Aelindra's POV
Falling feels like dying in slow motion.
The wind screamed in my ears, so loud I couldn't hear my own thoughts. My stomach lurched into my throat as I plummeted through empty air, arms flailing uselessly like I could somehow grab onto the sky itself.
This was it. This was how I died.
Not with dignity. Not fighting back. Just falling like garbage thrown off the Citadel's edge.
The clouds swallowed me whole, cold and wet and suffocating. I couldn't see anything—just gray mist and the occasional flash of lightning. My lungs burned. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might explode.
Then I broke through the cloud layer.
The Lower Drifts spread below me like a nightmare made real—dark islands floating in the storm, connected by rickety bridges and fraying rope. Shacks and broken buildings clustered together like they were huddling for warmth. No beautiful storm-light here. No magical gardens or crystal towers. Just poverty and darkness and the desperate struggle to survive.
I was going to hit one of those islands at full speed. Going to splatter across the rocks like—
No.
The word came from somewhere deep inside me, from that strange presence that had awakened during the trial.
Not like this. NOT LIKE THIS.
Storm magic exploded through my body—not the gentle, controlled power I'd been taught, but something wild and furious and absolutely terrifying. Lightning crackled around my hands. Wind answered my silent scream, rushing up to slow my fall.
But I didn't know how to use this power. Didn't know how to control it.
The wind caught me wrong, spinning me sideways. The lightning burned through my veins like fire. I screamed, and the sound was lost in the storm.
Then I saw them.
Above me, at the edge of the Apex Citadel, two figures stood watching my fall.
Cassiel and Seraphine.
Even from this distance, even through the clouds and chaos, I could see they were holding hands.
They stood together at the edge, watching me die, probably relieved that their problem was solving itself.
Something inside me shattered.
Not my body—that was still falling, still seconds from death.
My soul.
The part of me that had been kind, trusting, gentle. The part that had loved them both so fiercely I'd have given my life to protect them.
That part died between one heartbeat and the next.
And what replaced it was made of rage and storm and the absolute certainty that I would survive this, no matter what it took.
"I'm not dying for you!" I screamed at them, at the sky, at the entire cursed realm. "DO YOU HEAR ME? I'M NOT DYING!"
The wild magic inside me responded like it had been waiting for permission.
Power flooded through my arms, my legs, my chest. The lightning around my hands grew brighter, hotter. The wind obeyed me suddenly, completely, like it had been mine all along and I'd just forgotten how to call it.
My fall slowed. Not much, but enough.
Enough that when I hit the merchant's net stretched between two Lower Drift islands, I didn't die instantly.
The impact knocked every bit of air from my lungs. The net sagged under my weight, rope fibers burning my skin as I bounced and rolled. Something in my left arm snapped with a sound like breaking wood. Pain exploded up my shoulder.
I screamed, but no sound came out.
The net swung wildly, and for a horrible moment I thought it would tear free and I'd fall again. But the ropes held.
Barely.
I lay there, tangled in the net, staring up at the gray clouds above. My arm was definitely broken. My ribs felt like someone had kicked them repeatedly. Blood ran from a cut on my forehead, dripping into my eyes.
But I was alive.
Against all odds, against everything they'd planned, I was alive.
"Oy! Someone's in the net!" A rough voice shouted from somewhere nearby.
Footsteps pounded across wooden planks. The net jerked and swayed as someone started pulling it toward one of the floating islands.
"Careful, you idiot! Could be one of them sky-rats trying to steal our goods!"
"Sky-rats don't fall from the Apex Citadel, do they?"
"How should I know? Just get whoever it is out before the net breaks!"
Strong hands grabbed me, hauling me out of the net and onto solid ground. I tried to fight, tried to push them away, but my broken arm wouldn't work and my head was spinning.
"Easy, easy! We're not gonna hurt you!"
A weathered face appeared above me—a man with gray hair and concerned eyes. A sky merchant, judging by his patched clothes and calloused hands.
"What happened to you?" he asked gently. "Did you fall from—" His eyes widened as he got a better look at me. "Storm's mercy, you're from the Apex! I can see the quality of your dress even through all the blood!"
"Not anymore," I managed to whisper. "Not from anywhere."
"She's hurt bad, Pa," a younger voice said—probably the man's son. "Look at her arm. And she's bleeding everywhere."
"Get the healing kit. And some water."
"But Pa, if she's from the Apex—"
"I don't care if she's from the moon itself! We don't let people die on our watch!"
The son ran off. The merchant—Pa—carefully lifted my head and shoulders, propping me against something solid.
"What's your name, girl?" he asked.
I opened my mouth to say Aelindra Stormwrought, but stopped.
That wasn't my name anymore. I had no name. No family. No identity.
"Lyn," I finally said. Just Lyn. The nickname only my friends had used, back when I had friends. "My name is Lyn."
"Well, Lyn, I'm Marcus. That was my son Tobin who just ran off. We're merchants—sky-trade, mostly. Our net wasn't meant for catching people, but I'm glad it was there today."
"Why?" The word came out bitter. "Maybe dying would've been easier."
Marcus studied me with sharp eyes. "You might think that now. But trust me, girl—surviving is always better than the alternative. Even when it doesn't feel like it."
Tobin returned with supplies. They cleaned my wounds—every touch agony—and wrapped my broken arm in splints. Someone gave me bitter tea that made the pain fade to a dull roar.
Through it all, I stared up at the clouds hiding the Apex Citadel.
They thought they'd destroyed me. Thought I'd die in the fall or waste away in the Lower Drifts, forgotten and powerless.
But I could still feel it—that wild magic stirring inside me. The thing that had awakened when I needed it most.
Whatever it was, it was mine now.
And I was going to learn to use it.
"Where will you go?" Marcus asked when they'd finished patching me up. "Do you have anyone down here? Any friends?"
I almost laughed. Friends. I'd had one friend—Mirielle, my lady's maid who'd been more like a sister than my actual sister. But Miri was probably still in the Apex, probably thought I was guilty like everyone else.
"No," I said. "No one."
Marcus and Tobin exchanged glances.
"You can stay with us tonight," Marcus offered. "It's not much, but it's warm and dry. Tomorrow, when you're stronger, we'll figure out—"
"No." I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the protests from my battered body. "I need to go. Now."
"You can barely stand!"
"I'll manage." I had to. Because every second I stayed in one place was a second the Storm Guard could find me. Thystra might have thrown me off the edge, but if she found out I survived, would she send people to finish the job?
I couldn't risk it.
I couldn't risk these kind strangers who'd saved my life.
"Thank you," I said, meaning it. "But I have to disappear. If anyone asks about me—"
"We never saw you," Marcus said firmly. "We found our net empty. Nothing more."
I nodded, grateful beyond words.
Using a wooden post for support, I dragged myself to my feet. Every muscle screamed. My broken arm throbbed. But I could walk.
That was enough.
"Lyn," Marcus called as I limped toward the bridge connecting his island to the next. "Whatever you did up there, whatever they said you did—I hope you find your way."
"I will," I promised. "And when I do, the people who put me down here are going to regret it."
I disappeared into the maze of the Lower Drifts as rain began to fall.
For three hours, I stumbled through narrow alleys and across swaying bridges, putting as much distance as possible between myself and any place the guards might search. My vision kept blurring. My legs felt like they might give out any second.
Finally, I collapsed in an abandoned building—four walls and most of a roof, better than nothing.
I lay on the cold floor, shivering, bleeding, alone.
This was my life now. Not a noble lady in silk dresses. Not a Storm Chosen with magic and status. Just a broken girl in the slums with nothing but rage to keep her warm.
But as I lay there in the darkness, feeling sorry for myself, that strange presence in my chest stirred again.
And this time, it spoke.
Not in words, exactly. More like a feeling, an instinct, a knowledge that suddenly existed where it hadn't before:
The seals are breaking.
I sat up slowly, confused. What seals?
The presence pulsed, and images flooded my mind—not memories, but something else. Something older.
I saw myself as a baby, crying in my mother's arms. Saw my father standing over us with a Storm Council healer. Saw them placing their hands on my infant chest, magical runes glowing.
Saw them sealing something inside me.
"What..." I whispered to the empty room. "What did they lock away?"
The presence didn't answer. But I could feel it now, like chains wrapped around something deep in my core. Chains that were cracking, breaking, falling apart.
Whatever they'd sealed inside me when I was too young to remember—whatever they'd been so afraid of that they'd hidden it even from me—was waking up.
And when it fully awakened, nothing in Stormhaven would ever be the same.