Chapter 14: The Weave of War
The pull was no longer a yank but a tide, and they were willing vessels. As Kael, Talia, and Juno let the Astral Flow draw them back, the mundane world of homework and hallway gossip melted away, not with a jolt, but with a deep, resonant hum.
They didn't land in the sand-swept dunes or their quiet quarters. They materialized in the heart of chaos.
The glorious, shining plaza where Juno had danced with noodles was a war zone.
The air screamed. Not with wind, but with the shrieks of corrupted beasts and the battle cries of dream-soldiers. The once-pristine streets were scarred with black, ichorous burns. The floating gardens were now barricades, their beautiful flora trampled underfoot. The river of starlight nearby ran sluggish and dark, choked with debris.
A blast of corrupted energy shattered a crystal fountain mere feet from them, spraying them with shards and lukewarm, glowing water.
"WHOAH! Okay! Not the welcome committee I was hoping for!" Juno yelped, ducking behind a overturned vendor's cart selling—now tragically—scorched glowing fruit.
Kael's fists were already blazing, fire and water swirling around his arms in a protective cyclone. His eyes, wide with shock a second before, now narrowed, scanning for threats. The fear was there, a cold knot in his stomach, but it was buried under a layer of grim determination. This was what they were chosen for.
Talia was already moving, her blade materializing in a flash of silver light. "The western gate is buckling," she said, her voice cutting through the din with unnatural calm. She pointed with her chin toward a distant section of the towering wall where a concentrated swarm of Corrupted were hammering against a shimmering energy shield. It flickered dangerously with each impact. "If it falls, they flood the artisan district."
"How do you know that?" Kael asked, falling into step beside her, his head on a swivel.
"I was observing. You two were sampling culture," she said, a hint of dry reproach in her tone, though her eyes never left the battle ahead.
"Hey! Culture is important!" Juno protested, but her hands were already up, crystalline shards forming around her fingers. "It builds morale! And delicious snacks!"
A group of Corrupted, their forms like shambling, fractured statues, broke through a defensive line of dream-soldiers and lunged toward them.
"Morale later. Fighting now!" Kael barked.
They moved as one. It wasn't the practiced, elegant unity of the citadel's soldiers, but something rawer, more instinctual. Kael met the first creature head-on, a punch of superheated steam blowing it back into two others. Talia flowed around his flank, her blade a silver blur, dismantling another with surgical precision.
A Corrupted lunged from the shadows at Juno. She yelped, fumbling her attack. But instead of a wild spray of crystals, she remembered Calyx's words in the healing chamber. Your connection is frayed. Control it. She took a sharp breath, focused, and a single, spear-like shard shot from her palm, impaling the creature neatly through its core. It dissolved into black smoke.
She stared at her hand, stunned. "I… I did it. On purpose!"
"Don't get cocky!" Kael called out, ducking under a swipe of claws.
They fought their way toward the buckling gate, a tiny island of coordinated resistance in a sea of turmoil. They were no longer just three kids with weird powers; they were a unit. Kael the relentless striker, Talia the precise tactician, Juno the focused artillery. They covered each other's blind spots, moved in sync without needing to speak.
As they reached the base of the wall, the situation was dire. The shield was failing, its light guttering like a dying candle. A dream-soldier with a gash across his golden armor shouted orders, his voice hoarse with desperation.
"Reinforce the conduit! We need more pure Flow into the generator!"
Talia's eyes darted to a pulsating crystal mechanism at the center of the gate—the source of the shield. A crack was spiderwebbing across its surface. "Kael! Your Astral Flow! It's dual-natured—creation and destruction. You might be able to stabilize it!"
"How?!" he yelled back, slamming a fist into a Corrupted that got too close.
"Just push it in! Think about healing, not breaking!"
Trusting her completely, Kael turned from the fight and placed his hands on the fractured crystal. He closed his eyes, pushing past the instinct to unleash destructive force. He thought of Talia's wound in the dungeon. Of mending, not rending. A warm, soothing light, cool like water and warm like embers, flowed from his hands and into the conduit.
The crack began to seal. The flickering shield solidified, pushing back the horde at the gate with a sudden wave of energy.
The golden-armored soldier stared, open-mouthed. "By the Beyond… thank you."
Panting, Kael pulled his hands back. The immediate threat was halted, but the battle still raged around them.
Juno leaned against the now-stable wall, wiping sweat from her brow. "Okay. So. We're actually doing this. We're soldiers."
Talia stood guard, her blade still held ready, watching Kael with an unreadable expression. There was no smile, but her gaze held a new depth of respect. "We are what we need to be."
In the relative lull, a familiar voice spoke from right behind Juno.
"See? I told you you wouldn't unravel. Mostly."
Juno jumped a foot in the air. Calyx stood there, leaning casually against the wall as if he'd been there the whole time, a small medical kit in his hand.
"WOULD YOU STOP DOING THAT?" she shrieked, her heart hammering.
"Doing what?" he asked innocently. He nodded toward the healed conduit. "Nice work. Crude, but effective." His eyes flicked to Talia's stance, to Kael's still-glowing hands. "You three are… adapting."
"Where did you even come from?" Kael asked, bewildered.
"The same place you did. More or less." Calyx's smirk finally faded as he looked out at the ongoing battle. "The corruption's attack is coordinated. This isn't a mindless swarm. It's being directed."
The implication hung heavy in the air. They all knew who was directing it.
The brief sense of victory evaporated, replaced by a colder, sharper dread. They had held one gate. But the war, and the Lady behind it, was just beginning.