The storm spoke in growls.
Lightning curled like angry serpents above jagged cliffs as Kael and his companions approached the Vault of Storms. It wasn't a mountain—they'd seen those. This was something else. A broken sky-spire, torn from the heavens and speared into the land below like a divine punishment.
The wind didn't blow here. It howled.
Even Cinder faltered mid-flight.
"This place was sealed for a reason," the dragon muttered. "No flame ever burned here… only the fury of the skies."
Kael's rune glowed faintly beneath his tunic, reacting to the wild energy all around them. A strange pressure crushed his chest with every heartbeat—as if the storm was watching.
"And what's trapped inside?" Lira asked, squinting against the wind.
"Something that screams, even when it sleeps," Cinder answered.
The Storm's Warning
The entrance was shaped like a pair of open dragon jaws carved into obsidian stone. Symbols older than empires glowed faintly across the arch—sigils of sky, fury, judgment.
Finnel reached out to touch one—and immediately recoiled.
"It… screamed in my head. Just for a second."
Kael stepped closer. His rune pulsed. The wind fell silent.
Then the storm spoke—in a voice only he could hear:
"Flamebearer. Will you dare the storm?"
"I don't have a choice," he whispered back.
And they entered.
The Vault of Storms
Inside, the world shifted.
The walls weren't stone. They were cloud and crystal, frozen lightning and shuddering echoes. The chamber pulsed like a living lung. Floating platforms drifted through the air, connected by veins of charged energy.
It was beautiful.
And completely unnatural.
In the center of the chamber stood a dais—and atop it, something sealed in chains of pure thunder: a jagged shard of crystal, glowing with electric-blue light. The Heart of the Tempest.
But between them and it…
A throne.
And on it sat the Storm-Knight.
Once a rider. Now something far more—and far less—than human. His armor was part of him. His eyes were pale orbs of lightning. He rose without sound, sword crackling with power.
"I was the last chosen," he said. "I failed. So I remain."
"I don't want to replace you," Kael said, stepping forward. "I want to protect the world."
"Then bleed for it."
Trial of the Sky
The Storm-Knight charged, blade-first.
Kael barely blocked in time. The impact sent sparks flying and launched him back into a spinning platform. Cinder growled and leapt—but was struck mid-air by a bolt of raw thunder and slammed into a wall of force.
"This test is for the bearer," the knight said. "Only he may weather the storm."
Kael's blade flared with fire—but the storm crushed it. Lightning ate flame.
Strike after strike, he was beaten back.
Lira and Finnel shouted from the edge of the chamber, unable to help.
"Kael!" Lira screamed. "You have to fight smarter! You can't burn lightning—become the eye of the storm!"
The Turning
Kael stopped dodging.
He breathed. Slowed his heart.
And listened.
The Flame inside him roared, yes—but the Storm? It whispered. It waited. It didn't want to destroy. It wanted to test.
Kael raised his blade, let the storm strike—and didn't fight it.
He embraced it.
His rune shifted.
Flame and lightning twined together.
A new light burst from his sword—neither fire nor storm, but something in between. A balance.
The Storm-Knight paused. Lowered his weapon.
And knelt.
"You did not command it. You earned it."
The Heart of the Tempest floated to Kael, and the chains broke.
Lightningbound
Kael grasped the relic—and felt his entire body surge. Memories of ancient skies. Dragons with wings made of stormcloud. Riders who rode thunder instead of fire.
When the glow faded, his eyes crackled with faint blue sparks.
Lira stared. "You're glowing again."
"That's probably bad," Finnel muttered.
Cinder approached, eyes narrowed. "You've tasted more than flame now."
"So has Raven," Kael said. "We have to move. Before he gets to the Abyss."
A Storm Awakened
As they exited the Vault, a bolt of lightning split the sky open.
Far in the distance, Raven stood at the edge of a massive chasm. Vraxion coiled behind him.
And in the darkness below, something moved.
Something old.
"Soon," Raven whispered. "He'll burn. Or drown."