The air was heavy with the scent of salt and smoke when they landed. Tolu Tobarin was one of the first people off the ships, her chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths as she hurried with the others to crouch behind the remnants of a shattered wall, her gaze fixed on the horizon where once-proud spires now lay in ruin. Her heart thundered in her ears, each beat a vivid echo of the screams and clashes from the battle that had nearly claimed her life.

A battle, a voice whispered to her. That they had lost.

"An Solidan is restored," she murmured to herself, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The phrase looped in her mind, a relentless mantra that amplified the tremors running through her limbs. She had escaped with her life, yes, but at what cost? It was true that she didn’t have that many friends in the House but the ones she had lost swam before her eyes, their visages mocking her with their ghastly smiles.

House Whiterose’s retaliation, after all, had been thorough and pitiless.

A ripple of essence undulated through the air and a force that made Tolu's skin prickle descended upon them all. She peered out from her meagre shelter—a dilapidated house from a long-forgotten attempt to colonize the island—in time to witness the arrival of Lady Saada, Core Elder of House Redwood. The elder's presence commanded immediate attention, an aura of power and purpose radiating from her as she surveyed the scattered survivors. Tolu did not like her Domain, a numbing thing that whispered of changing, warping flesh and bubbling blood, and the woman was doing little to contain it.

"Rise, my warriors!" Lady Saada's voice boomed across the abandoned village, slicing through the fugue-like a blade. "This is not the hour for mourning, but for action!"

Her eyes, bright as embers, scanned the ragged assembly of her people with a feverish intensity and narrowed at what they saw. With a swift motion, her hand cut through the air, and a shimmering portal materialized beside her—a gateway wrought of pure essence.

"House Redwood shall not falter in the face of adversity," she declared. "You know your duty; you understand the weight of the blood oath that binds us. Step up, and let our enemies quail at our resolve! We shall persevere until the Redwood reigns!"

Tolu felt a surge of something fierce and indomitable stir within her chest. Lady Saada's words were a clarion call, a summon to the depths of her soul that demanded she stand and be counted among the willing. But even as this new resolve sparked to life, doubt gnawed at the edges of her determination. Could they truly overcome the disgrace that clung to them like a second skin? Already rumours were spreading throughout the archipelago, whispers of their imminent fall from grace. She’d even overheard a group of mortals discussing whether it was wise to remain in An Layan.

"Until the Redwood reigns!" echoed another voice, and a hundred throats took up the call, the early morning resonating with their determination.

Before Tolu could fully grasp the significance of the moment or add her voice to din—what did the stupid chant even mean anyway—Lady Saada stepped into the swirling maelstrom of light. The portal snapped shut behind her with a sound like the world being sundered, leaving only the charged silence in its wake.

"Until the Redwood reigns," Tolu repeated under her breath, the words now a personal incantation. She pushed herself to her feet, her legs wobbling slightly as they bore the weight of her tired body and spirit. There was no turning back now—only forward, into the unknown, wherever the tides of fate might carry her and her kin. With the image of Lady Saada's imperious departure etched into her memory, Tolu steeled herself for what was to come.

Mother, Father, wherever you are now… Guide me, please.

***

A storm was coming. Sebel could smell it from the ozone in the air as he crouched low in the bush, his eyes scanning the horizon that bled a diffuse golden light. Tolu Tobarin was beside him, her breaths shallow and quick, betraying the unrest that simmered beneath her would-be calm facade. This girl was about to expose them.

"Be quiet," he whispered, barely audible over the rustling leaves. Tolu's hands tightened into fists, her knuckles turning white as she nodded in agreement. Her eyes remained fixed on the swaying grasslands ahead, and Sebel struggled to suppress a sigh. He had made a last-minute decision to add her to his team, and while he considered her a friend, he was not naive. In a battle, Tolu was not reliable; it was only the fact that the other commanders would have eaten her alive that had made him pick her.

A decision he was starting to regret. Tolu’s eyes bulged out of their sockets like grapefruits, her fingers worrying at a loose thread in her gown.

"I don’t like this," she murmured, almost to herself and Sebel fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Well, of course, it wasn’t. They were attempting to steal some of the most dangerous soul beasts in the world, right under the nose of the newly restored House that traditionally owned them. A House that, not too long ago, had handed them a crushing defeat. To think otherwise would have been beyond stupid.

A sudden crackle broke through the silence, and the pair along with their squad froze as the foliage shifted, betraying the presence of others. Through the dense underbrush, the unmistakable glint of armour flickered past—a patrol from House Whiterose, their symbol-emblazoned shields catching the dying light.

"Whiterose," Sebel breathed, dread coiling in his gut. "Tolu, we—"

But before he could finish, one of the patrollers stumbled on a hidden root and cursed loudly, his eyes meeting Sebel for a split second. Time seemed to constrict, squeezing the breath out of the moment before the soldier’s eyes widened and he reared back and launched a flare into the sky.

"An invasion!" the soldier bellowed, his voice carrying across the field. "To arms!"

"By the ancestors..." Tolu gasped, her hand seeking the hilt of her sword reflexively. "They've seen us."

"No choice now," Sebel said, rising to his full height, a solemn resolve hardening his features. "We stand and fight."

The landscape erupted into chaos as figures materialised from the embrace of dusk, the joint cultivators of House Redwood and Ashfall charging forth with a primal roar. The ground shook beneath the onslaught of boots, and the air vibrated with the hum of unsheathed blades and the crackling of readying essence.

"Form ranks!" Elder Lakan commanded, his voice cutting through the cacophony as the defenders of House Whiterose scrambled to meet the charge. "Hold the line!"

Tolu moved with a dancer's grace despite her earlier trepidation, her blade singing as it cleaved the air. Beside her, Sebel was quickly fading into a blur of red, using his Bloodshroud Veil to become a stain on the world. It wasn't a traditional synergized art, but rather something that the research institute had concocted for him in exchange for a hefty sum of majorpearls. They were commonly known as Mimic Arts and were at their core, attempts to imitate true synergized arts. Essentially, it took an art of the user's affinity and modified it to also grant similar abilities to those of an entirely different affinity. This allowed the user to keep the traditional efficiency and power boost using a matching art gave while still imitating their chosen House’s specialities.

Most unaffiliated cultivators didn't bother with them since acquiring any arts and techniques at all was already difficult and expensive enough on its own, and even some House cultivators looked down on them as tools for the weak and untalented.

But Sebel didn’t care. They allowed him to match House Redwood’s blood and flesh affinities, without sacrificing the power an art of his Shadow affinity would give and though making a single one cost a fortune as they had to be created specifically for the cultivator, it was well worth the price in his mind. After all, no matter what the Elders said, having an art that fit the themes of your House did a lot to improve one’s standing within it.

Sebel didn’t have too much time to dwell on this though. A volley of arrows, dripping with green venom plunged down from the sky and everyone hastened to get out of the way.

"Press forward!" someone screamed amidst the metallic symphony of combat. "For Lady Saada, for the Redwood!"

"Defend our home!" countered a Whiterose warrior, the clash of steel punctuating his cry. “Defend the dragons!”

Sebel frowned at that. How did they figure out our intentions? He wondered. We must have gotten too close to the nest for comfort. He observed as Tolu expertly blocked an attack, her eyes fierce with a determination that overshadowed any fear she may have had just moments ago. A sense of pride swelled within Sebel as he watched his delicate friend holding her own. This was more than just a territorial battle; it was a test of their willpower, a trial that would either strengthen them or break them. And it seemed that Tolu, like a hummingbird in flight, was finally rising to the challenge.

"Stay close," Sebel called over the din, as soon as she had dispatched the cultivator she was fighting. "Don't lose yourself in the frenzy."

"I won't," she promised before a fresh pair of Whiterose soldiers emerged from nowhere and claimed her attention.

As the two sides collided, the air became a tapestry of shouts and cries, the ground a canvas painted with the hues of valour and despair. Sebel felt the ebb and flow of the conflict like a pulse beneath his skin, every heartbeat a step closer to triumph or oblivion. Their dance with death continued, the uncertain outcome hanging above them as precariously as the flare's fading light.

Then, through the cacophony of clashing blades and war cries, silence began to spread like ripples in a pond, commanding the attention of friend and foe alike. Sebel’s gaze darted upward as a figure rose above the melee, Elder Aina, the only Redwood Icon and Core Elder to accompany them on this trip. Her Domain ignited the air around her with a fearsome scarlet glow and clouds directly above her boiled and bubbled, as if attempting to flee. She was the storm personified, her Domain whispered. And to face her wrath was to court death.

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"Behold, children of the Rose," she intoned, her voice slicing through the tumult with chilling clarity. "Thy reckoning is at hand."

From the corner of his eye, Sebel saw Tolu's grip tighten on her weapon, her breaths coming in sharp bursts. The sight of Elder Aina hovering ominously, conjuring spheres of searing energy between her palms, seemed to send a spike of dread through every heart on the battlefield.

"Your end comes now!" Elder Aina proclaimed and released the gathered power in a cascade of destruction aimed directly at the Whiterose ranks, who braced for the impact.

Then, before her wrath could strike, another presence burst onto the scene, with an essence so potent it seemed to bend the very fabric of the world. It removed the crimson wave like an artist wiping away an errant stroke and as a gust of wind heralded her arrival, Sebel found himself staring at Elder Yasmin, the Icon of House Whiterose.

"Junior Aina," Elder Yasmin addressed the Core Elder, her voice steady yet laced with steel. "So, you live still. I must admit, I am surprised to see you not just alive but at the rank of Icon. You never did show much promise."

"Yasmin," Elder Aina sneered, her disdain palpable. "And what would you know of such things? Even at your peak, the Hurricane was not known for her wisdom in choosing students.” A head was tilted. “But you are not at your peak, are you? Tread carefully. Your past glories will not shield you from my power."

The two Elders locked eyes, their wills clashing invisibly yet potently, like colliding storms. Around them, the battle paused, warriors holding their breaths, aware that the clash of these titans would shape the course of their fate.

"You are not as you once were," Elder Aina declared, her fingers weaving complex runes that thrummed with power. Magenta sparks began to fly from her form. “Surrender now and I might consider sparing your life.”

"And you, as always, remain remarkably unfunny," countered Elder Yasmin, her stance unwavering, the air about her coming alive with a flurry of white flecks. “I think it's time this old teacher delivered one final lesson to a lost apprentice.”

"Enough talk!" Elder Aina spat and the sparks ignited into an inferno. "Let us conclude this."

"Agreed," said Elder Yasmin.

“Red Lightning!”

“Whispering Leaves!”

And Sebel only had enough time to dive away before the two techniques met in a cataclysmic explosion that split the dawn. Even that far up in the sky, even with both elders restricting their power to the other, the force of it sent everyone on the ground to their knees. A bolt of crimson electricity thrice the size of most trees smote the sky in twain only to be batted aside by a whirling sphere of white, razor-sharp leaves.

"Stay vigilant," he shouted to Tolu, his thoughts a whirlwind of strategy and concern as they both staggered to their feet. "This battle is far from over."

"Always," she responded, her focus never leaving the Elders' duel above. Her voice carried a tremor, betraying the awe and fear that gripped them all as the fate of everyone hung in the balance.

We can still win this, he thought. Aina is young and while Yasmin’s power is legendary, she is still old. We just have to buy her some time.

But before he could figure out how exactly they could do that, the sky ruptured with a roar that rent the air, eclipsing the din of battle below. Sebel’s heart sank as from the gash in the clouds surged a vanguard of dragons, six serpentine leviathans led by an emerald behemoth whose very presence seemed to shove aside the wind and rain. Their scales shimmered like wet leaves in a tempest as they descended, their eyes blazing orbs of ancient power and fury.

"Dragons," Sebel gasped, his voice lost beneath their thunderous arrival. "By the old gods…”

"Ancestors protect us," someone from the Redwood ranks prayed aloud, as the lead dragon, the hill-sized green titan, drew in a breath that seemed to suck in all air. Then, with a deafening bellow, it unleashed it back, a cascade of verdant luminance that washed over the field like a tidal wave.

"Shields!" Elder Aina commanded, erecting a dome of flickering red energy around her that absorbed the brunt of the dragon’s breath. But not all were so fortunate; Redwood and Ashfall cultivators caught unprepared writhed as the essence seared through their defences, peeling away layers of cultivated power as one might strip bark from a tree.

"Circle formation! Protect the Signs!" shouted a Redwood commander, but panic had already sunk its claws into their ranks, sowing disarray. Already the ten members of his squad, save for Tolu, had scattered like dry rice and everywhere he looked he saw cultivators either cheering or trying to dive out of the way of a fresh blast.

"Such power," Salim murmured, awe colouring his tone and Sebel paused to throw a scowl his way. First Tolu, now this one. Why, in the name of the old gods, were all of his frie… associates so weird? Nevertheless, he too watched as the remaining five dragons fanned out, their essence breaths painting the sky with destructive hues—fiery oranges, cool blues, and searing whites. Particularly destructive was the dark purple one; its breath seemed to remove everything it touched from existence.

As the dragons' assault continued, the lines of Redwood and Ashfall cultivators buckled, their formations fragmenting under the relentless tide. Cultivators who moments ago stood firm now fled, scrambling for cover from the onslaught. The essence breaths did not discriminate; they reshaped the terrain, blasted craters into the earth, and ignited the very air with their potency.

"Retreat may be our only option," Elder Aina snarled, her gaze locked on the dragons with venomous calculation. "But mark my words, this is far from over."

"Yielding to fight another day," Elder Yasmin replied, her voice drier than a desert. "Well Aina, I never expected you to have developed that much sense."

At this, a crazed defiance seemed to come upon the elder and her face contorted with rage.

"I’ll show you sense!" she screeched, sparks leaping defiantly from her as she sought to rally her forces. "Prepare to counterattack!"

"Madness," Sebel whispered to himself, watching the elder’s obstinacy in the face of certain destruction. Anyone with eyes could see that the dragons had completely shifted the tide of the battle. But wasn’t it said that the curse of the powerful was the inability to know when to flee? Sebel was thankfully unburdened with such an affliction.

"Stay close," he told Tolu, who nodded, her eyes wide with the spectacle unfolding before them. They were pawns in a game of kings and monsters, their survival balancing on the edge of a knife and he would be damned before he let them fall now. Spotting a few of his squad members clustered behind a tree, he seized Tolu by the hand, Salim hurrying behind them and they began to move.

***

Tolu's breath hitched in her chest as the dragons soared past, their massive wings casting oscillating shadows over the clashing armies. The lead dragon, a titanic creature of viridian scales, released another torrential breath, a maelstrom of swirling essence that twisted the world with its fury. Below, the once-formidable Redwood and Ashfall cultivators scattered like leaves in a tempest, their ranks decimated by overwhelming force.

"By the Ris, what are they doing here?" Tolu murmured, thunderstruck by the raw power on display. Her fear was a living thing, coiling tight around her heart. Yet, she couldn't tear her gaze away from the awe-inspiring sight of the dragons dominating the battlefield.

"A few riders must have obviously survived the purge," Sebel replied through gritted teeth, his hand reflexively tightening around the hilt of his sword. "Staying out in the open is a bad idea. We must find cover."

Salim, always the strategist, scanned the chaos with an analytical gaze. "If they decide we're a threat, our fates are sealed. We need to—"

"Hide! Now!" Sebel cut him off, urgency sharpening his voice to a command. His eyes flared at the sight of something behind them.

Tolu imagined leathery wings swooping down, imagined a toothed maw biting and closing like a vice and without hesitation, she turned on her heel and plunged into the underbrush, seeking any semblance of shelter. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she fought through the dense foliage. Branches clawed at her skin, whispering secrets to the wind, but she ignored the stinging pain, driven by that single, burning need for survival.

"Here, this way!" she called out, spotting a thicket robust enough to provide concealment. She dove into the bush, the branches parting reluctantly to envelop her in a green embrace. The earthy scent of the soil mingled with the metallic tang of blood hung thick in the air as the cacophony of battle raged mere strides away.

"Stay down," Sebel instructed, crouching beside her, his eyes reflecting the conflagration that raged beyond their leafy haven. "We cannot fight dragons. Our only option is to wait, to hope they do not seek us out."

"Hope? That's all we have left?" Tolu's voice trembled as she spoke, her inner turmoil evident. Memories of stories told by the fire flickered in her mind - tales of dragons and their riders who destroyed entire towns and villages for merely causing offence. And now, hope was all that remained for them?

"Sometimes, hope can be a powerful weapon," Salim offered, his words an attempt to ease the overwhelming despair that had consumed them upon the arrival of the dragon riders. It worked a little.

"Let's just stay alive," Sebel added pragmatically after a beat, his gaze locked on the shifting shadows cast by the whirling reptiles and Tolu nodded and pressed her back against the rough bark, closing her eyes as she tried to steady her racing heart. The heat of the dragons' essence breaths seemed to reach even into their hiding place, an ominous reminder of the destruction they wielded so effortlessly. Even now she could see the searing flames, the chilling frost, each breath an artist rendering the canvas of the world with strokes both terrible and beautiful.

"Are we going to make it?" Tolu whispered, half to herself, half as a prayer to any deity that might be listening.

"Shh," Sebel cautioned, his eyes meeting hers with a silent promise. "We'll make it through this together."

Huh, Tolu started in surprise. The situation really must be dire, if even he was getting sentimental.

In the dim shelter of the bush, surrounded by friends yet isolated in her dread, Tolu bowed her head, clutching the amulet that hung around her neck.

Please Mother, Father, ancestors of the Tobarin line… Hear the prayers of your wayward daughter. Guard and protect her on this terrible day…

Sebel shifted, noticing something. He leaned in closer to her, his eyes darting around the chaos beyond their hiding spot. "Stay hidden," he murmured.

"Can you see anything?" Tolu asked, peering through the sparse cover, her eyes wide.

"Too well," Salim replied tersely, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon, ready to defend at a moment's notice.

It didn't matter in the end. The ground shook as another dragon swooped low, its wings churning the air into violent gusts that threatened to expose their hiding place. Tolu squeezed her eyes shut, her thoughts whirling like flowers caught in a storm and a sudden flare of bright light caused her to flinch. Her heart pounded as she risked a glance and witnessed the intensity of an ongoing clash—some brave fool had attacked the dragon and it had come down to deal with the threat.

Which, unfortunately, turned out to be far too close to their hiding spot.

"Look out!" Tolu called out, but her warning was swallowed by the roar of another essence breath unleashed upon the battlefield.

The air shimmered with heat, the world warping as ten thousand streamers of dark blue cloth and thread exploded into whipping existence about them. One thread struck Tolu in the face before she could get away and sharp, spiky pain consumed her like an avalanche. Immediately she felt herself slipping, consciousness ebbing away like the tide retreating from the shore. Her grip on reality wavered, and she staggered, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Stay with me, Tolu." It was Salim’s calm voice, urgent yet grounding. "We have to get out of here."

"Trying..." Tolu managed, her voice a mere gossamer of sound.

"Fight it, Tolu," he implored, reaching for her hand.

But her strength was fading, the pull too strong. The sounds of battle grew distant as darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, the world narrowing to a single point of light before extinguishing completely.

As unconsciousness claimed her, Tolu was vaguely aware of a massive presence looming overhead. The white dragon with dark blue streaks hovered above her, its intelligent eyes piercing through the veil of her fading senses. Upon its colossal back, a girl with silver hair as bright as her dragon’s scales observed them curiously, head cocked to the side.

Dimly, Tolu felt Sebel and Salim sinking to their knees, their faces pressed into the ground. Why? She wondered. Even seated atop a dragon, this cultivator was still only one person.

But then she felt the girl’s aura, felt the coiled power contained within and understood at once.

Sigil.

“We surrender to you honoured cultivator and ask for mercy,” Sebel announced, his firm formal tone betrayed only by the tiniest quiver in his voice. “We are yours to do with as you will.”

The girl blinked twice, as though surprised by the turn of events and Tolu was sure breaths were taken and held in the few seconds it took her to think and then give a single, decisive nod.

And then the world slipped away entirely, leaving Tolu adrift in the abyss, her fate now intertwined with the whims of a dragon and its curious passenger.