From a mile across the way, past the snow kicking up from our eastern bastion and beyond the winding bridges connecting the cave-filled canyon, I see Broggen holding his arm out for something. Dovesier’s far sight is crystal clear.

  “What’s he doing?” I whisper to myself, ignoring the beating wings of Tesstalia’s wyvern hovering behind us.

  “Cadets! Ready!” Foren holds up his ice sphere, signaling a race about to begin.

  “No way…” I squint, seeing one of the brutes pass Broggen a bow. “He can’t make that shot from here with these winds. No gods-damn way. Layla… shield up.”

  “Begin!” Foren shoots a single icicle into the air that bursts amid the clouds.

  Fshew!

  Broggen looses a shadowy arrow on a steep curve.

  What the hell is he doing?

  Already, the arrow is falling far too short.

  “Wait a second… he’s not aiming for us.” I watch the arrow intently, noting the unstable warring dark attached to it. “That’s Noctus—his bond. He’s shadow snapping in a sprint over to us. And his brutes are just standing on the bastion.”

  “Hale?” Lay looks to me.

  Fsst!

  In a blink, Broggen snaps straight to the bridge—half a mile out from our bastion.

  “Cocky prick. New plan!” I announce. “Everyone but Misty, take the valley. Ren, go all the way. Use your shadows to stampede the west bastion from all angles. Confuse and detain. Rogo, crush them all. Lay, Jurs, keep them all alive.”

  “What about you?” Lay asks.

  “I’m going for him.” I peer straight at Broggen’s sprinting form, then glance at the sky. “He’s trying to keep up with his wyvern to snap again.” I turn to Tess. “Tear their rider up!”

  Tess nods at me and soars overhead with her wyvern’s undeniable shriek.

  “Go. Go!” I shout, drawing my chained dagger, eyes only on Broggen. My mind is on fire. Could this be a trick? A trap? “I’m counting on you, Mist.”

  “I’m going to make them wish they never left their little bastion.” Misty sharpens her blades.

  “Good.”

  With a single flex, Boe spawns from my shoulders and clamps one claw over the back of my neck, beating his wing once to send me soaring to meet Broggen head to head on the bridge.

  The crowd leans in unison to better see our inevitable clash.

  Boe’s brothers writhe with jealousy from far away in my mind, wanting badly to intervene, but my mental blocks keep them at distance. Scorius is watching, and so are a thousand other elites with his level of power.

  Pmomf!

  I land hard, making the entire wooden bridge shake. Broggen and I both wrestle for balance forty feet apart as two wyverns tangle in the air above us.

  “You are already beaten, Haledyn,” Gen announces, sending his spirit under the bridge blocks. It scrambles toward me like a rabid beast. “Give up now to avoid undue fatalities. Do so, and I’ll promise you and your marked a spot in my war-tier ranks.”

  I feel Boeru’s dark fire accumulating in his esophagus, so I draw it for myself in my free fist. “You’ll learn to be humble today, Gen.”

  With a wave of my hand, I sear the bridge in half, suffering Noctus’ angry screech as he’s engulfed in warring-dark-encased flame. It all happens so fast—the bridge snapping, the weight dropping from under my feet, locking eyes with Gen just as our worlds go under.

  He dashes off the bridge to safety while I throw my chained dagger straight at the disconnecting links and let it swing me north.

  My vision sways like a pendulum as I’m whisked into the depths of the canyon. Just as Gen disappears from my line of sight, I glimpse his spirit clapping back into him with petering flames tearing at his armor before snuffing out completely. Momentum shifts as the dangling wooden links catch halfway toward the canyon wall, giving me my chance. I release high into a flip with Boeru forming halfway to launch me skyward with one momentous beat of his wing.

  I whip my chain once around my fist, aiming as I fly high over Broggen’s head. His angry spirit tears from his back with spear in hand.

  “Boe, intercept.”

  I whip my dagger straight for Gen’s neck, but he draws his sword consumed by warring dark and summons a shield to block it. The chain coils as I lose momentum, and then Gen drops the shield to reveal Noctus hurling two spears straight at us.

  Boeru forms in full as I descend toward the ground, and with one mighty swipe of his claw, the summoned spears fall tumbling into harmless essence, all while I snap my dagger back in hand as I land into a graceful somersault.

  Gen smirks, begging me to do the same. In theory we should both be sprinting to the other’s bastion, but who could resist such a unique chance at settling a rivalry? Time in Elshard changed both of us. Time to see who made it out for the better.

  Fire clashes against poisonous smog overhead. A part of me wants to steal a glance to make sure Tess is okay, but I have to trust in her.

  With a swipe of his sword, warring dark splits into a hammer and an axe that lingers midair for him to take. At first I think he’s taunting me, but once he leisurely sheaths the blade to grab the axe, I realize he’s stalling. He ducks, and I see it—Noctus the Storm Lance reeling all the way back, tethered to Gen by two warring dark strings. The spirit slingshots forward, manifesting a spear in his midair leap as I filter my own antagonistic dark into my blade. It’s the only way to combat a spirit.

  As the spirit descends, I dash back, then forward again on the offensive, clanging dagger against spearhead, staying in close proximity as I was taught against a long weapon. Boeru chuffs to get out, but I mentally hold him back. I’ll use him as my ace. I’ll be tactical.

  Clng! Clng!

  The spirit growls. Its chaotic face and body twitches to hold form. As he lets go of his two-handed grip on the spear and manifests another, I grab his arm to absorb the unstable essence and flush it straight into my blade. With a great swing, I slice Noctus out of existence.

  As the dust fades, Gen is revealed on the other side of the cut bridge, making a run for Misty. The future general thinks himself clever, but I suspected he would leap at the opportunity. He isn’t the only one who could hide his intentions.

  “Go, Boeru.”

  From the depths of the canyon, my dragon emerges with a fierce roar, swiping his wing and sending Gen flying backward into a tumble. He claws to catch himself, just barely latching onto the bridge stud as he whips and dangles over the ledge of the cliff.

  This is my chance.

  I sprint over the few links left of the cracked bridge and leap toward the riderborn struggling to pull himself up. Loosening the chain around my fist, I hurl the blade at Broggen’s back.

  Fsst!

  It lodges into his shoulder hard as I skid to a landing on the other side of the bridge, pumping antagonistic dark into the blade to paralyze him. In that instant, I see flashes of the grand ocean connecting us all. Figments of Gen killing his house brothers and sisters in the sub-tier, the endless torture he was subject to when he misstepped in front of House Father, it all rushes to tell a story. The man would do anything and everything to survive.

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  I yank my dagger back—hearing the tear of flesh—and run to kick him into the canyon. An instinct holds me back for a moment in time—a worry that I might kill him if he falls. The hesitation is a detriment. He catches my leg at the last second and flips up to throw me back.

  “As I said. You’ve already lost.” Gen takes pleasure in lifting his gaze.

  Tess’ wyvern spirals near the stands, landing with a bwoof right around the front perch, leaving the noxious-spewing wyvern heading toward the east bastion… where Gen’s spirit is already there fighting Misty.

  “Shit! Boe, save her!”

  I grit my teeth and hop into a kick for Gen’s head. He ducks it, but the motion twists my foot free. As I lock dagger against sword, my other dragons roar to be released. Boeru’s unruly brothers want me to pull their strength and fry this arrogant bastard.

  If I give in… my future at Elshard would be finished. I’d be chained and taken away… I’d never reach Kane.

  “Rah!” I spin into a triple strike, forcing Gen to utilize his adept sword skills to block and evade such a light weapon. With every advancing step, he’s forced into a more awkward stance, until after jumping a low swipe, I dropkick him back.

  Flooding warring dark into my blade, I switch to symbiotic, utilizing the pressure crisscrossing over my forearms to guide my blade into a chained swing. The blade twirls into a circular blur as I leap and release.

  Clang!

  Gen backhand swipes the dagger off course, granting me the momentum to swing it back into my grasp as I descend with an overhead stab. He dashes into a side-flip, where I touch down to chase after him. We’re testing one another, focusing on our bonds and our duel simultaneously.

  “You’re nothing without your guard, Winbridge,” Gen says, spinning into a quick slice-and-stab combo that I evade by inches. “And even less without your dragon. Hra!” A wide-arc slice misses my nose by a hair. Then with a blanket of warring dark propelling him forward, he shoulders me to the ground.

  The growls of three dragons echo in my head.

  “Let us out!” Kelfore demands.

  “I will fry him,” Dovesier growls.

  I block them out of my head when I spot Misty about to be overwhelmed by the wounded enemy wyvern’s noxious fumes. She’s going to fall. Call to Arms will be lost…

  “Have faith in your marked.” Boeru’s fully manifested form rushes from the canyon. He chomps down hard on the wyvern’s wing and spins it into a death roll, chucking it far into the air—blood whipping everywhere.

  I smile when Misty’s silhouette emerges from the smoke, still locked sword-on-spear with Gen’s spirit. She’s holding her own against a dark conjuring using only high magic. Not an easy task. The sight renews my adrenaline as I slap Gen’s descending blade off course and sweep his leg.

  Kicking up into another chained spin, I unleash a myriad of attacks. It’s the same as a sword clash, only I have the range. I have the advantage. Every one of his defenses allows me to accumulate more momentum. The warring dark runs strong in my veins. I can sense his movements. It’s obvious he wants to release his arsenal. What does he have hiding in there?

  I’m forced to whip my dagger back when he draws a jewel-encrusted dagger of his own and whips it into the air.

  Shit. A trap!

  With a clench of Gen’s fist, the dagger spewing warring dark releases into a hundred falling arrows.

  I backflip once, twice, a third time while unravelling my chain to the fullest extent.

  Fth! Fth! Fth!

  The magical arrows impale the rocky arena floor.

  Fst! One slices right through my leg, but I ignore the scorching pain and unleash my dagger underhand one last time.

  He goes to block, but my dark propels it on a curved path, snaking right into his abdomen with one ferocious bite. Without thinking, I hurl more warring dark to latch onto his, clamping the blade tightly into his abdomen as I tug, using all of my might to lunge toward him.

  As we’re about to collide, I drop my chain and draw Spellglass.

  Chng!

  He summons a floating shield from his sheathed sword, knocking me again the wrong way. In a fit of frustration, he snaps Noctus back to him and slingshots the spirit my way. Gen manifests a crossbow full of bolts in the interim, shooting at his own spirit, knowing the warring dark entities will just cancel out until they find flesh.

  Fighting Noctus while being shot at is like fighting with a blindfold. I can’t pinpoint any of the incoming bolts. But there’s a silver lining. If Noctus is here and the wyvern is defeated…

  “Hya!” Misty sends two wind-waves my way, knocking the bolts tumbling through the air.

  I stick Spellglass through Noctus’ spears, right through his chest, before manifesting Boe’s wing from my shoulder and whacking him into dark essence.

  “Back to the bastion, Misty, now!” I roar, beating Boeru’s wing once to carry me straight for Broggen. The riderborn switches from cross bolts to spear—Noctus’ spear. It thunders as it manifests in his grip, swirling with clouds.

  I’ve never seen him wield this in any of his duels. Was he saving it?

  A new ability?

  Crsh!

  As soon as my dagger clashes against the spear, I’m sent flying the other way, stopped only by Boeru’s powerful wing.

  Gen twirls the lance in his grasp, earning cheers from the elites watching down on us.

  “I never expected to use my power on you, Winbridge. I’m impressed. But unfortunately… the rivalry ends now.”

  I grit my teeth, thinking of all my studies on riderborns. Their antagonistic bonds, if mastered, can tame the spirit to fight on its behalf and even convert the full strength directly into a weapon. That’s what this is. Noctus is the lance.

  “What better way to earn iron, then to rid the sanctum of their murdering dragonborn?” As Gen reels back his spear sparking like an accumulating storm in its orbit, I’m tempted to evoke the true power of my bond—to show my brother what I’m worth, to show my treacherous family that I refused to die. I am worthy!

  Fth!

  The Storm Lance flies forward, twisting into several curving spears at once. The velocity soars past any natural soldier’s, causing Boe to wrap his mighty wing around me and suffer the brunt of the storm exploding over us. We spin violently and crash hard into a wall.

  My mind and vision swim. I realize him angling to throw was just a show. Noctus had his own acceleration, his own aim.

  Broggen Lor’fyre, the deceptive general.

  As I peel off the stone wall and plummet into the canyon, I spin once, summoning Boeru to grab me one last time. As his wing slows my fall, the shadow of the valley hugs me… the only time I’ll be veiled enough to dig deep into my dragons’ well. Gen knows Boeru’s fire is coming. He’s been egging me to use it this whole time. Dove’s lightning would kill a Miria comrade, and Risorgus’ ice wind would give away my secret. Therefore… I’ll use Kelfore’s power.

  Gripping my dagger hilt hard, I call upon Boeru’s brother to alter my weapon just like he does his tail. I create the Storm Lance itself—something even Broggen won’t be able to anticipate. He’ll think I caught it.

  As I rise from the depths of the canyon with Boeru’s half-manifested wing, I twirl the Storm Lance in hand, causing Gen’s triumphant expression to fade. And as I land gracefully on the ground opposite him, I command Boeru forward to leap completely out of my shoulders—manifesting in full to overwhelm.

  Through Boeru’s coiling grayish-blue body, I glimpse Gen sending Noctus head-on to meet the dragon. I strafe to the side for a better view, knowing I have one shot. The pulsing power of the Storm Lance is mimicked perfectly by Kelfore. His gift is legendary.

  I reel the spear back, aiming through the warring spirits. And as Broggen unsheathes his sword to slice through Boeru, I release it.

  Fsssh!

  It impales him in the shoulder, sending him twisting to the dirt before the lance explodes into a hail storm that rips him up. The dings against his armor, the ripping of his flesh, is a chaotic sight.

  I’ve done it.

  I collapse to my knees, taking a beat to address my wounds. He pierced me badly in the leg. It’s throbbing, begging me to stop moving, but seeing the crowd off their feet, all looking toward the west bastion, I’m forced to fight through the pain.

  What’s happening?

  My body grows frantic. I’m spent, but I can’t stop now. Gen’s wounds are real. He’s writhing, falling in and out of consciousness. One look at Misty, she’s ready and waiting for anything, daring the enemy to charge her. I have to trust…

  She nods in my direction, telling me to go.

  To end this.

  I muster all of my remaining strength to summon Boeru.

  “Your endurance is commendable, mortal. You’ve grown into a powerful warrior.”

  “Now let’s show them what the Torn Wing is made of,” I say, hopping onto his back.

  Boe’s dark magi saddle forms around me, granting me levers to grip as he beats his powerful wing. The canyon quickly snakes below, showing me Renesta’s shadows chasing after a brute and ultimately bullying him down.

  Ironic how fate works.

  Closer to the west bastion, a faint gleam of blissful gold shimmers from a cubby deep within the canyon. I only get a glimpse of it, but I know that’s where Jurso’s hiding. He snakes bliss up from his spot to heal Rogo leaping from a high rock with a knife literally in his side.

  The west bastion is incoming, and my marked have done more than I could’ve hoped against Gen’s brutes.

  There’s one marked atop it, trying her best to get the two brutes beside her off.

  Lay…

  She shield bashes one into a tumble, only for Grondus to dropkick her onto her back.

  Jabbing his axe hard to finish the job, she rolls so he hits nothing but stone. His anger is immense, grunts loud and jarring.

  Hold on, Lay!

  She kicks up to her feet too nimbly for her size and charges the axe head-on. Sparks and dark slivers burst into to the air, blowing their hair back from Grondus’ chaotic power. The other brute leaps back onto the bastion with his claymore in hand, blood leaking down his face.

  I lean forward, digging the magical saddle into Boe’s back to make him soar faster.

  The fire burns in Boe’s esophagus, giving me an idea so insane it has to work.

  Woosh!

  We glide down toward them, and I pull up at the last second.

  “Layla! Tree stance!” I yell—watching her split-second acknowledgement, then unleash warring dark beside Boeru into two fans of flame that would obliterate an entire castle.

  The heat is so immense the elites and cadets nearby shield their face.

  My eyes dry out not only from the release of great power, but the fear that I’m burning my guard alive.

  Trust in her, I tell myself.

  Trust in her!

  The fires stop as Boeru pulls up completely, my neck craning down to see what’s left.

  Please…

  Beyond the clearing smoke, Layla’s shimmering armor peaks through, with her holding a fried, limp body in her grasp.

  “Yes!” I pump my fist as she tosses Grondus off the west bastion and holds up her own. “Hell yes!”