The plains where Fort Gairn once stood were frozen and dead.
Frost covered blackened soil, and the smell of burned metal still clung to the air.
From the north, Dominion drums began again — deep and steady, one beat every few seconds. The sound wasn't just rhythm; it was command.
To the south, Bloomring soldiers waited in silence. No horns. No noise. Only breath — hundreds of men and women inhaling and exhaling together.
The faint golden glow of Bloomscript spread across their arms and armor like a heartbeat.
Draven walked their line slowly. His armor was scarred, his face marked by frost. Beneath the dented chestplate, the Lotus Mark glowed faint green, pulsing with each breath he took.
Brenn stood beside him, sword tip in the snow.
"They'll march in order again," he said.
Draven nodded. "Then we don't match their step. We move on breath, not beat."
Above, thunder rolled — distant, soft. Zor's storm watched from the clouds.
Fog thickened as the Dominion army advanced.
Rows of shields locked tight; boots struck the ground in perfect time. The air filled with a low hum from the chanters — a tone so precise it made the frost tremble.
Bloomring's front rank held steady.
Mira raised her bow. Feyra's faint golden light warmed the air, steadying hearts.
Brenn called quietly, "Wait for the breath—now!"
The two armies hit. Shields crashed. Blades screeched.
Bloomring's soldiers exhaled together and shoved — a wave of movement that pushed back the Dominion front line.
Rhino broke through the flank, Stonehide followed, and for a moment the order of Dominion cracked under living chaos.
Frost exploded beneath every step. Lightning flashed in the clouds above.
It wasn't a clean fight; it was raw and human.
Then, the Dominion chant deepened.
The air vibrated, turning sharp as glass.
Kaelith Veynar appeared through the mist, silver armor gleaming under cold light. Frost spread from his boots, freezing the ground solid.
Every Dominion soldier stepped back when he passed — the rhythm of their chant shifting to match his stride.
Draven stopped walking. Lightning crawled up his blade — faint, not wild. Controlled.
Kaelith spoke first, voice calm.
"You still think chaos can build a world?"
Draven's eyes didn't leave him.
"No. But people can, if you let them breathe."
The world held its breath. Then Kaelith's chain moved.
Kaelith's chain snapped through the air, each strike perfect, precise — every swing backed by a chanter's beat in the distance.
Draven met it with Chainbreaker, sparks bursting with every hit.
Kaelith moved like a machine, every strike exactly where it needed to be.
Draven moved like water — unpredictable, fast, alive.
Frost sliced across Draven's forearm; blood ran but he didn't stop.
He countered low, his shoulder slamming into Kaelith's chestplate. Lightning flared, throwing blue light across the snow.
Kaelith's mouth tightened.
"You still fight without rhythm."
Draven caught the chain, shoved it aside.
"I fight so others can breathe."
Lightning rolled overhead, Zor's thunder answering the words.
For a second, the world blurred.
Draven saw it — the past.
Himself years ago, kneeling in chains beneath Kaelith's Direwolf, Dominion soldiers laughing. Blood in his mouth. Cold stone.
Now the same chain came for his throat.
He caught it mid-swing and threw it aside.
No words. Just the sound of metal breaking the past.
"Double time!" Kaelith ordered.
Fifty chanters behind him raised their pitch. The frost thickened, glowing blue.
Kaelith's chain blurred — a wall of motion.
Draven's chest burned. The Lotus Mark glowed brighter, light bleeding through the cracks in his armor. He inhaled once, deeply.
When he swung, lightning flooded the ground.
Both men collided in a shockwave that sent soldiers on both sides stumbling.
Zor's thunder answered from the clouds, synced perfectly to Draven's breathing.
Kaelith's chain whipped around Draven's arm. Frost raced along the steel, freezing his gauntlet to the hilt.
Draven grimaced — then the Lotus flared bright green. Heat surged, melting frost into steam.
He roared and drove forward.
Chainbreaker cut across Kaelith's pauldron, slicing deep into Soulsteel.
The Dominion Warden staggered, frost blood dripping onto snow.
Kaelith: "You finally learned rhythm."
Draven: "No. I learned to listen."
Lightning shot from the ground. Bloomring's soldiers saw it — and their rhythm steadied. The hum of unity spread across the lines.
A roar shook the horizon.
The Cryo Serpent, half a mile away, lifted its head and screamed.
Frost storms burst from its mouth. The Dominion chanter rhythm broke in panic.
One handler froze solid mid-note. Another fell, bleeding from his ears.
Kaelith turned, eyes wide.
"Hold the rhythm! Keep it steady!"
But the field had already cracked — frost and thunder twisting together, out of control.
Final Exchange
Kaelith swung the chain again, slower now, bleeding but unyielding.
Draven caught it barehanded. The frost burned deep, but he didn't let go. The Lotus on his chest glowed brighter, lightning seeping through his fingers.
Kaelith: "Without order, there's nothing left."
Draven: "Without choice, there's nothing worth saving."
They struck at once. Chain and sword met dead center.
Frost and lightning exploded.
The blast wiped everything white.
The froststorm swallowed both armies.
Dominion soldiers froze mid-motion; Bloomring lines shielded their faces from the glare.
When it cleared, both men were down.
Kaelith knelt, blood leaking from his cracked armor. The chain sigil on his gauntlet flickered, fractured.
Draven was on one knee, sword buried in the frost, his breath visible in short clouds. The Lotus mark on his chest glowed faint but alive.
Thunder rumbled above — not anger, but witness.
Kaelith's voice broke the silence.
"Maybe… rhythm does break."
Draven looked up, his voice barely more than breath.
"It has to. That's how it breathes again."
Frost swept over the field.
Everything turned white.
Note:
Dialogue & Meaning
-"You still think chaos can build a world?" / "People can, if you let them breathe." : Kaelith believes only order keeps peace. Draven believes freedom allows life to grow.
-"You still fight without rhythm." / "I fight so others can breathe.": Kaelith sees undisciplined motion; Draven fights to protect choice.
-"You finally learned rhythm." / "I learned to listen.": Kaelith values control; Draven values understanding.
-"Without order, there's nothing left." / "Without choice, there's nothing worth saving.": Kaelith fears chaos; Draven fears a world without free will.
-"Maybe rhythm does break." / "It has to — that's how it breathes again.": Kaelith accepts imperfection; Draven believes breaking is part of growth.
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