Chapter 26: A Whisper of Wind, A Roar of Fire
Kael’s breathing hitched as he steadied his crossbow, the cool steel of its frame pressing against his gloved fingers. Below him, the leader’s golden hair gleamed like a halo in the muted light. The man stood apart from the others, his poise serene amidst the chaos, as though he knew no one would dare challenge him.
Kael tightened his grip.
He doesn’t see me. I can end this now.
The moment his fingers brushed the activation rune of his crossbow, the leader turned, locking Kael in a gaze so intense it felt like it could pierce through the distance between them. His finger brushed the activation rune, and the crossbow hissed to life.
The leader turned.
It was unnatural—no sound, no warning, just the unsettling certainty that the man knew. His gaze, sharp as a hawk's, pierced Kael from across the jagged rocks. Panic surged through Kael’s chest like cold water.
“Father’s mercy,” Kael hissed, his pulse roaring in his ears as his finger squeezed the trigger. The bolt shot through the air with lethal precision—until the wind shifted.
It should have been perfect. It was perfect. The bolt screamed through the air, aimed unerringly for the man’s head, but fate—or something crueler—intervened. A sharp gust, unnatural and deliberate, veered the bolt to the side. Kael watched, stunned, as the projectile clattered harmlessly against the stones.
“Damn you,” Kael snarled under his breath, dropping the crossbow as though it had betrayed him. He yanked his rune-carving knife from his belt and hurled himself down the slope, feet skidding on loose shale. The etched stones lining the path gleamed faintly in the dim light, their power dormant until his knife’s tip kissed their runes. The very runes he had carved to practice his rune crafting over the past week.
With hurried strokes, Kael slashed at the markings, activating one after another in rapid succession. The air filled with a cacophony of elemental chaos. Water surged and roared, erupting into walls that crashed down the slope. Flames licked the edges of the rock, spitting embers into the air. Earth trembled, cracks forming and threatening to swallow anyone careless enough to misstep.
The bandits, initially emboldened by the sight of one lone figure, faltered as the elements tore through their ranks. Weapons glinted in their hands, but hesitation dimmed their shine. Shouts of confusion and anger rang out as Kael’s makeshift defenses forced them into disarray.
But the leader came forward undeterred.
Kael saw him now, moving with an unnatural grace that mocked the storm raging around him. The wind that had deflected Kael’s bolt swirled around the man, a shield of unseen hands batting away water and fire with contemptuous ease. Kael’s stomach twisted.
A mage.
The realization struck like a hammer blow. His fingers tightened around his carving knife as he drew closer to his sword, lying by the camp fire where he’d left it. The leader's face came into focus— grim, and utterly calm. He carried a bastard sword, its dark metal seeming to drink in the light.
Wind swirled around the golden-haired man, carrying debris and embers in a miniature storm. The walls of fire flickered and died as the air snuffed them out. Streams of water arced away, deflected by unseen forces. The earth trembled, but the man strode through it all, untouched.
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Their blades met in a violent clash. The force jolted through Kael’s arms, nearly numbing his grip. The leader’s strikes came swift and unrelenting, his swordsmanship brutal yet elegant. Kael struggled to keep up, his movements slowed by the oppressive wind that seemed to coil around him, dragging him back with every step.
The fight was hopelessly one-sided. Kael knew it the moment their swords locked again, his blade trembling under the pressure of the leader’s.
Kael grit his teeth and shoved back, using every ounce of his strength to break the lock. He stumbled as the leader let him go, the wind pushing against him like an invisible wall.
Think, Kael. Don’t fight his strength. Find the weakness.
But there was no weakness in this storm of a man. Every step Kael took, the leader anticipated. Every feint, every counter, met with effortless precision.
Kael felt the blade bite into his side before he even registered the move. Pain flared hot and sharp, stealing his breath. He staggered, his knees buckling. The leader didn’t press the attack, watching instead as Kael struggled to rise, blood staining his tunic.
“Yield,” the leader said, his tone devoid of malice, yet heavy with finality.
Kael’s vision swam, but he forced himself upright, gripping his sword with both hands.
I can’t stop. Not now. Now when it counts on me.
“You’ll have to kill me,” he spat, though his voice faltered under the weight of his own fear.
The leader tilted his head, golden hair whipping in the wind. “You're a rogue dragon rider, that makes you a threat. I won't kill you, but I will take you down. Don't make me do it the hard way.”
He advanced again, his movements as sure as the wind itself. Kael raised his sword, prepared for the end, not believing a bandit's word, when a flash of light exploded in the periphery—a rune backfiring where Kael had carved it.
The burst of energy was wild and uncontrolled, throwing both combatants off balance. Kael hit the ground hard, the impact jarring his wounded side. Gritting his teeth, he clawed at the dirt, dragging himself toward another rune he’d carved earlier.
The leader recovered quickly, his storm already gathering force again. Kael could feel the pull of it, the air tightening around him.
This is it. One last chance. Make it count.
As the leader’s shadow loomed over him, Kael’s hand closed around the one of the ward stones. He poured the last of his strength into activating it, the air shimmering with its unstable power. Kael funneled every last drop of essence from the tiny pool he'd gained after bonding with the dragon into the stone, pushing it to the breaking point. And then, with a reckless abandon, he poured in even more.
The explosion sent them both flying.
Kael’s world spun, his body slamming into the jagged rocks. Pain swallowed him whole, his vision dimming as the wind howled around him.
And then, silence.
Kael lay there, gasping for breath, his thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. He could see the leader rising in the distance, bloodied but unbowed.
He streched his mind, seeking the dragon's familiar presence, and sent a silent apology, his thoughts laced with regret and sorrow. Images of his failure to protect the dragon flooded his mind, and he hoped the creature could sense the depth of his remorse.
But even as his mind wrestled with the weight of his failure, Kael's consciousness began to slip away. The pain in his body a dull roar compared to the chaos in his thoughts. But then, like the whisper of a breeze through the trees, came a familiar sensation—a presence in his mind.
The hatchling.
He felt it, fragile yet determined, reaching out to him. A wash of warmth flooded his senses, not in words, but in emotions: reassurance, comfort, and an unshakable trust. The connection hummed like a faint melody, soothing his despair. Kael clung to it as though it were a lifeline.
A sharp cracking sound cut through the stillness, pulling Kael’s attention. His bleary eyes turned toward the dragon egg, its surface now splintering under some unseen force. He blinked through the haze of his exhaustion, his heart racing.
It’s hatching. Now?
The egg fractured further, tiny fissures spreading like veins of lightning. Finally, with a decisive crack, a piece of the shell fell away, revealing a glint of copper. Kael squinted, his breath catching as the hatchling emerged.
It wasn’t what he had expected.
The dragon was small—smaller than any hatchling Kael had ever heard of. Its scales gleamed like polished copper, and its body seemed to be an intricate combination of flesh and mechanical components. Tiny gears whirred faintly at its joints, and its eyes glowed with a soft golden light, like molten metal.
It let out a roar—or at least it tried to. The sound was more like a squeaky chirp than the fearsome cry Kael anticipated.
The absurdity of it all almost made him laugh, but the effort was too much. His vision blurred as his head lolled back against the rock and the world went dark.