Kaela's collapse sent the common hall into chaos. One moment she had been smiling faintly over her bowl of stew, the next she slumped forward, her spoon clattering against stone as her body went rigid. Flynn reached her first, catching her before her head struck the table.
"What's happening?" he demanded, cradling her unconscious form. The warmth had drained from her skin, leaving it cold as mountain stone. "This isn't corruptionâit's something else."
Thalia knelt beside them, pressing her fingers to Kaela's throat. The girl's pulse fluttered weakly, her breathing shallow. Most alarming was the peculiar absence where her storm-presence should beâas if something had hollowed her out from within.
"Get her to the healing chamber," Thalia ordered, rising swiftly. "Elyra, bring your strongest willow tincture and the silver ash."
Daro lifted Kaela's limp form with gentle efficiency, her head lolling against his broad chest as he carried her down the corridor. The others followed in tense silence, their faces grim in the torch-lit passage.
In the circular healing chamber, Daro laid Kaela on the central stone platform. The silver veins in the marble, which typically sparked in response to her storm energy, remained dull and lifeless.
"This is unlike any corruption I've seen," Elyra murmured, mixing powdered silver ash with willow root. "Her storm isn't fighting back. It's as if it's been... muffled."
Riven circled the platform, his hand hovering inches above Kaela's motionless form. "It's not gone," he said slowly. "It's being suppressed. Something is interfering with her connection."
Flynn paced the perimeter of the chamber, unable to stand still. "Could it be the Hunters? Some new tactic?"
"Possibly," Thalia replied, her bare feet silent on the stone floor as she gathered focusing crystals from a nearby shelf. "But this feels different from Hunter corruption. More... deliberate."
"We haven't much time," Elyra warned, tilting Kaela's head back to administer the tincture. "Her body temperature continues to drop."
"If her storm is being suppressed," Daro said, his voice a low rumble as he stoked the chamber's hearth higher, "then perhaps we need to find a way to amplify it. Force it past whatever's blocking it."
Riven's head snapped up. "That's too dangerous. If we push her storm while it's unstable, we risk accelerating the corruption."
"If we do nothing, she dies," Flynn countered, his usual playfulness vanished. "Her storm has been protecting her from the taint. Without itâ"
"I know what happens without it," Riven cut in sharply. "I've seen it before."
A heavy silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the crackle of the fire and Kaela's increasingly laboured breathing.
"We have options," Thalia said finally, placing the crystals in a circle around Kaela's form. "Traditional methods: the willow tincture, boundary wards, purification ritualsâ"
"Which takes hours to prepare," Flynn interrupted. "Look at her. She doesn't have hours."
Elyra touched Kaela's forehead, her expression grave. "Flynn's right. The chill is deepening. Whatever this is, it's draining her life force, not just her storm."
Riven moved to the chamber's eastern alcove, where ceremonial tools hung on the wall. He returned with a slender silver needle. "There's another way. The awakening spike."
Thalia inhaled sharply. "Riven, that's only to be used in the final stages of bearer trainingâwhen they're ready to fully commune with their storm."
"She's not ready," Elyra agreed. "The shock could overwhelm her system."
"Or it could break whatever hold is suppressing her storm," Riven countered. "It's designed to forge a direct channel between bearer and storm."
Daro stepped between Riven and the platform. "And kill her if the connection is too strong."
"Enough!" Thalia's command silenced the room. "We need to make a decision, and quickly."
The five Sentinels formed a circle around Kaela's platform, each face illuminated by the dancing firelight as they weighed their limited options.
"The traditional methods are safe but slow," Thalia summarised. "The awakening spike is immediate but dangerous."
"There is one other option," Elyra said quietly. "One we've never attempted."
All eyes turned to her.
"The boundary link," she continued. "If we each offer a portion of our own essenceâour life forceâwe could temporarily strengthen her storm boundary from the outside, giving it the power to push back against whatever's suppressing it."
Daro frowned. "That would weaken our wards. Leave the sanctum vulnerable."
"And us with it," Riven added. "If Hunters attack while we're depletedâ"
"They're already gathering," Flynn cut in. "What are we preserving our strength for if not for this?"
Thalia studied Kaela's pale face, her decision forming. "The boundary link is forbidden for good reason. It creates connections that aren't easily broken. We would be bound to her fateâand she to ours."
"I've already made my choice," Flynn said firmly. "I'll do it."
"As will I," Elyra nodded.
Daro sighed heavily. "There must be balance in all things. Count me in."
They looked to Riven, whose face remained impassive. After a long moment, he gave a curt nod. "Better to fall trying something new than repeat old failures."
"Then we all agreed," Thalia said. "Against all training and tradition, we will attempt the boundary link."
Moving with swift purpose, Elyra retrieved a small obsidian bowl from a cabinet and placed it at the head of the platform. "Each of us must contribute a drop of blood, freely given, to forge the connection."
One by one, they stepped forward. Flynn first, then Elyra, Daro, and finally Riven, each pressing the silver needle to their palm and allowing a single crimson drop to fall into the bowl. Thalia added hers last, then mixed the blood with silver ash and a few drops of willow extract.
"Form the circle," she instructed. "Hands linked, minds open."
They positioned themselves around Kaela, joining hands to complete the circle. Thalia dipped her finger into the mixture and traced a symbol on Kaela's forehead, then on each of their foreheads in turn.
"Now we reach for her storm," Thalia said softly. "Not to command it, but to remind it of its strength. To offer our own boundaries as channels for its power."
As they began their attempt to help Kaela, none of them noticed the small silver-grey bird perched outside the narrow window of the healing chamber, its unnaturally bright eyes fixed on the scene within.
Nor did they see it take flight moments later, winging swiftly through the mountain passes, carrying news to a figure waiting in the shadows beyond the valley's edgeâa figure whose eyes gleamed with the same electric light that had once stared into Kaela's on a misty ridge near Ashgrove.
----------------------------------------
Cold.
So cold that thinking hurts, like frost forming over my thoughts. My fingers won't move. My lips won't part. The void around me stretches in all directionsânot darkness, not light, just... nothing.
Where am I?
My storm. I can't feel my storm. For weeks, it had been a constant presence, sometimes raging, sometimes gentle, but always thereâa living counterweight to the corruption spreading from my shoulder. Now... emptiness.
I tried to speak, but my voice made no sound. My body drifts, anchored to nothing.
Let go, whispers something in the void. So much easier to let go.
A memory flickersâLior's eyes widening as lightning struck, his body falling into mud. The weight of him in my arms. The altar stone in splinters. My fault.
Yes, the whisper agrees. Your fault. Your burden. So heavy. Let it fall away.
The cold deepens, creeping into my bones, my blood turning to ice in my veins. I can't fight this. I can't even feel what I'm supposed to be fighting.
Just let go.
Would it be so terrible? To drift into this nothingness? To stop fighting? No more guilt. No more corruption burning in my veins. No more desperate training with Riven's wooden sword. No more Hunters stalking the ridges.
No more Mira or Mother, either.
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I try to clench my fists, but my hands have become mist. My thoughts scatter like ash in the wind.
Let... go...
Iâ
"KAELA!"
The voice crashes through the voidâmultiple voices, layered together. Flynn's pitch, Thalia's steadiness, Elyra's warmth, Daro's rumble, even Riven's edged clarity.
Something tugs at meânot physical, but essential. A thread of warmth threading through ice.
Then it comesâa rush of lightning-bright presence flooding back into me, frantic and fierce. My storm crashes into the void, shattering the stillness, spiralling around me in desperate arcs of blue-white light.
Found you. Got you. I'm sorry.
The familiar tingle races through my bodyâfingers first, then arms, then chestâdriving back the cold that had nearly claimed me. My storm wraps around me like an embrace, fierce and protective.
Never let go. Never again.
The light pulses, and suddenly I'm somewhere else: three years old, watching my father kneel before me in our cottage. His storm-grey eyes shine with unshed tears, and his hands tremble as he cups my face.
"I have to go," he whispers, his voice breaking. "The storm... my storm needs me. And somedayâ" He draws a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, little one. So sorry."
In his hands is a small brass compass, its surface etched with symbols I can't yet understand. He presses it into my tiny fingers, then draws it back, conflict warring across his features.
"No," he murmurs to himself. "Not yet. She needs to find her own path first." He tucks the compass carefully into his pack. "When she's ready... when the other bearers call to her... then she'll find it."
A blinding flash, and I'm eight again, following a dancing breeze into the forest. A shimmering figure hovers above a lightning-struck ash tree. Not quite human, not quite wind. It reaches for me with hands made of mist, touching my forehead with infinite gentleness.
Remember, it whispers, though its voice feels like coming home. When you are older, I will find you again. When you need me most.
The memories dissolve, but understanding dawns. The compass Mother gave meâit wasn't just my father's legacy. It was meant to guide me not just away from danger, but toward others like me. Other bearers. Other storms are calling across the vast emptiness between us.
My storm swirls tighter around me, its presence stronger than ever before. No longer just power or burdenâbut a companion. Guardian. The voice that had spoken to me in the forest when I was eight, promising to return.
Stay with me, it pleads, the voice clearer than I've ever heard it. Fight with me. They're helping us.
Through the storm's embrace, I feel themâfive tethers of warmth and life extending toward me. The Sentinels, somehow lending me their strength, their boundaries, pulling me back from the brink.
I reach for those tethers with everything I have left, and suddenly I'm gasping, my body jerking upward, the marble platform cold against my back. Five faces stare down at me with expressions ranging from relief to wonder.
My storm pulses beneath my skin, no longer lost. No longer alone.
Found.
----------------------------------------
The world returned to me in fragmentsâthe scrape of stone beneath my body, the distant crackle of a dying fire, and voices blending like water over river stones. My chest rose and fell; each breath was a small victory against the lingering cold that had tried to claim me.
"You're awake," Thalia said, relief flooding every syllable.
"Thank goodness," Elyra added, her gentle touch on my forehead checking to see if the cold still lingered.
"We thought we'd lose you," Flynn said, his usual lightness cracking at the edges.
I slowly opened my eyes, blinking against the dim light of the chamber. The stone ceiling above me swam into focus, its ancient carvings seeming to pulse with each beat of my heart. My limbs felt leaden, weighted by an exhaustion that reached bone-deep. When I tried to sit up, pain lanced through my chest, forcing a gasp from my lips.
They were all gathered around meâThalia, Elyra, Flynn, Daro, and even Riven, standing at the edge of the chamber. Their faces bore the drawn look of people who had wrestled with death and barely won. Dark circles shadowed their eyes, and their skin had a pallor that spoke of long vigils without rest.
"What happened?" I asked, my voice raw like the winter wind had scoured my throat. The simple act of speaking sent a tremor through my body.
Flynn leaned forward, his usually playful expression solemn. "You suddenly collapsed," he said. "Your temperature kept dropping. For a moment, we..." he hesitated, exchanging a glance with Thalia, "we couldn't feel your heartbeat."
"Your storm," Riven added from his post by the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, "it was absent too."
I closed my eyes, trying to piece together the fragments. At first, there was nothing but darkness behind my eyelids, thenâlike lightning striking a midnight landscapeâthe memory rushed back, sharp and cold. The awful, hollow chill that had swept through me, isolating me from everything warm and alive. Not just cold, but emptiness. An emptiness that had tried to devour me from within.
"It was just... too cold." I opened my eyes again, meeting each of their gazes in turn. My hands trembled as I pulled the blanket they'd laid over me closer to my chin. "It felt like something was trying to separate me from the storm. My storm."
"What do you mean?" Thalia asked, her voice tense with concern. She knelt beside me, her steady presence like a rock in a turbulent river.
"It's exactly what it sounds like." I struggled to sit up again, and this time, Elyra slipped an arm behind my shoulders, helping me lean against the chamber wall. The effort left me breathless, but I needed them to see my face, to know I wasn't delirious with fever or fear. "I have something to tell you. All of you."
They waited, the silence thick with anticipation. Daro moved closer, his large frame blocking some of the firelight, casting half his face in shadow. Even Riven stepped away from the wall, drawing near enough to hear clearly.
"I think something is specifically hunting me. It's not just random Hunters attacking; they are coming for me."
Daro frowned, his broad features creasing with concern. "What does that mean?"
"I told you before about the first Hunter I encountered, right? At that time, it said, 'Found you,' as if it had always been targeting me. I thought it was just acknowledging who I am, but what ifâ¦" I paused, and the pieces clicked together with terrible clarity. My heart pounded harder, and I felt my storm respond, a faint current running beneath my skin. "What if it actually wants my storm specifically? What if that's their real target?"
"Kaela," Thalia said, her voice urgent. She placed her hand over mine, warm and calloused from years of training. "Tell us everything you know."
And I did. About the Hunter's electric eyes and the way they seemed to recognise me. About how my storm had reacted on its own, defending me before I even knew I was in danger. About the whispers in my dreams that felt too real to be imagination. About Liorâhow the lightning that was meant for me had struck him instead. As I spoke, my voice grew steadier, drawing strength from finally sharing the burden I had carried alone for so long.
When I finished, the chamber fell silent except for the soft popping of the fire. Flynn stared at the floor, his fingers idly tracing patterns in the dust. Elyra's hand had moved to my shoulder, her touch both healing and anchoring. Thalia's brow was furrowed in thought, while Daro exchanged a meaningful glance with Riven.
"There's something more," I said after gathering my strength. "My father's compass. It should be in my pack, in my chamber."
Flynn nodded and slipped out, the sound of his footsteps fading down the corridor. The rest of us waited in a silence that felt charged with unspoken questions. When he returned moments later with the brass compass, I felt an odd mix of relief and trepidation wash over me.
I picked it up, feeling its familiar weight in my hand. The metal was cool against my palm, but not the unnatural cold that had tried to claim me earlier. I watched as the needle spun endlessly for a moment before suddenly stopping, pointing steadily to the northeast. Something inside me shifted in response, as though the compass had awakened a dormant part of my awareness.
"Oh," I breathed, a spark of hope kindling in my chest. "It works! Before, it just kept spinning endlessly."
Thalia stepped closer, studying the compass with narrowed eyes. "That's no ordinary compass," she said, her voice low with reverence.
"I know. My mother gave it to me before I left. She said Father used it as a guide before..." I stopped mid-sentence, sensing something new. Like gossamer threads stretching outward from my centre, I could feel delicate yet unmistakable connections reaching between me and each of the Sentinels. It was as though invisible strands linked us together, pulsing with a shared energy.
"Why do I feel... threads?" I asked, looking up at them in confusion. The compass trembled slightly in my hand, its needle wavering before settling again.
"What threads?" Flynn inquired, though his voice carried a hint of guilt that betrayed him.
"Something is connecting me to you. All of you." I set the compass aside on the stone floor and studied their faces, searching for answers. "The connections were subtle beforeâno, they were there, but not as strong." I focused on the sensation, tracing each thread back to its source. "What did you do?"
Silence stretched between us, heavy and revealing. The Sentinels exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them that excluded me entirely.
"I was definitely slipping away before. How did you bring me back?" When they still didn't answer, I pressed harder, my voice gaining strength from urgency. "Tell me. Please, I need to know."
Thalia exchanged glances with the others before speaking, her shoulders squaring as though bracing for a blow. "We... we performed a boundary link."
"A what?"
"A forbidden ritual," Riven said flatly from where he stood. His eyes, usually so guarded, now held a hint of vulnerability. "One that requires a piece of our life essence to reinforce your boundary with your storm."
"Your storm was being pulled away," Elyra explained, her healer's voice gentle but frank. "We couldn't reach it directly, so weâ"
"You put part of yourselves into me?" I stared at them in horror, the full implications crashing down like an avalanche. My storm stirred in response to my distress, and I felt the air in the chamber grow charged. "Are you insane?"
"You were dying," Flynn said, stepping forward. His usual playful demeanour had vanished, replaced by fierce conviction. "If we didn't do it, we could have lost you. It was the only way."
"It wasn't the only way!" I snapped, anger flaring hot in my chest. My storm responded to my emotion, crackling faintly beneath my skin. Small arcs of blue-white energy danced between my fingers. "If it went wrongâif I turned or diedâwhat would happen to you?"
"Weâ" Thalia began, but stopped as comprehension dawned on my face.
Realisation washed over me like cold water, extinguishing my anger and leaving only dread in its place. "You'll die with me. All of you. Tied to my fate."
"It was a temporary measure," Elyra said quickly, but the tension in her voice belied her reassurance.
"How temporary can it be? A week, a month, a hundred years?" I looked at each of them in turn, seeing the truth in their eyes even as they tried to hide it. "You didn't know, did you? But still, you did it. Recklessly."
"Kaelaâ" Thalia started, reaching for my hand.
I pulled away, the magnitude of their sacrifice crushing me with its weight. They had bound themselves to meâto my storm, to my corruption, to my uncertain future. And if I failed, if the darkness claimed me as it had claimed others, I would drag them down with me.
"This... this is too much." I turned away from them, unable to bear the sight of their concern. My throat tightened with emotionâgratitude mixed with fear, and hope tangled with guilt. "Please leave. Just... leave for now."
At my plea, Thalia replied quietly, her voice heavy with understanding, "We'll be at the common hall if you need anything."
One by one, they filed out of the chamber. Elyra squeezed my shoulder gently before leaving, and Flynn hesitated at the doorway as though wanting to say more. But in the end, he too disappeared into the corridor, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Once they were gone, I sank back against the wall, my strength utterly spent. The tears I had been holding back spilt freely down my cheeks, hot against my cold skin. My body shook with silent sobs that seemed to come from some deep, wounded place I hadn't known existed.
Through the blur of tears, I saw the compass lying where I had set it, its needle still pointing steadily northeast. I reached for it with trembling fingers, tracing the worn engravings on its brass case. It had guided my father once, through storms and dangers I could only imagine.
"What were you chasing, Father?" I whispered to the empty chamber, clutching the compass to my chest as though it could somehow connect me to him across the void of years. "How did you bear it all? The responsibility, the fear, the knowing that others depend on you?"