Page 357 of Elemental Becoming

Thane lifts his hand. “Shields! Now!”

Nearby, the air channeler circles one hand and snaps his arm outward. A current of wind catches Thane’s command andcarries it across the field, delivering it to the farthest ranks as clearly as the nearest.

All at once, the squadrons move. Each unit—blades and magics, channelers and non-channelers—shifts into formation with precision born of training and trust.

Barriers of wind and stone erupt in front of us, summoned by Air Clan and Earth Clan channelers working in tandem. Fire coils along the blades of Fire Clan warriors. Lightning sparks at the fingertips of Air Clan channelers, arcing between lines in jagged threads of light. Earth Clan soldiers—those without the ability to channel—slam their weapons into the ground in unison, moving in step with the channelers beside them. A deep tremor rolls across the field, pulsing through my boots.

Thane moves along the front ranks, his gaze sweeping over every line.

“You are not a collection of Elemental powers,” he says. “You are a single force. A living weapon. Move as one. Strike as one. Survive as one.”

By the time the final words reach me on the wind, carried by the air channeler, Thane is already halfway down the line, inspecting the next formation.

He lowers his hand. We move.

Our rows break and shift, reform and rotate. Blades slash in controlled arcs. Channelers duck and rise, sending Elemental blasts through cleared channels. Fire and frost light the air, and tremors roll beneath our feet in a rhythm drilled into us through countless hours of training.

What looks like chaos from the outside is anything but that. Every breath, step, and strike is timed to the movement of the formation. I feel the thrill of it in my bones. The power. The unity. The purpose.

This isn’t a drill—it’s a war dance.

We rotate again, our unit folding into a defensive diamond.I crouch low with my shield of air raised, Lyra beside me. The channelers behind us prepare another wave, their fingers glowing with gathered power. Wind funnels spiral through the formation, summoned by air channelers along the flanks, designed to throw enemies off balance while leaving our footing untouched.

Thane lifts his arm again. “Unleash.”

A wall of fire surges forward across the center. Soldiers part in perfect sync, making way. Ice shards slice through the flames, carried on the wind. Boulders arc overhead before crashing down with earth-shaking force.

The battlefield becomes a controlled tempest of Elemental power, destruction guided by discipline rather than chaos.

I try to focus, but my eyes keep drifting to Thane.

He doesn’t remain at the edge. He moves through the formation, walking between fire and wind as though they instinctively make way for him. Magics dance along his shoulders, his blade glowing like a brand. Wherever he passes, backs straighten and attention locks into place.

The air grows thick with heat and the metallic tang of magics. My pulse keeps time with the cadence of boots and breath, with the rhythm of hundreds moving as one. Around me, the ground trembles with every elemental strike, each impact sending vibrations through my legs and reminding me of the force gathered on this field.

This isn’t just about combat. It’s about control. It’s about mastering the power rather than letting it master you.

Across the field, firestorms whirl within elemental barriers cast by the channelers stationed in each quadrant. Earth channelers raise new walls and platforms on command, creating instant cover and high ground. Lightning streaks across the sky in narrow threads, not wild or random but directed with purpose.

The power on display is staggering, and we’re not even using half of it.

I feel my own magics stirring in response, my connection to the Elements pulling at my attention, eager to be unleashed. But I hold it in place like we were taught.

I glance up just in time to see Thane cut through the center of the formation. Gods, he’s terrifying. And beautiful.

He moves like war was made for him, every step measured, his blade held low, flames rippling at his heels. Soldiers part for him like a tide around stone, their attention sharpening as he passes.

We shift again, squads collapsing inward before reforming into a compact wall. Shields raised. Blades angled forward. Channelers crouched behind us. The final strike formation.

Thane raises both arms now and the field falls silent.

I feel the pull of power across the entire line, like the moment before lightning touches earth. Every soldier and Elemental channeler draws their magics inward, holding it on a knife’s edge.

“Strike!”

The field erupts.

Magics surges from every direction, including mine. Fire roars forward in twin streams, colliding and scattering sparks across the sky. Ice follows, freezing the fragments midair into a glittering haze. Air funnels twist upward, catching embers and turning them into glowing whirlwinds. The earth quakes beneath us as shockwaves roll out from the central line, splitting the training dummies into splinters.