Page 162 of Elemental Becoming

Beside me, Thane glances over, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly even as he hurls another fireball into the chaos.

“Show-off.”

“Focus, fire boy.”

I send another gust of wind into the fray, ripping apart a fresh wave of Fellborn.

The ballroom is a battlefield now. Soldiers fight back, the clash of steel and power ringing through the air, deafening. But for every shadow that falls, another rises in its place.

Elemental magics swirls all around us, a storm without mercy.

Spears of frozen water pierce through shadowed forms, shards of stone erupt from the marble, impaling anything in their path. Whips of fire lash through the darkness, leaving trails of ember and ash, while invisible blades of air carve through Fellborn with terrifying efficiency.

Every warrior capable of channeling is fighting.

Across the chaos, I spot Kieran—a whirlwind of movement leading a group of wielders against enemies three times their size. He doesn’t falter, his footing unwavering, his strikes devastating. Fellborn after Fellborn disintegrates beneath his blade, his Elemental attacks slicing through the creatures as sharply as the wind he commands.

To my right, I catch sight of Sera. With her gown now cut above the knees, she moves like a river in flood, a blur of speed and flashing steel. Her twin blades catch the light before sinking into shadowed flesh. She weaves through the battlefield without hesitation. A force of nature.

But even with all of us fighting, the Fellborn keep coming.

My hands move instinctively, reaching for the Element that raised me.

Earth.

The ballroom trembles. Marble fractures beneath my feet as jagged spires of stone burst from the floor, ripping through polished tile. They splinter apart at my command, hundreds ofrazor-sharp fragments spiraling through the air.

They tear into the Fellborn like a hailstorm. Shadowed bodies rupture beneath the barrage, their screams echoing through the ruined ballroom as they dissolve into drifting black vapor.

Beside me, Thane fights at my side, all fire, resolve, and impossible grace. Gods, if he doesn’t make battle look like a dance. His attention stays locked on the battlefield that was once the ballroom floor.

Through all of it, the bond pounds in my chest like a bridge holding firm beneath the chaos around us.

“These things aren’t acting alone.” His sword cleaves through another Fellborn. “Find who’s leading them. Don’t engage. Signal me, and we go together.”

“Of course,” I reply, forcing my voice to remain calm despite the fear clawing at my chest.

Can I do this? Am I ready? Elemental gods, help me.

I force myself to tear my attention from Thane and scan the ballroom. My gaze races over the bedlam. The surviving guests. The guards. The Fellborn swarming from every shadow.

Who’s controlling them?

I search for someone directing the chaos. Someone untouched by the frenzy.

A flash of movement catches my eye.

Rowena.

The slitted skirts of Rowena’s gown have been tied high behind her legs, allowing her to move unhindered.

I take my dagger to my own skirts, stripping away the fabric until my lower legs are completely free.

Rowena wields twin blades wreathed in flame, their molten edges blurring through the chaos with lethal accuracy. She moves like a waltz of death. Swift. Fluid. Untouchable.

A shadow lunges at her from behind. She spins, embers trailing in her wake, and cuts it down in a single seamless strike.

Across the room, Garrick stands like an immovable wall. His massive shield is raised high, glowing with radiant Elemental light as he holds the line against a dozen shadows. They swarm him relentlessly, but he doesn’t waver, bashing them backward with sheer brutal force.