"Focus."

Maros' voice was steady, cutting through the hum of magic that vibrated in the air around them. Zarin stood beside Reya, his heart pounding as he closed his eyes, trying to follow Maros' instructions. The ground beneath their feet trembled, the Spire groaning with the strain of the Old Magic. They had no time to waste.

“Feel the magic flowing through you,” Maros continued. His voice was calm, guiding them through the chaos. “It’s part of you now, a force that responds to your will. Don’t try to control it. Let it guide you.”

Zarin took a deep breath, trying to push aside the fear gnawing at him. He could feel the magic thrumming beneath his skin, like a river of energy waiting to be unleashed. But it wasn’t wild—it was alive, pulsing with a steady rhythm, calling out to him.

Beside him, Reya stood with her eyes closed, her fists clenched at her sides as she concentrated. Zarin could feel the same energy coming from her, the magic weaving between them like threads of light. They were connected now, bound by the power of the Old Magic.

“The Spire is a conduit,” Maros said, his tone sharpening as the tremors grew stronger. “It’s still drawing on the Old Magic, but it’s fractured. You need to stabilize the flow—redirect it away from the Spire before it collapses entirely.”

Zarin nodded, though his heart raced with doubt. How could he do this? He had only just begun to understand the magic within him, and now Maros was asking him to redirect a force that had existed for millennia.

But he didn’t have a choice.

“Zarin,” Maros called, his voice firm. “Trust yourself. You’ve already felt it. You know the rhythm of the magic. Use it.”

Zarin swallowed hard, his pulse quickening as he focused on the flow of energy coursing through him. He could feel it—the steady pulse of the Old Magic, like the beat of a drum deep within the earth. It was connected to the Spire, to the ground beneath their feet, to everything around them.

He opened his eyes and looked at Reya. Her face was tense, her jaw clenched in concentration, but when their eyes met, she gave a small nod.

They could do this. Together.

Zarin raised his hands, feeling the magic gather at his fingertips, warm and alive. The air around them crackled with energy, the wind picking up as the Spire’s tremors grew more violent. He could see the cracks in the stone widening, the ancient structure barely holding itself together.

“We need to move now,” Maros urged, stepping closer. “Zarin, Reya—reach for the Spire’s flow. Redirect it. Shift the energy away from the cracks, toward the earth.”

Zarin hesitated for a moment, fear clawing at him. What if he did it wrong? What if he made things worse?

But Reya stepped forward, her expression set with determination. “We can do this,” she said, her voice steady. “We just have to trust each other.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Zarin nodded, pushing aside his doubts. He reached out with his magic, extending his senses toward the Spire. The moment he did, he felt it—a rush of energy, like a roaring river crashing through a narrow gorge. It was overwhelming, powerful, and barely contained.

But beneath the chaos, there was a pattern. A rhythm.

Zarin focused on that rhythm, letting the magic guide him. Slowly, he extended his will toward the Spire, feeling the flow of energy respond to his touch. It was wild, yes, but it wasn’t uncontrollable. It wanted to be guided.

Reya mirrored his movements, her own magic intertwining with his as they worked together to redirect the flow. The energy pulsed between them, growing stronger with each passing moment, and Zarin could feel the pressure easing slightly, the tension in the air shifting.

“Good,” Maros said, his voice tight with focus. “Now, channel it into the ground. Let the earth absorb the excess energy.”

Zarin concentrated, guiding the magic downward, feeling the strain in his muscles as he fought to keep the flow steady. It was like trying to hold back a flood with his bare hands, but the more he focused, the clearer the rhythm became.

Beside him, Reya was doing the same. He could see the strain on her face, the sweat dripping from her brow, but she didn’t falter. They were in this together, bound by the same force, fighting to contain the same storm.

The ground beneath them shook violently, but as they channeled the magic into the earth, the tremors began to ease. The cracks in the Spire slowed their spread, the energy stabilizing as they redirected the flow.

But it wasn’t over yet.

The Spire groaned once more, a deep, resonant sound that echoed through the air. Zarin gritted his teeth, pushing harder, focusing every ounce of his will on the flow of magic. His arms shook with the effort, his entire body tense as he fought to keep the balance.

“Almost there,” Maros said, his voice low but urgent. “Just a little more.”

Zarin closed his eyes, feeling the magic surge through him. His heartbeat matched the rhythm of the Old Magic, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he poured everything he had into the task.

And then, suddenly, the tension broke.

The tremors stopped. The air around them stilled, and the cracks in the Spire halted their spread. Zarin opened his eyes, gasping for breath as the magic settled within him, calm and steady once more.

They had done it.

Reya collapsed to her knees, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Zarin dropped beside her, his body trembling from the effort, but a sense of relief washed over him. They had contained the magic. They had stopped the collapse.

Maros approached them slowly, his expression unreadable. He looked at the Spire, then back at Zarin and Reya.

“You did well,” Maros said quietly, his voice filled with quiet pride. “You’ve stabilized the Spire, for now. But this is only the beginning. The magic you wield is powerful, but it’s still dangerous. It will always be a part of you.”

Zarin nodded weakly, the weight of Maros’ words sinking in. He had felt the power of the Old Magic, the way it pulsed through him, alive and untamed. It was a force he would always carry with him—a force he had to learn to live with.

But for now, they had succeeded.

Maros knelt beside them, his hand resting on Zarin’s shoulder. “I will continue to guide you both. This power will test you, push you to your limits. But you’ve proven today that you can handle it. And I will be here, every step of the way.”

Zarin looked up at Maros, his heart filled with a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude. They had survived this trial, but he knew there were more challenges ahead—challenges that would test their strength, their resolve, and their bond.

But for now, they could rest. They had earned that much.

Maros stood, his eyes still on the Spire, his expression thoughtful. “The Spire will hold, but we don’t have long before the next wave of instability. We’ll need to keep moving soon.”

Reya nodded, though she didn’t move to stand. She was too tired, too drained. But Zarin could see the determination in her eyes—the same fire that burned in his own chest.

They would keep moving. They would keep fighting.

And together, they would face whatever came next.