Their footsteps fade, and I continue my careful progress toward the central chambers where prisoners awaiting execution are traditionally held. The route takes me past the great hall, where angry voices rise in heated debate. I pause, listening.
“—cannot ignore the evidence!” Commander Gale’s voice rises above the others. “The genetic markers don’t lie. Three children born this season with malformed wings, five more who cannot call lightning!”
“Temporary anomalies!” Viktor’s voice, hard with authority he hasn’t earned. “The ground-dweller twists science to serve her people’s agenda. Would you trade thousands of years of pure bloodlines on the word of our enemy?”
“I would trade blind tradition for survival,” comes Elder Tempest’s surprising response. “If our children cannot fly, cannot summon the storm, what remains of Storm Eagle legacy?”
Dissent spreads. I feel a surge of hope—Elena’s scientific truth is having the impact I’d prayed for. Not everyone will believe, but doubt has been planted. Seeds that might grow into a revolution if given time.
But time is something we don’t have.
I continue toward the detention chambers, moving more quickly now. Dawn approaches, and Viktor will want to stagehis execution when the first light touches the eastern peaks—a traditional time for Storm Eagle justice.
Two guards stand outside the central chamber entrance. I could attempt stealth, but my time for caution has passed. I step into the open corridor, lightning already dancing between my fingertips.
The guards react instantly, reaching for weapons. “Stormwright! How did you?—”
I don’t let them finish. Twin bolts of lightning—precisely controlled to stun rather than kill—strike both men in the chest. They collapse without raising the alarm.
The detention chamber door stands before me. Unlike my simple cell, this door is designed to hold powerful prisoners—reinforced with enchanted metals and sealed with multiple locks. No simple electrical charge will break this barrier.
I place both hands against the cold metal and close my eyes, focusing not on brute force but on the complex pattern of magical energies woven into the door’s protection. Before Elena, I would have simply blasted it with raw lightning until something gave way. Now I can sense the intricate design, the specific vulnerabilities in the magical structure.
I send a precise pulse of energy through the locks, matching the frequency of the protection spells, creating a harmonic resonance that causes the magic to vibrate against itself. The door shudders, the protective spells fighting to maintain integrity as I carefully increase power.
The door explodes inward with a deafening crack that surely alerts every guard in the vicinity. But it doesn’t matter now—subtlety has served its purpose.
Inside, Elena spins toward the noise, her hands already glowing with defensive power. Our eyes meet, and the energy in her palms shifts from defensive silver to welcoming blue.The sight of her—bruised but unbowed, still defiant despite everything—fills me with pride and fury in equal measure.
“Your timing is excellent,” she says with remarkable calm, as though we’re meeting for dinner rather than a prison break. “I was just thinking the accommodations left something to be desired.”
Despite everything, I laugh. This brilliant, fearless woman has changed me irrevocably. “I considered diplomatic channels, but they seemed too slow.”
She steps toward me, and I pull her into my arms. The contact sends a surge of power through both of us—her silver-blue energy merging with my golden lightning to create something entirely new. The walls around us vibrate with the magical resonance.
“They’ve set my execution for dawn,” she murmurs against my chest.
“I know. Zara told me.” I pull back, examining her face. “Your words divided the council. The younger Eagles are questioning Viktor now.”
Hope flashes in her eyes. “There’s a chance then? For peaceful resolution?”
“Perhaps.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “But Viktor won’t surrender power easily. He’s invited the Dire Wolves to witness your execution—a political display to cement his alliance.”
Alarm crosses her features. “The alliance is worse than I feared. I found documents in Viktor’s chambers during my captivity. He’s planning systematic purges of what he calls ‘contaminated bloodlines’—any clan showing signs of genetic mixing.”
The implications hit me like a physical blow. “Genocide.”
“On a scale not seen since the barrier wars.” She grips my arms. “We have to stop him, Kael. Not just for us, but for all territories.”
Shouts echo from the corridors—guards discovering their unconscious comrades or responding to the destroyed door. We have minutes at most.
“We need to reach the eastern platforms,” I tell her. “Zara has gathered loyalists there.”
Elena nods decisively. “Lead the way.”
We move into the corridor, no longer attempting stealth. The time for hiding has passed. The first guards round the corner, weapons drawn. I raise my hand, summoning lightning, but Elena steps forward first.
“Wait,” she says, her voice commanding. “You don’t need to die for Viktor’s ambition.”
