The days since his strange collapse had blurred together.
Jordan had spent them under the wary eyes of the villagers, every conversation laced with questions left unsaid. His fainting after the lightning had not been forgotten. Some whispered it was a blessing. Others, a curse.
Ariana had not left his side. She trained him with the bow, drilled him on Nytherra's geography, and kept the most curious villagers at bay. Yet even she could not silence the mutters that clung to Jordan like shadows.
This morning, however, the whispers felt louder than ever.
The village square was alive with tension. Messengers from Drakensfall had arrived, their crimson banners trailing behind steel-armored soldiers. They carried parchment sealed with black wax — the mark of the king.
Jordan stood in the crowd as the village chief, Ariana's father, broke the seal. His weathered hands trembled slightly as he read.
"By order of His Majesty…" the chief's voice was heavy. "All able-bodied men are to be conscripted. The war with Highveil has worsened. Every kingdom prepares its armies."
A gasp rippled through the crowd. Mothers clutched their sons. Farmers traded fearful glances.
Jordan's pulse quickened. War. So it was real, not just Ariana's lessons, not just stories from a world he barely understood.
Beside him, Ariana's fists tightened. "Highveil… they've pushed too far. My father said this day would come."
But Jordan noticed something more. As the chief rolled the parchment, he caught sight of another mark, hastily scrawled in the margins. A spiral of jagged lines. His stomach lurched. He had seen this symbol once before — in his dreams.
The soldiers marched off, leaving dread in their wake. The crowd dispersed slowly, the weight of the decree pressing down on every step.
"Jordan," Ariana whispered, tugging him aside. "You saw it too, didn't you? That mark. That's no king's hand."
Before Jordan could answer, the earth trembled. The forest's edge erupted with a guttural roar.
From the treeline burst a beast unlike any Jordan had seen: scales black as coal, eyes burning like molten fire. Its massive claws shredded bark and earth as it barreled toward the village.
The villagers screamed. Children fled. Soldiers scrambled to form a line.
Jordan froze — heart hammering, every muscle rigid. Yet deep inside, something stirred. The same storm that had ripped through him before, the same force that had left him fainting on the dirt.
"Jordan!" Ariana's voice cut through the panic. "Don't hold back this time!"
His vision blurred. Power surged, hot and wild, crackling at his fingertips. Lightning licked across his skin, answering his fear with fire.
He raised his hand — and the storm roared to life.