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Chapter 15: Stormbound
The world shifted as Kaelen and Aeris crossed into the Frozen Expanse—a tundra untouched by time, where the snow fell sideways and the air tasted of lightning.
The sky cracked like glass as the Tempest Ring pulsed in the heart of the blizzard.
"No stars," Aeris murmured, peering into the white void. "Not even the sky dares look down on this place."
Kaelen's hand twitched. The rings hummed—especially the War Ring and the Fate Ring, as if bracing for a fight they'd rather avoid.
Something ancient stirred in the cold.
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The Storm General
They found her standing alone on a glacier: tall, armored in thunderclouds, wielding a jagged spear made of frozen lightning.
She was General Vaelra, Warden of Storms—and bearer of the eighth ring.
"You've come to take what isn't yours," she said, not unkindly. "They all do."
"I've come to finish what the world started," Kaelen replied.
Vaelra lifted her spear. "Then face the storm."
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The Battle Above the Ice
Their duel wasn't bound by ground. It was a war of wind and will.
Lightning lanced through the sky. Kaelen barely dodged each strike, his rings flaring to protect him—Frost slowing time, War redirecting force, Illusion twisting space.
But Vaelra was the storm. She didn't move like a warrior—she moved like the wind itself.
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Surrender of the Sky
At last, Kaelen dropped his sword.
Not in defeat—but in trust.
He let the storm wash over him—and did not fight it. The Tempest Ring responded.
It stilled.
The winds ceased.
The sky cleared.
And the ring floated to his hand.
Vaelra smiled softly. "You are not like the others. The Herald feared you for a reason."
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Eight Rings. And Doubt
That night, around a fire made from stormwood, Kaelen sat in silence.
Aeris asked, "How do you feel?"
"Like I'm becoming something I never wanted," he answered.
A shadow passed over the moon. A shape moved far above the clouds.
"The ninth is stirring," Kaelen whispered.
And in the deepest trench of the world's ocean, the Tide Ring opened its eye.
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