When the last Reaver hit the stone with a metallic thud, the storm had passed. Only mist clung to the air.
Aeron leaned against the bridge railing, breathing hard. His hands wouldn't stop sparking. His veins glowed faintly blue.
Kaelis touched his forehead. "Aeron… this isn't normal lightning."
"I know," he whispered. "I can feel something inside me… stretching. Like it's trying to break out."
Rovan raised a brow. "Sounds like indigestion."
Tegan punched his arm. "Not the time."
Sylas crouched beside Aeron. "Describe the feeling exactly."
Aeron swallowed. "It's like I have lightning… but the lightning belongs to something else."
The group exchanged looks.
Kaelis frowned. "Are you saying—"
Aeron interrupted, lowering his voice.
"I think Cinder-Eyed did something to me."
The wind stilled. Even the mist seemed to stop moving.
Rovan muttered, "Great. As if having a demon-elf assassin isn't enough, now we've got lightning possession."
Kaelis stared at the sky. "We need help. Someone who knows about rare powers."
"There is someone," Sylas said softly. "But she's… difficult."
"Difficult how?" Tegan asked.
Sylas smirked. "Imagine a librarian. Now imagine that librarian with fire magic, an anger problem, and a wolf spirit living in her spine."
Rovan nodded approvingly. "Sounds like my kind of lady."
Kaelis rolled her eyes. "Focus. Where is she?"
"Mornfeld Ruins," Sylas replied. "And she hates visitors."
"So," Aeron said weakly, "a perfect place to go."
Before the group moved, Tegan noticed something on one of the fallen Reavers: a metal tag engraved with a symbol—a hammer split in half by lightning.
Her face paled. "Guys… this isn't just revenge. This is a declaration."
Kaelis' expression hardened. "The Iron Reavers want a war."
"And we," Sylas said with a sigh, "are apparently the spark."
Aeron groaned. "Fantastic. All I ever wanted was a peaceful life."
Rovan clapped him on the back. "Too late. You joined us."
The group set off toward Mornfeld… unaware that shadowy figures watched them from the cliffs.