Page 174 of Elemental Becoming

Thane’s roar cuts through the battle, raw and desperate. He lunges toward me, reaching—but then shadows move.

A wave of Fellborn rush him, their twisted forms a blur of darkness, their clawed hands stretching, reaching, hungry. Too fast. Too many. Thane curses, already pivoting as golden fire erupts around him in a blinding arc.

He doesn’t hesitate. He can’t get to me. Not yet. Not while the Fellborn stand between us. And if he doesn’t cut them down first, he’ll never reach me at all.

A distant part of me realizes I went too far. Knows that channeling all four Elements at once without a proper anchor is dangerous. Knows that I should have paced myself, controlled the storm rather than letting it control me.

But it’s too late. The Elements are already in motion. And the Commander sees it coming.

His burning silver eyes widen, his entire form shifting, unraveling, trying to escape. He raises a hand, dark magics coiling outward, and tendrils of shadow lash outward as it tries to stop the attack. Trying to twist the Elements the way he twisted Thane’s fire earlier. But this is not just fire. It’s not just wind. It’s all of it. And he did not expect this.

The frozen lightning collides with the Commander’s counterstrike, shredding through it like paper. A soundless shockwave erupts from the impact, the force of it distorting the air, shattering the darkness. The Commander’s own magics fracture, recoil, and turn against him. His shadows scream as they splinter apart. And then—so does he.

His form cracks. Splits. Shatters.

The mark of the Shadeheart sears white-hot across his chest before fracturing like shattered glass. His entire body tears apart in an eruption of Elemental force, the blast rippling outward like the dying scream of something profoundly unnatural. One final distorted whisper escapes him. A last wretched sound.

He’s gone. Disintegrated. Erased. Nothing remains but blackened mist, curling away into nothingness.

I turn, breath ragged, heart pounding. In the periphery of my vision, I see Garrick cleave through two more creatures in a single, brutal swipe. Valen stands deeper within the shattered ballroom, his brow furrowed in concentration, unleashing a barrage of energy bolts as he scans the ballroom, our battlefield, always one step ahead.

Then the Fellborn begin to dissolve.

One by one, their twisted forms shudder. Inky bodies unravel. Limbs disintegrate into curling wisps of darkness. Their commander is gone. And with him, his hold over them.

The pressure in the ballroom finally breaks, their presence fading like mist in the morning sun.

For a long, tense moment, the ballroom falls into silence. Thesurvivors stand frozen, their eyes wide with awe, with disbelief. The Commander has fallen.

The world tilts.

At some point, I must have forced myself back to my feet, because now I’m swaying, my body barely holding itself together. The ballroom feels like it’s spinning too fast, like the ground is moving beneath me. Energy still hums in my veins, but now it feels raw. Jagged. Unbalanced. I try to take a step, but my legs won’t hold me. The moment I realize I’m falling, hands catch me.

Thane. Always Thane.

His grip locks around me before I can fall.

“Shit, Amara—” his voice is sharp, worried, barely controlled. “You’re—”

“I’m fine,” I say.

I’m absolutely not fine.

I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the dizziness to pass. I feel hollow. Not just tired or drained. Hollow. I poured too much of myself into the storm, into the strike that shattered the Commander, and now I don’t know what remains of me. My body no longer feels entirely mine. My limbs are sluggish and distant, as though I’ve been wrung out and left to dry.

Before I can say another word, darkness crashes over me.

Somewhere far away, I hear Calryx’s furious roar.

Then—silence.

When I open my eyes, I’m standing among the clouds. But how could that be?

Oh, wait. No. I’m standing on a mountain peak so high it pierces through the clouds themselves.

I turn cautiously. Before me stretches the endless sky. Behind me stands a dense green forest, ancient and impossibly still.

I was just in the middle of a battle in a ballroom. Now I’m standing in the clouds?