Draven's POV
The explosion throws me backward.
I hit the stable wall hard, my ears ringing. Through the smoke and flames, I see Ashborn warriors pouring through the breach in the compound wall. At least fifty of them. Maybe more.
And leading them is War Chief Mordain himself.
My adoptive father has come for blood.
"LYRAE!" I shout, scrambling to my feet. She was right beside me a second ago, but now I can't see her through the chaos.
"Here!" Her voice comes from my left. She's pinned under a fallen beam, struggling to free herself.
I'm moving before I think, shoving debris aside with strength born of pure panic. The beam is heavy—too heavy—but I lift it anyway. Lyrae crawls out just as another explosion rocks the compound.
"We need to get out of here," I say, pulling her to her feet.
"My family—"
"Is fighting. And if we stay, we'll just make it worse." I grab her hand. "Both armies want you, Lyrae. As long as you're here, they'll tear this place apart."
She knows I'm right. I can see it in her eyes. But it still breaks something in her to run while her family fights.
We sprint through the burning compound, ducking arrows and dodging soldiers from both sides. I know these grounds from our brief time here—I've been mapping escape routes since we arrived, because I'm not an idiot.
There's a weak spot in the south wall. A place where the stones are crumbling and guards are usually thin.
We're almost there when Zephyr steps out of the smoke, blocking our path.
"Going somewhere?" he asks with that vicious smile.
I push Lyrae behind me. "Get out of the way, Zephyr."
"Can't do that. Mordain's orders." He twirls his blade. "The girl comes with us. And you—well, Mordain says I can do whatever I want with you. Reward for my loyal service."
"You brought an army to slaughter Verdana. There's nothing loyal about that. It's just murder."
"It's war." Zephyr shrugs. "And war needs weapons. That girl? She's the best weapon we've ever found. Once our scientists figure out how her power works, we'll be unstoppable."
"She's not a weapon. She's a person."
"She's a Bridge. She's Aetheria's chosen. She's whatever we NEED her to be." His eyes gleam with madness. "And you're a fool if you think protecting her makes you a hero. You're just a traitor. Nothing more."
He lunges.
I meet his attack, our blades clashing with a shower of sparks. Zephyr is good—better than good. We trained together for years. I know all his moves.
But he knows mine too.
We fight through the burning compound, neither gaining ground. Behind us, I hear Lyrae shouting, but I can't make out the words over the sound of battle.
Zephyr's blade catches my shoulder. I feel blood run hot down my arm.
"You're getting slow, brother," he taunts. "Soft. That's what happens when you spend time with the enemy."
"She's not my enemy."
"Then what is she?" Zephyr presses his attack, driving me backward. "What is she to you, Draven? Why betray everything for one girl?"
I don't have an answer. Or maybe I do, but I'm not ready to say it out loud.
Zephyr's next strike nearly takes my head off. I duck, roll, come up with my blade aimed at his chest—
And freeze.
Because Lyrae is standing behind Zephyr with her hands pressed to his back, and they're glowing that impossible gold.
Zephyr freezes too, his eyes going wide.
"What—what are you doing to me?" he gasps.
"Showing you the truth," Lyrae says quietly. Her eyes are pure gold now, glowing like miniature suns. "Showing you what this war really is."
Zephyr screams.
Not from pain. From something else. His weapon falls from his hand. He drops to his knees, tears streaming down his face.
When Lyrae pulls her hands away, Zephyr collapses completely, sobbing.
"What did you do to him?" I ask, shocked.
"I showed him everyone he's killed. Made him feel their pain. Their fear. Their families' grief." Lyrae's voice shakes. "I showed him what his hatred has cost. What this war has cost all of us."
She sways on her feet, and I catch her before she falls. Using that power took everything she had left.
"We need to move," I say. "Before more come."
But we're already surrounded.
Ashborn warriors emerge from the smoke on one side. Verdana soldiers close in from the other. We're trapped in the middle with nowhere left to run.
And then Mordain steps through the Ashborn ranks.
He looks older than I remember. Tired. But his eyes are sharp as ever when they lock on mine.
"Draven," he says, his voice carrying across the burning compound. "Last chance. Bring me the girl and come home. Be my son again."
Everything I've ever wanted, offered in one sentence.
Family. Belonging. A place to call home.
All I have to do is betray the girl in my arms.
"Don't," Lyrae whispers against my chest. "Please don't."
I look down at her. At this impossible girl who healed my wounds, who defended me to her own family, who refuses to give up even when everything is falling apart.
This girl who makes me want to be better than the weapon Mordain raised me to be.
I look back at Mordain and speak words that will change everything.
"She's not 'the girl.' Her name is Lyrae. And I'm not bringing her anywhere. I'm taking her somewhere safe, away from all of you."
Mordain's face hardens. "Then you're no longer my son."
"I never really was, was I?" The truth burns coming out. "I was just another weapon you forged. Another tool for your war. But I'm done being used. By you. By anyone."
"So you choose her over your own people?"
"I choose her over hatred. Over revenge. Over this endless cycle of violence that took my sister and her brother and thousands of others." I stand straighter, despite my wounds. "And if that makes me a traitor, then I'm a traitor."
Silence falls across the battlefield.
Then Mordain raises his hand, and every Ashborn warrior readies their weapon.
"Kill them both," he orders coldly.
But before anyone can move, the ground beneath us starts to shake.
Not from explosions. From something deeper. Something primal.
The earth splits open, and from the cracks, light pours out. Green and gold and red, all swirling together like liquid fire.
Lyrae gasps. "What's happening?"
"I don't know," I admit, holding her tighter as the ground heaves beneath us.
The light spreads across the battlefield, and where it touches, fighting stops. Weapons fall from hands. Warriors from both sides stare in shock as the light surrounds them.
And then I hear it. A voice that isn't a voice. Words that aren't words.
Aetheria itself is speaking.
ENOUGH.
The single word resonates in everyone's mind. Everyone's heart. It doesn't sound angry. It sounds... sad. Disappointed.
The light coalesces into a form—vaguely humanoid but made entirely of that swirling energy. It's beautiful and terrible all at once.
"The Bridge has awakened," the light-being says, and its voice echoes across the battlefield. "And you seek to cage her. To use her. To turn Aetheria's gift into another weapon for your endless war."
Mordain drops to one knee. On the other side, the Verdana commander does the same. Everyone recognizes what this is.
Aetheria. The life force itself. The power that connects all living things.
And it's furious.
"She was sent to heal your broken lands," Aetheria continues. "To bridge the divide between your people. To show you that cooperation is stronger than conquest. But you've learned nothing. Changed nothing."
The light-being turns to face Lyrae and me.
"The male protects the female at cost to himself. The female shields the male despite knowing the danger. You two have done what generations could not—you chose compassion over hatred."
Aetheria's form shifts, becoming more solid. More real.
"So I offer you both a choice. Come with me to the Sacred Grove. Learn what you truly are, what you're meant to become. Or stay here and be destroyed by the very people you're trying to save."
"If we go with you," Lyrae asks, her voice small, "what happens to them? To our families?"
"They continue their war until one side destroys the other. Or until they learn the lesson you two already know—that the enemy is not each other, but the hatred itself."
Lyrae looks at her family—her mother fighting back soldiers, her father shouting orders, Riven defending villagers with a sword too big for his small hands.
Then she looks at me.
"If we leave," she whispers, "will we ever come back?"
"I don't know," I admit.
"But if we stay, we die."
"Probably."
She takes a deep breath. "Together?"
I don't hesitate. "Together."
We turn to face the light-being, and Lyrae speaks clearly: "We'll go with you. Teach us what we need to know. Help us become strong enough to stop this war."
"So be it."
Aetheria's form expands, engulfing us both in light so bright I have to close my eyes.
I feel Lyrae's hand in mine, holding tight. Feel the ground disappear beneath my feet. Feel like I'm floating, falling, flying all at once.
And then—
Nothing.
When I open my eyes, we're somewhere else entirely.
A grove of massive trees, their trunks glowing with the same swirling energy we just saw. The air hums with power. With life itself.
"Welcome home," Aetheria's voice says, now coming from everywhere and nowhere. "Welcome to where your true journey begins."
Lyrae and I stand in the center of the grove, alone except for each other. The sounds of battle are gone. The smell of smoke is gone. Everything from our old lives is... gone.
"Draven?" Lyrae's voice is small, scared. "What have we done?"
Before I can answer, the trees around us start to move. Their branches reach down, forming a circle around us like a cage.
"Your training begins now," Aetheria announces. "And it will not be gentle. You must learn to control your gifts. To understand what you are. To master the bond between you."
"Bond?" I ask. "What bond?"
"The one that stabilizes her power. The one that lets your strength anchor her chaos." Aetheria's voice takes on an edge. "Did you think it was coincidence? That you two found each other in that ravine? That you can touch without her power destroying everything?"
The realization hits me like ice water.
"We're connected," Lyrae breathes. "We're... meant to be together?"
"You are two halves of a whole. Two Bridges that can only cross the divide by working as one." The trees close in tighter. "And until you learn to work together perfectly, you will not leave this grove."
"Wait," I say, panic rising. "For how long?"
"As long as it takes. Days. Months. Years."
"But the war—our families—"
"Will be there when you return. If you return. Many Bridges never leave the Sacred Grove. Many cannot master the bond. Many—"
A scream cuts off Aetheria's words.
Both Lyrae and I spin around. Through gaps in the trees, we see a figure stumbling toward us. Someone injured. Bleeding.
The figure collapses at the grove's edge, and I recognize the armor.
Verdana.
Lyrae runs to them before I can stop her. She turns the person over and gasps.
"Riven!"
Her brother looks up at her with glazed eyes. He's been badly wounded—multiple cuts, burns covering his arms.
"Lyrae," he gasps. "Thank the stars I found you. You have to come back. You have to—"
He coughs, and blood sprays from his lips.
"What happened?" Lyrae demands, her hands already glowing with healing light. "Riven, what happened?"
"After you disappeared... Mordain went crazy. Started killing everyone. Mom tried to stop him and he—" Riven's voice breaks. "He killed her, Lyrae. He killed Mom."