Outside, lightning flared once more over the mountains, faint but pulsing, as if in answer. Somewhere beneath the storm, Nyxariel stirred.
Chapter
Seventeen
The Scorchfield still smelled like failure. Even repaired, the dome whispered of the day it shattered, of lightning and broken glass and the roar that had torn the sky open. Thaelyn’s chest tightened as she stood on the same floor that had once cracked beneath her feet. The scars in the stone remained, faint but undeniable, twisting outward like veins of guilt.
She was responsible for this. She still didn’t even know how it happened. The air here was thicker somehow, charged, as if the walls remembered her storm better than she did.
Commander Dareth stood high on the balcony, arms folded, a dark sentinel above them all. He hadn’t said a word since she arrived. He didn’t need to. His silence carried enough weight.
Vaelen Solen paced the arena’s edge, long robes whispering against the scorched floor. His silver eyes gleamed with something between curiosity and dread. “Power leaves echoes,” he said, almost to himself. “Aether most of all. It seeps into the air, the stone, even into the soul.”
Thaelyn stared down at her bandaged hands. The faint shimmer of silver still lingered beneath her skin, quiet now, but pulsing with memory. She couldn’t forget the look on everyone’s faces when the dome exploded. Not awe. Fear.
“Cadet Marren.” Thaelyn flinched as Vaelen’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Are you listening?”
“I’m trying,” she said, though it sounded thin. Trying not to think, not to feel.
“Good,” he said, though his tone softened. “Because what comes next will test more than your strength. It will test whether you can trust the storm not to devour you.”
Her throat tightened. “And if I can’t?”
Vaelen’s smile was small, knowing. “Then it will eat you alive.”
Before Thaelyn could respond, the air shifted. Thaelyn felt it before she saw him, the heat, the stillness. The subtle pull in her chest like a tether gone taut. Thorne.
Thorne strode across the arena, dark leather training gear moulding to every line of his frame, sleeves rolled to his forearms, fresh scars still cutting across his skin. Even bruised, he carried himself like someone the world should get out of the way for.
Thaelyn hated that about him. The arrogance. The composure. The way the room bent around his presence. He was everything she wasn’t: disciplined, precise, and always in control. And worse: he knew it.
Their eyes met. The pull inside her deepened, not gentle, not kind, but gravitational. Like the storm inside her remembered his fire.
Vaelen watched them both with a faint, unnerving smile. “Ah. There it is again. The tether.”
Thorne broke eye contact first. “If you’re about to tell me this is safe, don’t bother.”
“Safety is a myth,” Vaelen said. “Survival, however, can be taught.”
Thaelyn crossed her arms. “I didn’t ask to be part of this, whatever this is.”
Thorne gave a humorless laugh. “Trust me, Cadet Marren, no one’s thrilled about it.”
The jab hit sharper than she expected. She bit back the urge to tell him he didn’t know what it was like to wake up in pain and not knowwhy.
Commander Dareth’s voice carried from above, low and commanding. “Enough. You’re here to train, not tear each otherapart. You’ll work together until you can control the resonance. If you fail, the next collapse could take the mountain with it.”
Thaelyn’s jaw clenched. “No pressure.”
Vaelen stepped back, eyes gleaming faintly. “Begin.”
Thorne drew his training blade, its edge dull but gleaming with heat. The metal pulsed faintly, alive with his Fire. He didn’t even have to try; control came to him like breath.
Thaelyn hated how easy it looked. She raised her hands, uncertain. The air trembled faintly around her fingertips, hesitant and watchful.
“Breathe,” Vaelen called. “Not too calm. Toopen.”
Thaelyn tried. Air filled her lungs, slow and sharp. She reached for the thread of wind that had once lifted her, the same current that had turned to fury inside her chest. For a heartbeat, it answered. Silver light shimmered along her wrists.
