The air inside the cavern shook with another deafening roar. Jagged stones cracked loose from the ceiling, raining down in bursts. Jorin moved first, lightning already coiling across his arms, a blinding white that hissed and sparked against the dark.
The beast bellowed, its tusked head swinging toward him. Its body was a mountain of rock and muscle, claws gouging trenches into the cave floor. When it reared back and spat a barrage of stone, the air itself seemed to break apart.
Jorin planted his heel, lightning lashing forward like a whip. The first stone exploded midair, then another, but one blast slipped through and smashed into his chest. The impact sent him sliding back across the ground, boots grinding on stone. Dust clouded around him. He coughed once, wiped blood from his lip, and straightened. "You'll have to do better than that," he muttered, though his knuckles were trembling faintly.
The beast stomped forward, each step rattling the cavern walls. Jorin struck again, lightning splitting into three streaks that carved black lines across its rocky hide. The strikes burned bright, but when the light faded, the beast was still standing. Its cracked skin was already hardening back together.
"Damn thing's tougher than it looks," Jorin growled, circling, sparks dancing at his feet.
The dust swirled thick at the back of the cave, blotting out everything else. Kael lay somewhere within that haze, unseen, unmoving. To anyone watching, he might have already been gone.
But then—
[Kael.]
The voice cut through the chaos, steady, unyielding.
[You are ready.]
Kael's eyes snapped open. At first, the dust was only shadows shifting in the half-light. But when he lifted his arm, the tattoo that branded his skin burned to life. It was no longer just a mark — it glowed, dark and bright at once, spreading warmth and ice through his veins.
He pushed himself up slowly, each breath drawing fire deeper into his chest. Something was different. He wasn't trembling anymore. His body felt heavier, stronger, as if it had been reforged in silence.
Ahead, he glimpsed Jorin in flashes of white lightning, moving faster than Kael's eyes could follow, each strike a blur. Yet even Jorin — the man everyone feared, the man of thunder and storms — was barely holding the beast at bay.
Kael clenched his fists. His lungs burned. Nathan's voice hummed again, almost amused.
[Breathe. Feel it. Let it out.]
He drew in one deep breath. For a moment, he swore the air itself thickened around him.
Heat gathered in his palm — faint at first, like the ember he had felt days ago. But this time it did not sputter or vanish. It grew. It pressed harder, heavier, until his hand shook with the force of it.
The cave's dust seemed to collapse inward, sucked toward him as if the world itself had leaned closer. Kael gritted his teeth and pushed.
Boom.
The sound was not thunder. It was deeper, rawer — the sound of something being born.
Purple-black energy flared from his hand, solidifying in a rush of cold and heat at once. When the light faded, a weapon remained, trembling in his grip.
A dagger.
Its blade was long, jagged, forged of shadow and firelight twisted together. Small arcs of violet flickered across the edges, each spark vanishing before it touched the ground. It hummed with a life of its own, as though it had been waiting for centuries to be called.
Kael stared at it, his chest heaving. He should have felt afraid. Instead, a calm settled over him. The fear was gone, replaced by something fiercer, sharper.
Behind him, Nathan's voice whispered with quiet satisfaction:
[Welcome, Kael. The first of your weapons.]
Kael raised the dagger, its edge catching the stray gleam of Jorin's lightning. For the first time since stepping foot in the academy, he did not feel powerless.
He felt… inevitable.