Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
"ENOUGH!" Typhon's voice thunders aloud for all to hear. "YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HER."
Lightning splits the sky as Typhon launches himself at the windborne's elemental. Not the careful, measured combat of before, but an unleashing of raw, ancient power. Water magic explodes from his jaws in a torrent that would put a hurricane to shame, cutting through the air elemental like a blade through mist.
The attack makes the windborne turn and take notice, forgetting me as his elemental fights for survival.
The elemental tries to reform, but Typhon doesn't give it a chance. He gathers his massive body, then slams down with such force that the ground shudders. Water essence radiates outward in concentric rings, disrupting the very magic that holds the elemental together.
The windborne falters, clearly shocked at facing the unrestrained might of an ancient. His elemental dissolves completely under Typhon's assault, wisps of air magic scattering in the wind.
"Impossible," the windborne breathes, backing away.
Typhon's answer is another devastating attack, his claws slashing through air and rain to pin the windborne to the mud. The assassin uses some kind of air magic to free himself, barely dragging himself out of Typhon’s grip. But Typhon is prowling toward him, deadly and terrible.
As Typhon holds the windborne’s attention, I see Raith's form materializing through the rain. His eyes catch the lightning as he moves with predator's silence behind the distracted windborne. In one smooth motion, he draws his blade across the assassin's throat.
Blood mingles with the rain as the windborne's body goes limp. Again, no stasis. Just death.
I feel relief, but it’s only temporary.
The power I've drawn is too much, burning through me like wildfire. My legs give way beneath me as my vision narrows to pinpricks.
"Nessa!" Raith's voice reaches me as if from underwater.
I sense Raith rushing toward me.
Typhon’s massive form curls protectively above me, sheltering me from the rain.
Lightning flashes once more, illuminating the battlefield in stark relief. Thunder crashes so loudly it seems to shake the world itself.
Then darkness swallows me whole as I collapse into the mud.
Through the tether, I feel Raith's panic as my consciousness fades.
"Nessa!" His voice sounds so far away, drowned out by the pounding rain and rumbling thunder. And then nothing.
39
RAITH
"Nessa!"
I watch her collapse into the mud, her body crumpling like a marionette with cut strings. Through our tether, I feel her consciousness slip away—not the sudden flash of stasis, but something deeper, more dangerous. A void where her vibrant presence should be.
The windborne's body lies motionless beside her, throat cut clean through, his blood mixing with the rain and mud. A necessary death. One I don't regret.
Typhon shudders, his massive form retracting slightly as the strain of unleashing his true power takes its toll. Blue essence still leaks from wounds across his scales, but the ancient water dragon curls protectively around Nessa's unconscious form, wings forming a canopy against the relentless downpour. His teeth are bared and sapphire magic seeps from between them, as if warning off any who would dare get close.
"She draws too deep," Typhon's voice resonates directly in my mind, surprising me. We've never communicated directly before. "The essence she took from the windborne... it overwhelms her."
I drop to my knees beside her, pressing my fingers to her throat. Her pulse flutters erratically beneath my touch, too fast and too weak. "What can I do?" I demand, looking up at the ancient dragon.
"End the Crucible," Typhon replies, his massive head lowering until one blue eye is level with mine. "The ceremonial blade. If you claim it, this ends. She will be weak for a time. Vulnerable. End this, Raith Hollow. It’s the only way to protect her.”
I hesitate, torn between staying at her side and the knowledge that Typhon is right. Every second the Crucible continues puts her at greater risk. “Do you have the strength to guard her while I’m gone?”
Typhon's head draws back slightly, a flash of indignation crossing his ancient features. "With my last breath," he rumbles. "She is my tethered. Mine to protect. But if this Crucible continues for too long, I fear more of the windborne will come. You must end it. Now."
I nod, trusting the ancient's word despite everything. "Keep her safe."
Movement makes me draw my sword in an instant, fire flaring in my free hand. I lower my weapon when I realize who it is.
Bastian is struggling to his feet, pristine uniform now filthy and covered in a combination of blood and mud. He is dragging himself toward us, face contorted in pain. “You have to go,” he says through his teeth.
“And leave you alone with her? Not a fucking chance.”
“Then trigger my stasis. But go, Hollow. And know this. The other legacies aren’t following orders. You won’t only face a pair of two down there. They’re working together, guarding the quarry from all sides. You’ll have to fight your way through quickly and reach the blade before the others get to you. The blade is enchanted. Touch it and you’ll be teleported back to Confluence along with everyone else who lives. Touch it, and this all ends.”