The first shriek split the sky.
The Sky Reavers dove from the smoke, their obsidian wings slicing through the ash-filled wind. Their eyes burned molten red, and their talons could cleave through steel like cloth. Each was the size of a wagon, a nightmare of scales and hunger.
The caravan erupted in motion. Traders scrambled behind wagons, Ashborn soldiers locked their shields together, and the armored beasts strained against their harnesses, roaring in panic.
"Form ranks!" the Ashborn commander barked. "Shields high! Archers, bring them down!"
Bolts of aura-tipped arrows streaked upward, flaring gold and silver against the black wings. A few struck true, but most shattered harmlessly against the Reavers' armored hides. The first beast hit the ground with a thunderous impact, scattering soldiers like toys.
Ryan's shard throbbed like a second heartbeat, urging him forward. Fire rose in his veins, searing and alive.
Kaelin's voice cut through the chaos. "Ryan! With me!"
She sprinted toward the fallen Reaver, blade gleaming with silver aura. Theron charged alongside her, his axe glowing with crimson runes. Lyra raised her staff, a dome of protective light flickering into place over the wagons.
Ryan followed, feet pounding against the dirt. The heat in his chest built until he thought he would combust. His vision sharpened, every detail painted in fire — the shimmer of the Reaver's wings, the cracks in its armored scales, the rhythm of its claws.
It lunged.
Kaelin slid beneath its strike, her blade flashing, carving a streak of silver light across its underbelly. Theron swung his axe, the blow so heavy it cracked scales with a roar of sparks.
"Ryan!" Kaelin shouted. "Now!"
He didn't think. He let the shard guide him.
Aura erupted from his hands — flame edged with blue. He thrust it forward, and a torrent of fire burst forth, striking the Reaver square in the chest. The beast shrieked, wings flaring as fire licked across its scales.
The recoil nearly threw him backward, but he forced his stance wide, his teeth gritted.
The Reaver thrashed, smoke rising from its chest, but it wasn't down. It spun, tail whipping. The blow caught Ryan hard across the side, sending him crashing into the dirt.
His vision blurred. The shard pulsed again, harder now, demanding he rise.
He spat blood, pushed himself up, and met the beast's gaze. "Not this time."
---
Above them, more Reavers dove. The Ashborn shields buckled under the impacts. One wagon toppled, crates shattering, aura stones spilling across the dirt. Traders screamed.
Lyra raised both hands, runes flaring brighter. A wall of shimmering light slammed into place, forcing one Reaver to veer off. Sweat beaded her brow, her voice a strained whisper. "I can't… hold this for long…"
"Then we finish them fast!" Theron roared.
Kaelin locked eyes with Ryan. "Do you trust me?"
His chest still burned from the shard's fire, but he nodded. "Yeah."
"Then follow my lead."
She sprinted straight at the Reaver's throat. Ryan matched her stride, the shard flaring hotter with each step. The beast lunged, jaws wide —
Kaelin leapt, blade carving upward in a streak of silver. At the same instant, Ryan thrust his aura forward. Flames surged around her strike, weaving with her silver arc. The combined force struck true.
The Reaver's neck split in a burst of light and fire. Its body convulsed before collapsing to the ground with a thunderous crash.
The battlefield fell silent for a breath.
Then the other Reavers screamed as one, their cries sharper, angrier.
---
The Ashborn commander barked orders again. "Second rank! Spears up!"
But Ryan barely heard him. His body shook, not from weakness — from power. The shard pulsed, whispering more, more, burn them all.
Kaelin grabbed his wrist, grounding him. Her eyes locked on his, fierce and steady. "Stay with me. Don't lose yourself."
Her touch steadied the fire enough for him to breathe. He nodded, though the shard's hunger still throbbed at the edges of his mind.
Above, three Reavers circled for another dive. The commander cursed. "We'll never hold them all!"
Lyra staggered, her barrier flickering. "Ryan… now is the moment. Let the shard flow, but direct it."
He clenched his fists, heat coiling in his core. Flames bled from his skin, golden streaks flickering with hints of blue. He felt the weight of Kaelin's grip on one side, the calm certainty of Lyra's voice on the other.
And for once, the fire didn't spiral out of control. It bent. It obeyed.
The Reavers dove.
Ryan raised both arms. Fire burst upward in a wide arc, a storm of flame that met the diving beasts midair. The blast lit the sky like a second sun. One Reaver screeched, wings igniting before it plummeted in a trail of fire. Another veered away, smoke trailing its scales. The last smashed into the ground, crippled, where Theron's axe finished the job with a brutal swing.
Silence followed, broken only by the crackle of burning earth.
The Ashborn soldiers lowered their shields, stunned. Traders peeked out from behind wagons.
Ryan collapsed to one knee, breath ragged, the shard's glow fading back into a steady thrum. His body trembled, but he was alive. More than that — he'd fought, and won.
Kaelin knelt beside him, her hand still gripping his wrist. Her silver eyes softened, pride flashing beneath her steel. "Not bad, stray. Not bad at all."
Lyra approached, her hand brushing his shoulder, warm and grounding. "You see? The shard doesn't control you. You control it."
Ryan looked between them — Kaelin's fierce, almost-smiling gaze, Lyra's calm and radiant warmth. His chest tightened, but he pushed the thought away.
For now, there was only the fire, the ash, and the knowledge that he had survived.
The Ashborn commander finally stepped forward, armor scorched, expression grim. He eyed Ryan with new calculation.
"Stray or not… you just earned your place."