Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 195876 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 979(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 653(@300wpm)
“Look how many there are,” I say, gesturing as the survivors already work to drag blue-shielded people toward a thick patch of trees. “There can’t be many left. We don’t need to buy time or stand guard. We need to finish this. Someone has to claim the blade and end the Crucible. It should be you, Raith. You’re the only one who stands a chance at beating the legacies guarding it.”
“I’d rather give you the blade.”
I shake my head. “Becoming a legacy would just mean more scrutiny. I’m safer as an aspirant, and you know it. You’re the one who needs to do it. And if you really want to protect me, you’ll have more resources to do it as a legacy.”
"Damn it." Raith looks back toward the large group of students in stasis.
I frown, head tilted. Something feels... wrong.
Raith draws his sword and grips it tightly, head slowly swiveling to take in our surroundings. He feels it too.
The air grows still, electric with tension.
Two figures drift slowly down from the sky, landing with no sound in front of us. One male and one female, both lean, muscular, and practically radiating violence. There's an unnatural grace about both of them, and they wear stylized white leather armor with cloud-like patterns and masks that completely cover their faces.
"Windborne," Raith whispers.
38
The windborne advance, their movements synchronized and predatory. They say nothing. Give no warnings or dramatic speeches. Their intent is clear, and it's deadly.
The taller windborne raises a hand, and the air ripples with power. An elemental materializes beside her—not an eagle or falcon, but a creature of pure air, its form constantly shifting, eyes glowing with ancient intelligence. It doesn't look like any elemental I've ever seen.
The female summons a similar elemental.
Both pause for only a heartbeat and I think they're looking at Typhon—probably wondering how the hell any of us tethered something so massive. But Typhon only gives them a moment of hesitation.
And then they're attacking, movements so fast my eyes can't begin to track them. The air around me compresses, squeezing my lungs, lifting me off my feet. I can't breathe, can't move, can't reach my rapier.
My legs kick uselessly as I float a few inches above the ground, invisible hands squeezing in around me from all sides.
I hear the electric sound of stasis tokens triggering behind me even though the windborne hardly even seem to be paying the others attention.
They're wiping us out like we're nothing. No games. No speeches. Just pure violence and efficiency.
Raith charges the woman who is squeezing the air around my head, sword flashing, but the male windborne intercepts him, his elemental blocking Raith’s path. I feel Raith's desperate need to protect me, but the male windborne is impossibly fast, dodging his every strike and preventing him from interrupting the woman.
My vision darkens as the air compresses further.
Small, pin-like daggers of air form and try to slide into my body. I use the last scraps of essence I have to hold them back, just barely, but it’s a losing battle.
Typhon roars, a sound so deep and terrible I can feel it through my entire body. He launches himself upward, flips, and then begins a death spiral straight for the woman as he tucks his wings tight and gains speed like a projectile.
The woman's focus falters as she lifts her face toward him and has to float backward, invisible winds lifting and yanking her away as if she's being pulled by strings.
I collapse as the distraction breaks her spell, gasping for breath. Typhon's jaws snap at her, but her elemental moves to intercept, the two creatures clashing in a maelstrom of water and air magic.
I look behind me and see there’s nobody left. The windborne have already sent every last survivor into stasis.
It’s only Raith and me. And if we fall, nothing will stop the windborne from collecting our tokens and finishing us for good.
The windborne facing Raith moves like smoke, her strikes too fast to track. Raith’s skill keeps him alive, but just barely. Through our tether, I feel him drawing on every technique he knows, his mind calculating each move seconds ahead. Pyrin battles beside him, snapping at the windborne when Raith's guard falters or he's in danger.
There's a sudden rush of wind as Bastian appears on his steed made of pure air. It leaps for the man fighting Raith as Bastian jumps from its back and joins the fray, long spear stabbing fiercely.
I stare in disbelief as the blonde legacy throws himself into battle. If I had any doubts about his loyalty, they fade quickly. He's fighting side by side with Raith, trying desperately to save us when he must know his chances of making it out of here alive are slim.
Together, they're barely managing to buy time, but it's clear they're outmatched. Even Bastian and Raith together are outskilled. The windborne combines two short blades with rapid magical attacks that Raith barely burns up or deflects. Bastian has an easier time, using some kind of heavy wall of wind to disperse the worst of it.