The sun was sliding toward the horizon when a shrill, familiar cry cut across the wind.Eliakim froze mid-step.
"...You hear that?" he murmured.
Before Gideon could answer, a blur of iridescent feathers streaked toward them from the western sky, weaving between the spires of jagged black stone.
"Skyling!" Gideon's voice broke into a grin as the bird swooped low, talons skimming the dust before spiraling upward and settling on Eliakim's shoulder in a shower of rainbow light.
Eliakim reached up instinctively, brushing his fingers through the silky plumage."Missed you, girl," he said quietly.
Skyling leaned into his touch, chirping in rapid notes, her head turning to nudge Gideon in greeting. The big man chuckled, scratching the bird's neck."You've been off causing trouble, haven't you?"
Ezra, who had been walking a pace behind, suddenly stopped dead in the road. Her eyes widened—not with her usual unsettling stillness, but with something almost childlike.
"...She's beautiful," Ezra breathed. The voice that usually carried the weight of cryptic prophecy now held raw, unguarded awe.
She stepped closer, moving as though afraid Skyling might vanish if she made the wrong sound. Her gloved fingers hovered in the air before brushing along the bird's back."Such saturation… every feather alive with light. And the aura—"
Ezra inhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing in focus. "This is not natural. There's a bond here… deep, old, and… resonant. Eliakim—your heartbeat and hers… they align."
Eliakim met her gaze but didn't flinch. "She's been with me a long time."
Ezra's lips curved into the faintest smile. "I have a weakness for birds. But ones like her?" She tilted her head, almost conspiratorial. "I could watch her for hours."
Gideon smirked. "So the void-touched prophet has a bird fetish. Didn't see that coming."
Ezra didn't deny it. In fact, she crouched slightly, letting Skyling sniff her palm before the bird gave a sharp approving chirp."I'll take that as permission," Ezra murmured, stroking the iridescent wing.
Night came quickly on the plains. They made camp near the ruins of a toppled watchtower, its stone half-swallowed by the creeping red grass of Emberroot.
Gideon worked on a small cookfire while Eliakim scouted the perimeter. Ezra stood apart, her staff grounded in the soil, drawing deep, deliberate breaths.
Without warning, the air around her shimmered—then burst outward in a wave of heat that made the fire flicker violently. She lifted her staff, and motes of violet light spun into the air like fireflies caught in a storm.
It was raw mana—thick, heavy, almost alive—and it poured from her in uncontrolled surges.
Eliakim stepped closer, voice low. "Careful. You're bleeding energy into the ground."
Ezra's brow furrowed. "I'm aware. I have more than most can fathom, but… it resists fine shaping. Like trying to paint detail with a flood."
The ground under her feet cracked slightly, frost forming along the stone even as heat shimmered above it—a chaotic fusion of elements she hadn't intended.
Gideon let out a low whistle from the fire. "Looks pretty, but I wouldn't want to be standing next to you if you sneeze."
Ezra shot him a look that was neither offended nor amused—merely calculating. Then she let the magic disperse, her shoulders loosening.
Eliakim studied her in the firelight."You've got enough mana to level a block," he said slowly. "But no precision."
Her gaze met his, unreadable. "Precision can be learned. The mana is the harder thing to acquire."
The night settled into uneasy quiet after that, the crackle of the fire mixing with the soft rustle of Skyling's feathers as she tucked herself against Eliakim's shoulder.
Above them, the sky was a deep indigo, the Frostfang peaks in the far distance glowing faintly under the moon—waiting.