Zarek awoke to the sound of thunder still echoing through the canopy. Rain dripped from high above, gentle now, as though the storm had exhaled after its violent crescendo. His vision was blurred—mud caked his face, and pain roared in every joint like an angry tide. His ribs ached with each breath, and his left arm hung limp, likely dislocated. But through the agony, one thing pulsed stronger than pain: a spark.
He had wounded the beast.
That meant it bled.
Zarek pushed himself to his feet with a grunt, leaning against a tree slick with rain. Somewhere beyond the trees, beyond the mist and the scent of ozone and broken branches, the Zephyrwing had landed. He could feel it. His entire body, attuned now to the language of storms, throbbed with the presence of the creature. Its breath stirred the wind. Its heartbeat echoed in the sky.
"Still standing…" he whispered with a crooked grin, spitting blood into the soil. "Let's end this."
He followed the trail of destruction—crushed foliage, split trees, scorched earth. As he moved, the world seemed to shift around him. Every gust of wind carried whispers. Every flicker of light between clouds beckoned him onward. He was bleeding, half-dead, and yet, he had never felt more alive.
Lightning cracked. The Zephyrwing stood at the center of a clearing, one wing dragging, talons scorched. But it was still mighty—taller than a horse, its feathers flaring in shades of white-blue, arcs of lightning dancing across its back. Its eyes, twin orbs of furious stormlight, locked onto Zarek with primal defiance.
Zarek didn't wait. He charged, dragging what little strength he had left into his limbs. His gauntlets sparked, now pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He ducked under a swipe of talons and unleashed a bolt at point-blank range—striking the beast in its injured wing.
The creature shrieked, rearing up, summoning a cyclone that sent Zarek tumbling. He rolled, battered, barely managing to regain his footing before the beast descended again, wings slicing the air like blades. He dodged left—too slow—talons raked across his back, drawing a howl of pain from his lips.
But as the Zephyrwing soared upward, he focused—not just on lightning, but the storm above. The clouds rolled, trembling, answering him.
"I'm not trying to be the storm," he growled, eyes glowing faintly. "I am the storm."
He raised his hand.
From the heavens, a lance of pure lightning obeyed.
The bolt came down with divine fury, crashing into the Zephyrwing mid-flight. The clearing exploded in light. Smoke and feathers rained down. The beast hit the ground with a tortured scream, wings twitching, arcs of energy flickering across its broken body.
Zarek stumbled forward. He collapsed to his knees beside the creature, whose eyes now burned dim. Its chest rose and fell once, then again, then stilled.
From its body, energy rose like mist—azure, vibrant, crackling. It gathered above the carcass, spiraling, sensing Zarek's claim. He reached up, even as his vision darkened.
It struck him like a second storm.
He screamed.
Power surged through every nerve, scalding and electrifying. His body arched, muscles locking. Symbols glowed briefly on his skin—runes shaped like clouds and thunderbolts—before fading into nothing. Then silence. Cold and heavy.
Kenneth and Kael arrived minutes later, racing through the forest with panic on their faces. Kenneth's eyes widened at the destruction—the cratered earth, the charred trees, the still body of the Zephyrwing—and the broken form of Zarek lying amidst it all.
"Zarek!" Kenneth knelt beside him, shaking his shoulder. "Zarek, wake up!"
Zarek's eyes fluttered open. "I got it," he whispered hoarsely. "I caught the storm…"
Malrik emerged from the trees with haste. He knelt beside Zarek, opening a leather pouch and slipping bitter-smelling herbs into the boy's mouth. "Foolish, reckless boy. You could've died."
Zarek coughed, a weak laugh escaping his throat. "Didn't want to be left behind…"
Kael watched as tendrils of lightning flickered subtly around Zarek's shoulders—wisps trailing skyward.
Malrik stared long at the boy, then said, "You command more than just lightning now… you command the sky."
Zarek, half-conscious, grinned. "Told you I'd fly."