-To Defend-

“Your tricks will not serve you well when I test your Orenda,” the raisling said, his temper once again replaced with a mask of indifference.

“Begin.”

That was all the warning Drew received. In a flash, the man sheathed his twin blades and threw his hands out to his sides. They radiated heat and light, a royal purple.

Drew hesitated. Acelin had struggled to help Drew understand and control his Orenda. He’d insisted that the energy should feel like a fierce animal waiting to spring, but Drew usually felt oddly at peace when he stroked his Orenda out of slumber.

The raisling read Drew’s hesitance and was quick to interpret.

“Do you even have Orenda? After all, only Forlorn possess the power. And you’re not Forlorn, are you, Thorne? You never passed through my doors.”

Drew growled, his patience snapping. The vindictive nature of the raisling was beginning to wear him down. He closed his eyes and invited his Orenda to awaken. A split-second later, fountains of ruby light encased his body like a suit of armor.

A massive shield formed from the rich red Orenda, which stretched up from the ground to Drew’s right shoulder.

Drew’s talent, or lack thereof, with weapons may have irritated the academy leader, but his Orenda seemed to honestly surprise the raisling.

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Gone were the fierce comments and jabs. The raisling’s hands crackled with purple fire, but it paled before Drew’s ruby defense.

An amethyst bolt hurled his way, fashioned like the javelin Drew had flung at the man. It shattered into violet dust, Drew’s Orenda-formed shield unaffected.

The raisling’s attacks grew more concentrated—a near-constant barrage of amethyst projectiles, all exploding as they hit the ruby armor and shield.

Twin amethyst blades came next, whirling just as quickly and deadly as their physical counterparts. But the fear Drew had felt at seeing the swords was gone. He felt nothing but peace. His Orenda stood as firm as a castle wall, as though tons of stone loomed over the dark form of the Forlorn’s raisling.

The blades pierced nothing but the man’s pride. As the purple swords violently shredded the air, the constant stream of amethyst sparks wandered like motes of dust into Drew’s ruby Orenda like starflies flirting with the grass.

As the raisling’s Orenda began to waver Drew’s only grew, like water caught in a dam and commanding release, the amethyst Orenda joining with the ruby and becoming a brighter shade of red.

Instead of bottling in the power, Drew complied, freeing the Orenda.

His ruby protection shifted, becoming a different kind of armor, a strange head piece fitted over his head with delicate lines crossing over the forehead.

The ground beneath their feet became ruby marble. As Drew turned to examine the Orenda filling the courtyard, he saw three thrones fashioned from the ruby power behind him. The third caught his gaze—instinctively, he knew that throne belonged to him.

The world was ruby, so many shades of red like a sunset bleeding into the sea, filling the clouds and bursting through. Everything faded away but the sensation of simple, unwavering truth. Like a great secret of the universe had taken wing and blown past them on its way out of town.

Facing the raisling, little more than a dark smudge in the ocean of Drew’s Orenda, Drew simply said, “I know a thing or two about Orenda.”