Aric felt every nerve in his weak body buzz with raw, untamed energy as he finally slid down from Kael's back, his boots hitting the cold, stone floor of the Crimson Citadel with a dull thud. The journey had been punishing; the altitude had robbed him of breath, leaving his chest heavy and his limbs sluggish. His skin felt like it was burning, the chaotic Wyrd energy he’d recklessly pulled into himself writhing beneath his skin, a beast fighting to break free.

He closed his eyes for a moment, steadying himself. Stay calm, don’t let it control you. The mantra echoed in his mind, barely enough to keep his head clear.

Kael’s presence beside him was a silent reassurance, he had turned back into a human. Aric could feel the faint hum of Kael’s mana, a subtle veil that cloaked them as they moved deeper into the citadel. It was Kael’s way of shielding him, keeping other dragon-blooded entities from sensing the dark, erratic energy leaking from Aric.

The heavy silence of the citadel pressed down on him as they made their way through the ominous halls. Shadows danced along the cold stone walls, and every step felt like it echoed deeper into the empty expanse.

Finally, they turned into a small, secluded room where Kirin waited, arms crossed, her expression impatient and tinged with irritation. Her gaze fell on Aric the moment he entered, and her brows shot up, shock flashing across her usually composed face.

“Aric… what happened to you?” Her voice was a mix of disbelief and concern as she took in his haggard appearance, the shadows beneath his eyes, and the faint, erratic energy emanating from him like a storm barely contained.

Aric staggered, his legs feeling like lead, and managed a half-smile that barely reached his eyes. "Hi."

Kirin didn’t respond immediately. She looked over to Kael, silently demanding answers. Kael’s gaze met hers, and with a grave nod, he began to explain the events. Aric couldn’t hear every word; his focus kept slipping, fading in and out as he fought to keep the chaos within him from breaking loose. When Kael finished, silence fell, tense and heavy.

Kirin turned back to Aric, her shock giving way to fury. "Are you insane?"

Aric blinked, trying to find something in himself to counter her intensity, but he was too drained. “It… wasn’t exactly planned," he managed, his voice rough.

Kirin’s eyes narrowed, the weight of her scrutiny bearing down on him. “Not planned?” she repeated, her voice climbing sharply. "Do you even understand what you've done? Do you have any idea the risk you took?"

The Wyrd energy inside him flared, like it was mocking her words, reveling in the chaos it brought. He shifted, feeling the pressure of it in his chest, twisting with a dark thrill that was starting to feel disturbingly familiar.

"I didn’t have much of a choice, Kirin," he muttered, but the defiance in his voice was paper-thin. The fatigue weighed on him, his whole body felt like lead. It wasn’t supposed to go this way, he thought.

“Choice or not, this is madness!” she snapped, her voice cutting through his exhaustion. “You’re practically radiating enough Wyrd energy to tear yourself apart. Even those of us who have spent years training wouldn’t dare to meddle with it the way you have. You’re lucky to be standing right now—no, you’re lucky to be alive!”

Kael stepped in. "Kirin, this isn’t the time for a lecture," he said, his voice a low rumble. "He needs help stabilizing, now."

Kirin shot Kael a glance, her face softening slightly. "And you think I don’t see that? Still, it’s idiotic. Reckless." She paused, her gaze returning to Aric, scrutinizing him as if trying to assess just how dire his condition was. "Why did you do it, Aric? Why would you reach for that kind of power without understanding the cost?"

A bitter laugh escaped Aric's lips before he could stop himself. Because I had no other choice, he thought, but the words stayed locked inside him. The Wyrd energy surged in response, and he clenched his fists to keep it at bay. "Sometimes… sometimes you don’t get a choice," he muttered. "Sometimes, it’s either reach for power or…"

"Or what?" she challenged, her eyes flashing. "Die?"

"Or worse," Aric replied, a hint of desperation slipping into his voice.

Kirin's gaze softened, but her voice held its usual edge. "You don't understand what you're playing with, Aric. Wyrd energy… it’s forbidden for a reason. There’s a reason we fear it."

She took a breath, and for a moment, Aric could sense the shadow of something in her—fear, perhaps, or respect for the unknown forces they both knew lingered beyond the Veil. "The risks are severe. The consequences? Potentially worse. You’re lucky you’re even standing here right now."

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Kael cleared his throat. "If you have a way to help him, Kirin, we don’t have the luxury of debating. This energy is volatile—if he doesn’t find control, it’ll consume him."

Kirin was silent, her eyes hardening with resolve as she weighed her options. She gave a quick nod, then fixed her gaze on Aric. “Fine. But understand this, Aric—there’s no safe way to rid you of it now, not without irreparable damage. Instead of extraction, I’ll teach you to internalize it. It’ll be risky, but it might just save you.”

Aric swallowed, the realization settling over him like a weight. “So, I have to… control it?”

“Correct.” she answered.

Kirin walked toward him, her eyes calculating. “Follow me.”

...

Aric felt his limbs tremble as he followed Kirin down the winding corridors of the Crimson Citadel. His insides churned with the volatile energy seething within, the Wyrd pressing against his skin like something alive, writhing, and desperate to break free. Every step echoed against the stone walls, amplifying the silent roar of the chaos he barely kept restrained within him.

"Keep up," Kirin snapped, her tone sharp but laced with something he couldn’t quite place—concern, maybe. "And focus. I don't want you losing control in here. You’ll end up destroying half the Citadel if you slip."

Aric swallowed, feeling the Wyrd pulse angrily in response, twisting his insides. He wanted to respond, to assure her he had control, but his voice felt trapped under the weight of his own power.

Finally, they reached a heavy door, etched with intricate runes that seemed to hum with energy. Kirin pushed it open, and a waft of cold, metallic air rushed out, carrying the scent of blood and the sharp bite of something darker. The room beyond was dimly lit, with stone walls lined by symbols and a single large stone basin filled with a dark, viscous liquid.

“Step in,” Kirin instructed, gesturing to the basin. She watched him, her gaze intense, as if daring him to falter.

Aric looked at her, the exhaustion in his bones making every step feel like a monumental effort. “Are… are you sure this is going to work?”

Kirin’s lips tightened. “Sure? No. But you’ve already tethered yourself to that energy, and it’s either this or… well.” She shrugged, her expression cold. “You implode, basically.”

Aric flinched at her bluntness. “Right. Imploding doesn’t sound great. Also, is that blood?”

“Yes, I have extracted that blood from the strongest of Wyrd creatures, the Wyrd energy is highly stable in the blood, only a few creatures have this after they get corrupted. Now get in.” Kirin’s gaze softened, just barely. “And remember, you’re the one in control here. That energy? It’s raw, yes, but it’s yours now. So take charge. Don’t let it run wild.”

With a deep breath, Aric nodded and stepped into the basin. The liquid was colder than ice, seeping through his clothes and onto his skin, chilling him to the bone. It wasn’t just cold—it was… wrong. As it touched him, he felt the Wyrd inside him react violently, a deep pulse of defiance that made his heart race. The blood seemed to surge, almost as if it recognized the chaos within him, and it began seeping into his skin, a dark pulse that burned and numbed in equal measure.

"Shut out everything else," Kirin’s voice cut through his daze. "Stop breathing and get your whole body inside. From now on, the mana in your heart is your lifeline. It needs to do what your lungs, your blood, everything, normally does.”

He hesitated. “Stop… breathing?”

“Yes. No more air. If you want control over the Wyrd, you need to rely entirely on your heart filled with mana, or mana heart so you may call it,” she explained. “Let it feed every part of you—keep you alive, even as the Wyrd tries to tear you apart. Now do it.”

Aric took one last deep breath, then let it out slowly, feeling his lungs burn as he forced himself not to inhale. His vision wavered, and a sharp panic rose up in him. Without breath, he felt his body’s natural instincts clash against the process, the Wyrd inside him stirring restlessly in his chest, sensing his struggle.

“Calm down,” Kirin urged, her voice low. “The mana is more than just a source of power. Trust it. Let it sustain you.”

He focused, drawing his mana inward, feeling it seep through every fiber of his being, his heartbeat slowing as the energy spread through him. Each pulse felt deeper, more powerful, more alive than any breath had ever felt. Slowly, he adjusted, feeling his mana heart fill the role his body demanded, feeding energy into every vein, every muscle.

"That's it," Kirin murmured approvingly, watching him closely. "Feel it replacing what you think you need. Let it be the only thing keeping you standing."

A chill crept up his spine, and he could feel the Wyrd twisting, trying to exploit every ounce of doubt in his mind. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. I’m in control, he reminded himself. This power might be wild, but it’s mine to command.

Kirin watched his struggle, a faint smile flickering across her face. “Good. Now comes the real part.”

“You’re going to start weaving the Wyrd into your mana. Picture it like a double helix—two threads, one of pure, stable mana and the other, wild, untamed chaos. You need to weave them together without letting one dominate.”

The enormity of her instruction crashed over him. 'A double helix,' he repeated slowly, struggling to wrap his mind around it. The thought of binding the chaos within him with his mana felt like an impossible task.

“Do it now, or it’ll tear you apart,” Kirin commanded, her voice cold. “Imagine each force as a thread in your mind—separate them, then interlace. Let mana stabilize the Wyrd, and let the Wyrd strengthen your mana.”

Aric clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. He envisioned the energies as she described: the familiar blue of his mana, steady and calm, next to the dark, shifting current of Wyrd, eager to lash out. He tried to imagine them intertwining, like two threads forming a single, controlled cord.

The instant he tried to weave them, the Wyrd lashed out, wild and unpredictable. It felt like his insides were tearing apart, his head pounding as he struggled to keep control. His grip slipped, and his vision blurred.

"Stop flinching," Kirin barked. “Control it, Aric! Don’t just imagine the weave—make it happen.”

Gritting his teeth, he focused again, visualizing the two threads. This time, he didn't just let them flow passively. He forced them together, winding the Wyrd around his mana, feeling the resistance as they twisted and clashed. The Wyrd surged and fought, but he pressed it down, binding it tighter, forcing it to bend to his will. His mana heart pounded with exertion, sending waves of pain through his chest.