it's broken?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Aidan. “But she can heal herself if we can just get her to wake up.”

He lightly patted her face, “Come on, now. Wake up—you have to get up.”

But she didn’t stir.

“Shit.” He turned to check the cave, but no shadow followed. “We have to get her and the shard away from here. But she’s in no state to travel.”

Cassius watched Petra pour over Syra, examining her body with quivering fingers like she did with Aidan on the train. “Could you sing for her?”

“Huh?”

“You healed Aidan before. Could you do it again, for her?”

But Petra shook her head, “That was the first thing I thought of. But the 'Song of Rest' only works on toxins, not flesh wounds.”

“Do you know of one that does?” asked Aidan.

“No. Like you said, we’re in peacetime, so we rarely have a need for it.”

She waited for a snarky retort, but none came. His gaze only grew more distant.

“Then we’ll have to use mine. Give me your hand,” he said, holding his out to Petra.

“W-what?”

“You channeled with Syra before—now try it with me.”

She scoffed, “You want me to sing? With you?”

“Aye.”

“You can’t be serious.” She laughed in complete bafflement and looked to Cassius. “This boy thinks he can sing.”

“Syra told you my mother was Gifted,” he said to Cassius, “that she was a Green Witch. But she was also a songstress.”

“But that doesn’t guarantee that you share her gift.”

“Exactly!” said Petra. “Don’t get me wrong, I heard you at the festival and you weren’t bad, but that’s not going to fix all this.”

“But, we do have a shard now,” said Cassius pointing to the crystal in Aidan’s hand. “That could make up for the power difference. Couldn’t it?”

“Hmm,” Her humor turned serious and she chewed her lip. “Fine,” she grabbed Aidan’s hands and placed the crystal against Syra’s chest, holding it still with both their hands. “I’ll try to match you, but don’t blame me if it doesn’t work because you’re off-key.”

His broad smile caught her off-guard and he squeezed her hand tight.

“Thank you, Petra. Just focus on my words like you would any songspell.”

“O-oh…right. Ready when you are, then.”

He leaned over to Syra’s ear, “Hey, Syra? Petra and I are—” A third hand clasped around theirs and he looked up to see a grinning Cassius. “I mean, we are going to sing something for you. So, you better be listening and wake up for us. That’s an order, my lady.”

He straightened to meet the twins’ eager gaze.

“So, what is this song of yours?” asked Petra.

A bittersweet grin graced his face, “My mother’s lullaby—I guess you can call it the 'Song of Skinned Knees'.”

He took a deep breath and offered a silent prayer before their voices sent the air rippling.

When darkness comes and your flame grows cold,

And all stars refuse to shine,

A grain of light from deep within,

Cuts through the gloom.

With a spark, the shard flickered to a steady glow as their voices tuned themselves—even Cassius managed to stay in rhythm. Aidan jolted as his hands warmed and waves of gentle heat flowed between him, the twins, and the shard. Petra just gave him a silent nod and closed her eyes, belting out harmonizing hums as she locked onto the song’s flow.

Under the gales of darkness,

Its whispering is heard.

Wrap your heart around it tight,

And heed its tender words.

Aidan gazed down at Syra’s sleeping face—reddened and speckled with bronze scales, but still as gentle as ever. He let one hand slip to her face and graze the shining scales on her cheek.

It sings of love unceasing,

Yet no lie it ever tells.

And even in its sleeping,

Its flame forever dwells.

His voice nearly cracked as her skin and outline finally shimmered, brighter and brighter. At this, Cassius and Petra latched onto her hand. Their voices rose, and even the wind seemed to accompany them as it swirled the specks of green light from the vegetation around them.

Draw closer from that frigid night.

Let its warmth soak in.

Cling to it with all your might,

And day will come again.

The specks spiraled inward, disappearing into the golden aura around Syra’s body. The aura grew and pulsed, and Syra’s breathing gradually returned to normal. Her scales receded or flaked off, and the burns mended themselves. When the glow finally faded, her eyes flickered open with sleepy confusion.

“W-what…what happened? Where are we?” She went to sit up, but Cassius braced her against himself.

“You burnt out again,” Aidan said, still holding her hand.

“I did? Damn it. I really thought this time—”

“I’m telling you,” Petra squeaked between sniffs, “it’s that damn human body. It can’t keep up with you. Even this shard is a shade dimmer after helping y—.”

“Shit, the shard!” Syra’s hands skittered about the ground, but Aidan caught them lightly.

“It’s alright—we have it. Here, see?” He held it out to her and she fell back into Cassius’ arms.

“Thank goodness. I thought Marrak got it for sure—”

She went rigid. Her eyes locked on the shard—on the carving now glowing on one of its faces.

“What is it?” asked Aidan.

“That rune…let me see it.”

He had barely tilted the rune towards her when it flashed and she knocked it out of his hand.

“What on Erd, Syra?” Petra jumped after the shard.

“No wait, don’t!”

Petra paused just in time for the vortex to shoot open and close, taking the shard and bits of turf with it.

Surprise and horror wrecked Syra’s face and all looked to her with hanging mouths.

“What was that?” asked Petra. “What just happened? Did we…did we just…”

“We lost it.” Syra’s voice cracked.

“But how?” asked Cassius.

“What was that rune?” Aidan asked, catching her falling gaze. “You recognized it, didn’t you?”

She nodded, “As should you.” She absently drew the symbol in the dirt, “It’s the central rune on the transpoint shards.”

Aidan paled, “So that…that rune I saw him sketching. It wasn’t for the altar at all.”

She stared blankly at the slew of woven lines. Simple enough to draw, but nearly impossible to power, let alone control.

“To bend the Four Pillars of Aranida’s Web,” she hushed, “that’s the mark of a true archmage.” She looked back up at the cave mouth. At the aurora radiating the stone in greens, reds, and violets. At the shadow curled up inside. “I can’t imagine what this will make.”