Elara's POV
Six corrupted Guardians stood in chains before us. Their eyes glowed sickly green. Wrong. Everything about them was wrong.
"Zephyrion," I whispered. "Can you fight them?"
Through the bond, I felt his answer: pain. Deep, terrible pain. These weren't just Guardians. They were his brothers. His friends. People he'd fought beside eight hundred years ago.
"I can," he said quietly. "But it will destroy me to do it."
Severin laughed. "How touching. The mighty Storm's Wrath brought low by sentiment. This will be easier than I thought."
He raised his hand. The corrupted Guardians' chains fell away.
They attacked.
Not like warriors. Like animals. All six of them moving at once, lightning and wind and fury with no control, no thought, just rage and pain and the need to destroy.
Zephyrion shoved me behind him. "Kael! Get everyone out! Now!"
The rebellion scattered. People running for the exits while storm-callers tried to stop them. Chaos everywhere.
The first corrupted Guardian reached us—a woman with white hair and marks that pulsed sickly on her skin. She swung at Zephyrion with claws made of solidified lightning.
He caught her wrist. "Lyssa. It's me. It's Zephyrion."
She screamed. Not words. Just rage.
"She can't hear you!" Severin called. "The corruption ate everything they were. They're weapons now. Nothing more."
Two more Guardians hit Zephyrion from both sides. He went down under their combined weight.
"No!" I reached for the bond, for his power, trying to help—
"Don't!" Zephyrion's voice roared in my mind. "You'll hurt them!"
"They're trying to kill you!"
"They can't help it! Don't hurt them!"
But they were tearing him apart. I could feel it through the bond—every cut, every strike, every moment of pain.
I couldn't just stand here. I couldn't watch him die.
I grabbed the power flowing through the bond and threw it.
Silver-white lightning exploded from my hands. Not at the corrupted Guardians. At the chains Severin's guards were using to control them.
The chains shattered.
For a heartbeat, everyone froze. Then the corrupted Guardians stopped attacking Zephyrion. They turned, looking around like they were confused.
"What did you do?" Severin demanded.
"The chains were controlling them," I gasped. "Making them attack. I broke the control!"
The corrupted Guardians looked at each other. Then at Severin. Then they smiled—terrible, broken smiles.
And they attacked him instead.
"No! Stop! I command you!" Severin's power flared, trying to reassert control. But the chains were gone. He had nothing to hold them with.
"Retreat!" he screamed to his storm-callers. "Everyone retreat!"
They fled. The High Storm Caller himself, running from the mess he'd created.
The corrupted Guardians chased after them, howling.
Zephyrion grabbed my arm. "We need to go. Now. Before they come back."
"But we won—"
"We didn't win. We just delayed." He pulled me toward an exit. "Those corrupted Guardians will tear through Severin's forces, then they'll tear through the Hollows. Everyone in their path will die unless we stop them."
"How do we stop them?"
"I don't know yet." His grip tightened. "But first, we survive. Come on!"
We ran through tunnels that shook with distant explosions. Rebels streamed past us, some wounded, all terrified.
Kael found us at an intersection. "This way! I know a safe route out!"
We followed him through twisting passages until we emerged in an alley far from the fighting. The sounds of battle echoed in the distance.
"Everyone's scattering to backup locations," Kael panted. "We'll regroup tomorrow at dawn. Can you keep her safe until then?"
"Yes," Zephyrion said.
"Good." Kael looked at me. "What you did back there—breaking those chains—no untrained Caller should be able to do that."
"I didn't think. I just acted."
"Keep doing that. Your instincts are better than most people's training." He squeezed my shoulder once, then ran off to help others.
Zephyrion led me through back alleys until we reached an old warehouse. Empty. Abandoned. Safe enough for now.
I collapsed against a wall, shaking. "Did we just make everything worse?"
"Probably." He sat down across from me. Blood dripped from a cut on his arm. "But you saved my life. So thank you for that."
"You would've done the same for me."
"I don't have a choice. The bond forces me to protect you." His silver eyes met mine. "But you chose to help me. That's different."
We sat in silence. Outside, the city burned. Inside, we were just two people trying to survive.
"We need to stop those corrupted Guardians," I said finally. "Before they kill innocent people."
"We need to cure them," Zephyrion corrected. "Not stop them. Not kill them. Cure them."
"Is that even possible?"
"It has to be." His voice cracked. "They were my friends, Elara. Lyssa taught me how to fly. Theron saved my life twice. Mira used to make jokes that made everyone laugh. They're still in there somewhere, buried under the corruption. I won't kill them. I can't."
Through the bond, I felt his anguish. Eight hundred years of isolation. Then finally he finds his brothers and sisters again, only to discover they've been turned into weapons.
"Then we'll cure them," I said firmly. "Somehow. We'll figure it out."
"We have three weeks before the assault on the Sky Citadel. Three weeks to cure six corrupted Guardians and train you well enough to face Severin." He laughed bitterly. "Impossible."
"You said I broke chains that shouldn't have broken. You said I'm stronger than I should be." I stood up, legs shaky but steady. "So train me. Push me harder. Make me strong enough to do the impossible."
Zephyrion studied me for a long moment. Then he stood too.
"Fine. But no more gentle lessons. No more holding back." His power flared, making the air crackle. "If you want to be strong enough to save them, I'm going to break you down and rebuild you into something that can't be broken."
"Do it."
"Starting now." He moved to the center of the warehouse. "Attack me. Use everything you have."
"We should rest—"
"Rest is for people who have time. We don't." His eyes blazed. "Attack me, Elara. Or are you still the scared little girl who let Aldric humiliate her?"
Anger flared hot in my chest. "Don't."
"The powerless daughter nobody wanted. The pathetic fool who thought a duke could love her—"
"Stop it!"
"Make me." He smiled that sharp, dangerous smile. "Show me the power you used to break those chains. Show me you're worth saving."
I snapped.
Power exploded from me in a wave. Not controlled. Not aimed. Just pure fury shaped into lightning.
Zephyrion deflected it easily, but his smile widened. "Better. Again."
We fought for hours. He pushed me, provoked me, forced me to dig deeper than I knew I could go. Every time I fell, he made me get up. Every time I wanted to quit, he said something that made me too angry to stop.
And slowly, the power became easier. More natural. Like breathing.
"Good," Zephyrion said as I finally landed a hit that made him stumble. "You're learning. But learning isn't enough. You need to master it. Own it. Make it part of you."
"How?" I gasped, exhausted.
"By pushing past your limits every single day until those limits don't exist anymore." He walked closer. "By accepting that the scared girl you were died in that field. You're someone new now. Someone dangerous."
"I don't want to be dangerous."
"Too late. You already are." His hand touched my cheek, surprisingly gentle. "The question is whether you'll be dangerous enough to save the people you love. Or whether you'll let fear hold you back while they die."
Through the bond, I felt his certainty. His faith in me. He believed I could do this. Even when I didn't believe in myself.
"Okay," I whispered. "Teach me everything."
"Then rest. You'll need your strength." He guided me to a corner where old blankets were piled. "Sleep. I'll keep watch."
I lay down, too tired to argue. My whole body ached. My head pounded. But I'd done it. I'd fought a Guardian and survived.
As I drifted off, I heard voices outside. Urgent. Scared.
"—found them—"
"—all dead—"
"—the corrupted Guardians killed everyone in the east district—"
I jerked awake. "Zephyrion—"
"I heard." His face was grim. "Fifty people dead in less than an hour. The corruption is worse than I thought. It's not just making them violent—it's making them hunt."
"Hunt what?"
"Anyone with magic." He turned to face me, and what I saw in his eyes made my blood freeze. "They're tracking power signatures. And Elara, you just used more Guardian magic tonight than anyone has in three hundred years. Your signature is like a beacon."
My heart stopped. "They're hunting me?"
"Yes. And they won't stop until they find you." He moved to the window, looking out at the burning city. "We have maybe three hours before they track you here. We need to move."
"Where can we go that's safe?"
"Nowhere is safe anymore." He looked back at me, and through the bond I felt his fear. Not for himself. For me. "The corrupted Guardians will hunt you across the entire realm if they have to. The only way to stop them—"
"Is to cure them," I finished.
"Or let them kill you." His voice dropped. "That would break the bond. Stop the hunt. Save everyone else."
I stared at him. "You're not seriously suggesting—"
"No." The word came out fierce. "I'd burn the world before I let them touch you. But Elara, you need to understand what we're facing. Six corrupted Guardians who won't stop. A High Storm Caller who wants you dead. And three weeks to somehow fix everything."
"Then we'd better get started."
A massive explosion rocked the warehouse. Windows shattered. The door blew off its hinges.
And standing in the doorway, eyes glowing sickly green, was one of the corrupted Guardians.
Lyssa. The white-haired woman who'd attacked Zephyrion.
She looked right at me and smiled.
"Found you."