His soul was shaking apart. The particles of his spirit, from tether to Fundament, were being riven into dust by sheer force of mana. First Order overwhelming Second by sheer raw might of numbers.

Sandstorm Vortex lived up to its name. Chaos streamed from him, the once tight aura of sand now streamed over thirty feet from his yellow glowing form. Sand thrashed the air, forcing all but Saleema distant. The surviving tethered were fleeing. Near a dozen running with Dovar, Grev, and Ayvir in the center.

Saleema had just looked up from her severed arm when Ranvir struck out. The backswing of his fist, talons of hardened sandstone glittering in the dawn light, took her in the jaw.

She exploded away from him, blowing past the dome and back into the forest towards the academy. Ranvir laughed at the sheer force of his new mana. It devolved into a coughing fit. Spitting sand from his dry mouth, he pursued.

Amanaris tore through him, bleeding into everything. Mana streamed through in a torrent unimaginable, except for the one other source to match the power now raging through him. He lashed forward towards that singular mote of power. And he drew fully, enough sand mana to be a desert unto itself.

Saleema screamed in rage, lifting her half-restored arm. Space whipped out, impossibly fast and unstoppable. In a blink, Ranvir was elsewhere. Trapped outside of Vednar, already he sensed her hand in severing the connection to the plane. Loce streamed from him, subverting her control, and he found his beacon.

A moment later, he returned to the plane. She flicked him again, but this time he was prepared. Loce attacked the oncoming web, yet she remained too fast. He’d found it. Finally, he pushed her to reveal her attuned technique.

He just had to pick his returns more carefully.

She was skirting the edge of the academy when he appeared again. Dune Blow shattering the wall running the perimeter of the school. Sand and dirt erupted from the impact. Her spirit shook under the impact. She vanished, reappearing soon on top of the Master’s Tower.

The obsidian spire rose higher than any other building in the academy, even towering above all but the Queen’s Palace itself.

“It’s almost disappointing.” Ranvir called. “Your Attuned Technique. So simple. So boring.” Loce burst from the windows and trapdoor, swarming around the roof. She pushed through with raw force of power, directly into Ranvir.

His blow, striking to resonate back through his arm and shoulder, took her deep in the chest. She blew through the Master’s Tower at a diagonal, sending the top third tumbling. He let the ruins finish collapsing, leaving but a shell of the black rise remaining. Until finally, all that was left of the impact was broken stones and Saleema’s wheezing.

He spat more sand from his mouth, trails of grains detailing his fingers and up to his knuckles. He watched as she took a piece of rubble. Small like her pebbles. She began layering power and power into it.

“We’ve been here before Saleema.” He attacked again. She struck out as well, venting him off the plane again. Returning, he found her fleeing. Still clutching that damned stone.

He pursued, catching her more often than she managed to vent him. Seizing her by the jaw, he slammed her into the ground. Her features were obscured by dirt and snow, legs kicked feebly. Her spirit shook and quivered as she began restoring herself.

Space compressed and she delivered a catapulting punch that threw her from the ground even as it took him on crossed arms.

Tingling pains shot up to his shoulders and neck as he slid back through the snow. Before she could right herself and follow up, she took a hook. Debilitating force drove her through the senior most classes’ dorms. The building remained standing despite the person-sized hole in the wall.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Each time he connected, her spirit shook to the core. Each driving attack held her closer to the knife’s edge. Pushed her further and further from her once unassailable position. Even now, the fight had completely changed. She was no longer the same combatant she’d been five minutes ago.

Aches ground against his wrist, the trails of sand burrowing past the joint. He cleared a rough throat, the sensation like two grinding stones rubbing together. He staggered after her, forcing his limbs to keep moving, keep pursuing.

Inside the dorm, she flared another layer of power. Then began her escape. She was clumsier now. Slower. Ranvir narrowed his eyes, changing to Sand Bastion. The Ability barely held together. It was harder to control than Sandstorm Vortex, and without Latresekt’s Spawn, he couldn’t have done it.

Was it even any stronger than Vortex was at this point? His lack of control might be showing. Saleema suddenly staggered, her expected portal flickering for a moment. Ranvir struck, seizing on her neck with taloned fingers. Black claws now tan and the edges crumbling away. They bit her resistant skin, unable to punch through.

Mana pulsed around her. Compression. He realized with a jolt, then another a something like a shock moved through him. She pushed away, but he seized a tighter hold. Cold invaded his face, seeping in to chill his bones. Drawing like an apparition through his emotions. Cold billowing realization.

He coughed, clotted sand the color of blood. He cupped his chest, feeling the warm seep through a hole where his lungs should be.

“It’s almost pathetic,” she said, pushing at his arm. Her hands shook as well. “How hard you’ve pushed me.”

He sank his fingers in deeper. “You forget, Saleema. I Persist.” Digging in deep, he burrowed to the core of his soul. One last time.

----------------------------------------

Saleema felt the fight. She could feel the lingering effects of days of combat.

It was a nagging burrowing pit in her stomach. Hunger.

A throbbing, pulsing pain from her knuckles, to wrist, to elbow. Pain.

It was a miserable, sullen succumbing in her back, the inevitable bend of the spine. Exhaustion.

It was a pressure, building and building and building. Higher, yet higher. Ranvir.

He was dying, she could see that. His body being consumed by power. Turning into sand. Yet he wouldn’t let go. She—

Something shifted inside him, sliding into place. Winds picked up and his claws sank in just a hint deeper. Stifling a wince, she gathered herself to throw him off. A coughing fit interrupted her.

Spitting blood onto his chest, she clutched her own torso. She’d struck through herself in order to hit him, which was fine. She could recover. She would recover. She had recovered before. Once he died, she would find the rest of the rats and finish this.

I will tear them apart. Piece by piece. Rip off their arms and legs. They try to kill me? To take the life of me and my son? She blinked and shook her head. Her son was dead, both were.

Something was happening. Nearby.

The boy. Son! Ranvir, she forced her mind in order. His flesh-mangled arm was still digging into her neck. Sisters. She was exhausted. She shook as if she hadn’t eaten in days. What had happened?

The Fight.

She blinked as the boy straightened. This close, she could see those eyes. Reminding her more of Father than her own. Clearer, purer. She shook her head. That wasn’t the truth, and she knew it. They were right. There was something wrong with her, her eyes. Deeper as well.

Winds were tearing around the two of them now. She took in a deep breath, only a twinge of pain left. There was still a gaping hole in Ranvir’s chest. A death blow. In time. His Concept could not save him, only postpone the inevitable.

A new power roared up within him. Culminating in a throat ripping, keening screaming. He whipped his head back, throat red and veined with the effort. His wings had grown larger, a smaller secondary pair appearing underneath. His other had shifted as well.

He seized her throat, looking into those animal eyes. “Ranvir,” she croaked.

----------------------------------------

Graywing stretched the new body. Dying body. Weakening body. Graywing let his indignation show through the rolling tilt of his wing, the cock of his head. Then he tossed the interloper away.

Above, he formed the Storm. The Hammer force of its true power. Yet there was more now. Something deeper. His brotherhood surged to surround him, insectile and myriad. Another, a… sister dwelled within containing the man. He was not needed for this. He could not for what was coming.

He lacked the control.

Storm bolts raced after the woman, but they lacked the raw force Graywing required. Drawing on the fountain of endless power, he altered them. The first two, originals, struck to stagger the interloper. Then the second pair tore chunks from her. The fifth staggered her into his follow up.

Wrapped in angry sands, Graywing lay devastating attacks on her endlessly. Slamming her into the frozen mountain. Enormously cold and filled with power. She kicked him off and he staggered under sudden dizziness.

Falling to a knee, Graywing looked up as the woman rose. She was approaching her end as well. Just not fast enough. It would have to do.

The brotherhood, now high in the sky intermingling with The Storm, descended. They held against Graywing’s attack, like flesh against talon.

The pillar descended on woman and dome, and Graywing let out a keening cry.