Unleashing the Trapped Boy

Lake Treffen had turned a sickly green under the renewed light. Einntyr huddled with his brothers as Deynfif slumped against a rock. Hirua could barely stand as he carried Kyura. The wind bit, leaves ripped from the trees and swirled like a dust devil. The Imperial's grin, a flash of malice and a single, sharp canine tooth, was fixed on them like they were the main course and he was starving.

"Wahahaha!" The Imperial's laugh was worse than scraping a plate with a fork — set his teeth on edge. Goosebumps erupted all over his skin, like he was back in Gran's alchemy room and she'd mixed up something volatile. That manic grin never wavered. The air around the soldier's sword swirled, the whistling intensifying as the weapon blurred towards Hirua.

Hirua, with Kyura in his arms, still managed to deflect the Imperial's strike. Deynfif created a rock cube that hurtled towards the foe. The cube exploded into dust against the soldier's weapon.

His eye met Deynfif's for a brief moment, his brother was panting hard. Deynfif needed him. Hirua needed him. His fingers tightened around his lagrings.

The Imperial's weapon shrieked, the sound scraping down his spine like a rusty blade. His lagrings hummed in his palm as he lunged, towards the Imperial's exposed back. "Get away from Hirua! You screechy jackal!"

His left hand buzzed, fingers contorting into a claw-like shape. Earth energy surged, rolling into three razor-sharp blades. "Earth Style: Stone Spurs!"

The clash of his earth claws against the jackal's air blade sent a shriek through the air, harsh and angry. The wind from the air weapon whipped past his face, sharp and cold. The Imperial stumbled, off balance for just a heartbeat.

He didn't hesitate. Another claw strike, then another. Earth claws ripped towards the soldier, aiming for any gap in those fancy defenses.

The jackal laughed, the sound like grinding gears, and met his attack head-on. Silver flashed. A bell tolled – his ribs – and suddenly he was reeling backward. A blur, a hiss of air, something coming for his back – too fast, too close. Rock shrieked against wind, the blow deflected by a cube. The Imperial sprang back, a snarl twisting his face. I owe you one, Deynfif!

Hirua! A red streak, the Fire Bolo whipping upwards for the jackal's knees. The soldier was already moving, landing light as a feather on the other side of Hirua's attack. "Dungbreath!" Hirua roared, slamming his fist against the ground. Pfft! Dungbreath? That's even better!

A rumble shook the ground as Deynfif launched a boulder forward. But the Imperial met it with a flurry of strikes, each blow sending shards of rock flying. Dust filled the air, a haze of defeat.

"Scrawny vermin," the dungbreath sneered, landing low to the ground. "That all you got?"

He caught Deynfif's eye and gave a slight nod. "Not a chance, you dungbreath jackal!" he roared, leaping into the fray. A platform of earth surged beneath him, propelling him like a projectile towards the dungbreath. His right arm ignited, two fiery energy claws blazing into existence. He felt a grin split his face. "Fire Style: Flame Fangs!" he bellowed, aiming for the jackal's head. It was a perfect opening, just what Hirua needed to attack from below.

The Imperial spun like a horizontal twister, a blur of limbs tucking and twisting, dodging both fire attacks from below and above. The air sword's shriek intensified. No! His gut clenched. "Boulder Bulwark!" he yelled, activating the lagring on his left hand. The air sword hit his shield, a screech that rattled his teeth and blasted him backward. Ice flooded his veins. Hirua!

He scrambled back, each heartbeat a drum in his ears. There—Deynfif's shield, a wall between Hirua and that monster. But Hirua was down, sprawled on the ground like a discarded puppet.

His fists clenched. This wasn't a soldier, this was a storm given a blade.

The Imperial scoffed, "Emitting two energies? A parlor trick! I've faced far worse than a pup like you."

He saw Deynfif struggling to hold up a limping Hirua. Kyura was propped against a tree, face pale. He tasted dirt. The world swam for a moment. The pit in the forest. No. He shook his head, hard. Not now.

He gathered himself, a coiled spring ready to unleash. He charged forward with outstretched fingers. Red fire engulfed his right hand, earth glowed on his left. "Ember Edge!" he roared, "Craggy Cleaver!" He would not back down.

"How's this for a parlor trick, then?" He snarled, the words barely audible over his ragged breaths. Rock crunched, flame roared, wind howled. Every clang and shriek echoed right through him – he'd stuff 'defiance' down this Imperial jackal's throat if he could.

Left, right, thrust and cleave! That air blade was everywhere – a near miss here, a laugh there, this dungbreath was starting to get on his nerves. His heart was about to burst out of his chest – good thing he needed the exercise.

Then, a whistling shriek. The Imperial's blade sliced towards his exposed side. With a grunt, he twisted, Craggy Cleaver vanishing as his left hand snapped up. "Boulder Bulwark!" A shield of rock materialized, the air sword screeching as it bit into the stone. The impact slammed into him, his head swam. Gusts whipped around the air blade, cuts biting into his arm.

His teeth clenched, a groan stuck in his throat. The jackal's strength felt like a mountain pressing down. But he wouldn't budge, "Fiery Fury!" he roared, launching his right fist. Heat warmed his skin, the stench of burning filled his nostrils as flame burst towards the Imperial. Did that hit?

The Imperial stumbled back, a mocking laugh echoing through the clearing. "Was that a joke? Did not even singe a hair!"

His eyes darted over the soldier – not a scratch. The pit in the forest. The darkness. The eyes of predators. Drained lagrings heavy in his little hands. The memory flashed, unwelcome. Was Gran's gift failing him? No! He squeezed the lagrings. This dungbreath, this... monster, was something else. But he refused to back down, not while he still stood.

The Imperial's grin stretched wider, all teeth – probably sharpened too. "Underwhelming... Those pebbles, merely chew toys." The jackal cackled. "Pathetic vermin!"

His gaze darted to his brothers, huddled under a nearby tree. Deynfif slumped against the tree, Hirua draped over him. Even Kyura sagged, leaning against the rough bark for support. His bandaged fists clenched. He wouldn't let them get hurt. He wouldn't let this monster harm them. This time, he'd be the one to help them get out of the darkness.

The dungbreath's all stinky wind and bluster. "Time to fight like a mountain!" He muttered, planting his feet. He had to ground this Imperial jerk, teach him that some things were immovable. Heat flooded his right hand; his left pulsed with the earth energy. "Earth and Fire Style!" The clap of his hands echoed like thunder. Gray energy, raw and crackling, surged between them.

Muscle and fury propelled him forward, each step a mini-earthquake. "Chew toys, you say?" A guttural shout tore from his throat as he unleashed the full force of his power. "Then chew on this, jackal pup!"

"Metal Maelstrom!" Razor-sharp shards tore from his hands, a screeching storm of metal aimed right at the Imperial. Dust and debris exploded outwards, a thick wall between him and that lunatic. Air froze in his throat. How 'bout that?

Clang. A single shard of metal hit the ground.

His ears rang, each breath a searing pain in his chest. The dust began to settle, a blurry outline forming through the haze. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. That monster… The air blade swirled back to life, that insane grin back on the jackal's face.

"Well, that was..." The jackal drawled the words, a smirk playing on his lips. "Underwhelming." A flick of the Imperial's wrist sent a metal shard skittering away. "Disappointing."

The lagrings were cold and dead in his hands. Now black. Useless. He'd been useless once before, trapped… No. Not this time. He had to focus.

But then, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Kyura, her face strained but her hand gripping Hirua's. His brother had just found her. Hirua deserved a family. He wouldn't let this… this thing… take that away. He had to do something. Anything.

The lagrings were cold and dead in his fists, but he stood his ground. He planted his feet, a wall of flesh and bone against the Imperial's fury. His brothers were behind him, and that's where this monster would stay.

The dungbreath's hiss cut through the air, "Boring fight. You're going down now."

A primal roar tore from his throat, "Not a chance!"

The Imperial lunged, air blade shrieking. No time to dodge. He took the hit, bare skin against the whirling wind. Pain exploded across his ribs, a white-hot searing. He staggered, tasted blood, but stayed upright. The pain was bad, but worse was the cold dread that tightened in his chest - the same terror from that day trapped in the pit in the forest.

The pit swallowed the light, swallowed the hope. He tasted salt, tasted despair, the sting of tears on his lips. Lifeless lagrings mocked him from where they were clutched in his fist. "Einntyr! Einntyr!" His name, faint but coming closer, pulled him back from the edge of oblivion.

He roared, a sound that tore free from deep inside, shaking off the fear that clung like cobwebs. "I AM NOT THAT BOY ANYMORE!"

BAMM!

It wasn't a wave, but a freaking explosion inside him. Every cell sang, vibrated with a power that ripped a yell from his throat. The ground tried to buck him off his feet, trees blurring as the world itself seemed to shiver. Leaves shot into the air and the earth beneath him cracked open in jagged lines. What in blazes?

The jackal stumbled back, a frown twisting his face. "Heh! Another trick, pup?" His voice was sharp, the amusement gone. "Looks like playtime's over."

A searing pain ripped through him, a hot poker stabbing at his ribs, his arm, his leg... everywhere. He sucked in a breath, and a burning sensation coursed through his chest. Each gasp ripped through him, his body screaming in protest. His knees buckled, slamming into the hard ground. Black spots danced in his vision, but he forced himself up. Each step felt like wading through a bog. His bandaged fists, slick with sweat and blood, burned against the cold, drained lagrings.

The jackal's grin, a predator scenting victory. Body coiled, ready to pounce.

He braced for the attack, muscles tight, breath held. But he was not alone.

A hand clamped onto his shoulder, a solid weight against his aching bones. Hirua's eyes – that same look they shared before a good scrap, back in Eard. His brother's familiar lopsided grin appeared as he choked out, "Let's do this..."

Deynfif thumped to a stop beside him, staff planted like he was about to uproot the whole forest. A sound like rocks grinding, low and dangerous, rumbled from Deynfif's chest. "Together."

The Imperial blurred, wind shrieking. The bone-grinding blade loomed, coming straight for them.

He heaved his aching arms up, his only shield against the coming storm.

The impact slammed into him; a flash of light and a deafening -

BOOOOOOOOM!

His ears didn't just buzz, they were assaulted by a punishing pressure that threatened to cave them inwards. A low rumble followed, vibrating through him like an earthquake, making his stomach twist.

A blur of purple cut between them. Twin daggers, out of nowhere— light flashed off the elemenium. The figure met the jackal's attack. Each block and thrust was a rapid flurry, too fast to follow, but the force of them… that he felt even from his position. A crack, like a tree splitting, then another— the air itself felt like it was breaking apart.

It was that rider! Siebea!

The Imperial's blade was a shimmering blur, a whirlwind around her. Siebea's daggers were like sparks trying to catch hold of the storm. He could feel it now, standing close - that electric crackle around Siebea, like lightning trapped in those blades. And the Imperial's air, it wasn't just wind, it vibrated, screeched, like it could rip the world apart.

Lightning dagger met wind energy blade, a boom that cut through everything else. Locked, they were, a clash that held its breath.

And through it all, that jarring laugh. The jackal's cackle echoed through the forest, like something breaking, but filled with a twisted pleasure in the shatter.

Wahahaha!

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Somewhere in Craiddhol, a lone figure turned towards the distant surge of energy. An eye, marked by a scar that ran from forehead to cheek, glistened with moisture in the renewed light.