The air felt heavy.
Not with smoke or storm or the pressure of magic—but with the weight of parting. With the quiet understanding that once we stepped away from this ledge, the current group I'd grown familiar with would fracture into separate paths, and there was no knowing when—or if—we would cross paths again.
Skyreach stretched behind us in tiers of stone and canvas, a tent city carved from desperation and resilience. Wind whispered through the lines of tents, tugging at prayer ribbons knotted by shaking hands, fluttering banners stitched in shades of pale blue and white. Fires burned low between tents, smoke curling upward in thin, patient threads. Somewhere below the cliff-mouth, clouds rolled like a soft sea, indifferent to the choices being made above them.
Muir stood a short distance away with Tadewi, posture straighter than it had been since the battle, though a faint twinge in his face betrayed the tough guy persona he was putting on showing the truth of his pain. Every breath he took still carried effort. Every step was measured. But he stood anyway.
Revik lingered at my side, quiet as stone, gaze fixed on the horizon as though committing the sky to memory.
And the young girl now named Orenda—perfectly fitting for her.
Orenda hovered near my hip like a shadow that refused to be shaken.
She hadn't met my eyes since we'd arrived at the launch ledge. Just followed me, small boots crunching softly against the stone, fingers twisting in the hem of her sleeve. Her eyes tracked every movement we made, sharp and searching, as if afraid that if she looked away for even a heartbeat, everyone might vanish.
I knelt in front of her, the cold stone biting through the fabric at my knees.
She stiffened, then stepped forward without hesitation, small hands gripping the front of my cloak with surprising strength.
"Hey," I murmured, keeping my voice gentle.
She looked up at me—those bright, knowing eyes far too old for her age, far too steady for a child who had seen her home nearly torn apart by the dead.
"I'll see you soon," I promised. The words felt fragile, but I meant them anyway. "I trust Muir and Tadewi will take good care of you."
Her grip tightened.
For a moment, she didn't move. Then she nodded—once, firm and resolute.
Orenda squeezed me in a brief, fierce hug before stepping back. Her mouth twitched into a small, brave smile. I returned it, even as my throat tightened painfully.
When I stood, Tadewi was already facing me.
I opened my mouth to speak—
She lifted one hand, halting me before the words could form.
Her gaze held mine, sharp and steady, wind stirring the ends of her robes like restless wings.
"Do not waste breath questioning yourself," Tadewi said calmly. "My trust in you is not misplaced. Nor is the power the gods have gifted you."
The words settled deep.
"You doubt because you care," she continued. "Because you understand what is at stake. That is not weakness."
Her eyes softened—just a fraction.
"You are strong. You are intelligent. And you adapt when the world tries to break you. These are the traits that allow leaders to survive what destroys others."
Something twisted painfully in my chest.
"I would be honored," Tadewi said, "to fight beside you any day."
The wind shifted at her back, carrying the weight of an unspoken oath.
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "As long as you remain within the Air Nation, the winds will favor you. When you feel the change—when the air no longer answers you as it does now—you will know you have crossed the border."
Then she straightened and performed the traditional Air Nation farewell. I have only heard rumours about.
Precise. Reverent. Reserved for warriors and leaders both.
I mirrored it as best I could.
Not perfectly.
My stance faltered. My timing was slightly off. I caught the faint flicker of amusement in Tadewi's eyes—but there was no mockery there. Only approval.
A loud, deliberate throat-clearing cut through the moment.
"Well," Muir said, stepping forward with a crooked grin, "if we're doing heartfelt speeches, I'd like my turn before someone starts crying."
"You, you mean." I muttered.
He laughed.
"You sure about this?" I asked quietly, searching his face. "Going to the Water Kingdom—with an enemy nation facing your father?"
Muir shrugged. "Honestly? Fifty–fifty."
I blinked. "That's… not comforting."
He grinned wider. "I've always found it easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Keeps life interesting."
Despite everything, a weak laugh slipped out of me.
"Of course you do."
I stepped forward and hugged him carefully, mindful of the still healing wounds. "You really do know how to work your way into people liking you."
"Charm's a survival skill," he said lightly. Then, softer, "You got this. I don't doubt it for a second."
I pulled back. "I'll see you soon. Hopefully with good news."
"Maybe even a relic," he added with a wink.
Revik stepped forward, and I instinctively moved aside, giving them space.
I didn't mean to listen.
But the wind carried sound easily here.
"Take care of yourself," Revik said quietly.
Muir scoffed. "That's it?"
Revik grabbed him by the collar and yanked him closer, lowering his voice to a whisper.
I couldn't hear the words.
But whatever he said made Muir freeze—
—and then blush.
Actually blush.
Revik chuckled, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I'll see you when this is done."
"You better," Muir muttered. "And it better be with no new scars."
Revik grinned. "I can't make those kinds of promises."
They pulled apart, eyes lingering just a moment too long.
Then they both looked away.
The wind shifted again.
I closed my eyes.
And reached.
The bridge to the gods opened within me—not violently, not desperately—but with intention.
Threads of power unfurled, luminous and alive.
Ask, they whispered.
And you shall receive.
Moonlight bloomed first—violet and soft, the touch of a goddess like cool fingers along my spine.
Then fire—warm and steady, alive without burning.
Then water—deep and endless—Njord's presence rolling through me like a tide.
The powers intertwined.
Balanced.
Waiting.
I inhaled—
—and shifted.
Light erupted.
Bones stretched. Scales formed like frost on glass.
My white, iridescent dragon form unfurled into the sky, wings catching the wind with a thunderous snap.
Revik climbed onto my back, gripping the ridge of my scales as I launched forward.
Skyreach fell away beneath us.
The Air Nation receded into cloud and stone and memory.
Ahead lay the Earth Kingdom.
Armies.
Politics.
Possibility.
Raiden.
I didn't know exactly what awaited us.
But I knew this—
Nothing would stop me now.
I had a purpose.
And as long as breath filled my lungs—
I would see it through.