Chapter 7 — The Trial of Wings
The air split with a deafening CRACK!
The Sky Wyrm was falling, a living spear of scale and muscle, its wings folded tight as it tore down toward the shattered bridge. The world seemed to slow — the rush of the river below turning into a deep, endless roar.
"Kairo!" Lyren shouted, arm outstretched.
But he was already moving.
The Dragon's Tear burned against his chest like a living sun, heat searing through him until every breath came out as a mist of gold. As the Wyrm closed in, his feet left the planks — not willingly, but as though the Tear itself had lifted him.
In the next heartbeat, lightning flashed.
It wasn't from the sky.
It was him.
Golden arcs trailed in his wake as he soared upward just enough to twist past the Wyrm's snapping jaws. The beast wheeled midair, tail whipping into the bridge's remains and scattering splinters into the moonlit void.
They circled each other now over the rushing Bloodwater — predator and prey, though neither could tell which was which.
Voice in his mind: *Test your fire, Child of Dust.*
Kairo's eyes narrowed. "Fine. Let's see what happens."
The Wyrm struck again — this time with its claws. Kairo met it head-on, raising his hands in reflex. Energy bloomed outward, not from a weapon, but from sheer will. A crescent-shaped blast of molten light erupted between them, smashing into the Wyrm's chest and knocking it back.
The blow shook him too; his knees nearly buckled as he hit the bridge remains again. He could *feel* the Tear draining him, but also feeding power back in equal measure — like breathing with something else's lungs.
Lyren was yelling something at him from the far end of the bridge, but her words drowned in the wind. Ryn stood behind her, staff raised, watching not with fear… but anticipation. As though he *expected* Kairo to emerge from this either triumphant or forever changed.