Calamity Awakens

Kelan lingered near the fire as I stepped past him, my eyes already on Auren. I didn't need to turn to know the Brand had flared — I could feel the faint ripple of connection snap into place behind me. By the time I reached Auren, Rysa was watching Kelan's retreating back, a mix of hope and uncertainty on her face.

"She's branded?" Auren asked, voice low but steady.

"She is," I confirmed. "Kelan's bond will guide her toward what she wants — alchemy, potions, whatever she's got the spark for. And it'll keep her alive longer than steel alone ever could."

His jaw worked for a moment. "We stay together?"

"You do," I said without hesitation. "This isn't a chain. It's a path. You're both welcome here — more than welcome. We need people who know how to hold the line and people who know how to build something worth defending. Now you've got both in the same fire circle."

I glanced toward where Rysa stood, speaking quietly with Kelan. "There's a bond between them now. Doesn't change the one between you. But it does mean she has another reason to survive, and another hand to pull her back if the fight turns bad."

Auren let out a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. "Then we'll make ourselves useful."

"Good," I said, clapping him once on the shoulder. "Welcome to the settlement, Auren."

The cave was down to 4 beating hearts: me, Kelan, Auren, and Rysa tinkering quietly with a pouch of vials near the fire.

I traced a line in the ash-map with a knuckle. "Tonight: Auren clips a few sentries, not a purge but if you get the opportunity do it— but just enough to make their QRF come stomping out angry. Kelan funnels them into a killbox he's been dying to build. Kelen youll have to keep pressure on them in there. I keep my eyes and shuffle pieces if it goes sideways."

Auren checked his bowstring. Rysa stepped in, eyes bright. "Take these." She pressed a small wrap into his palm. "Resin-wax for quiet draws, and two vials—smear on the arrowhead. Not poison; a fast-numbing compound. If you don't kill clean, they won't shout long."

Kelan grunted approval. "I'll set the ground here." He tapped a shallow swale a hundred paces off the gate. "Weak crust on top, spike bed beneath, stone ribs ready to rise once they're in. If they turn, I collapse the back wall. This will be mana and Dao intensive. I'll be better off if I go early and prepare some. It'll give me the chance to regenerate some resources."

"And I'll be within fifty meters of you both," I said. "If someone over-commits, I can recall you to or around the fight. Think of it like me moving you on a game board they don't know exists. \\

Auren's mouth twitched. "As long as you don't move me into the spike bed."

"No promises," I said. He didn't laugh, thats fair.

If they come out with more than we can handle then Kelan you wont engage at all. I'm betting on inexperienced commanders and twitchy people. Those kinds of people make mistakes."

Rysa! I said can you brew anything explosive?" Some kind of fire compound that will hurt a lot of people in a tight space?

Rysa looked up from the pouch she was tying shut, eyes bright with curiosity like I'd just asked her to bottle a lightning storm.
"Explosives?" she echoed, tilting her head. "Oh, I can make things that burn hotter than oil and pop like angry hornets, sure. But we're talking room full of screaming and smoke here, not bring the fort down in a glorious fireball—unless you've got a spare week and a death wish and probably not even then."

"That works," I said. "Tight space, maximum pain. Doesn't have to level anything—just make it loud, hot, and very unpleasant."

She tapped her chin, muttering ingredients like she was reciting a love poem. "Salts from that dry streambed, resin chunks, splash of that oil Kelan found… Mmm, give it a day to cure. Less, if you don't care about stability."

I squinted. "Stability like 'might leak' or stability like 'goes off if you sneeze near it'?"

She grinned. "Why not both?"

Auren chuckled while smiling at her. "She's not joking."

"Make it," I said. "The sneeze kind. I'll figure out how to deliver it without dying later."

Rysa's grin turned impish. "Deal. But if one of you fumbles it before you're out the door, I'm haunting you—loudly."

"Fair," I said. "Just have it ready before the sentries get a new reason to panic."

Kelan didn't waste time—he slung his pack over one shoulder and slipped out into the dark with the easy confidence of someone already picturing exactly where the bodies would fall. He'd have his killing zone ready long before the QRF ever knew they'd been baited.

That left me in the quiet of the cave, just me and the steady flicker of firelight on the walls. I settled in cross-legged, closing my eyes. Mana shaping first—steady pull, smooth push, guiding the flow along muscle and tendon. Every inhale, more control. Every exhale, more precision. I could feel the difference since the fight with those assassins—edges sharper, pathways cleaner.

Then mana empowerment—pouring raw force into my limbs until they hummed under my skin. Legs first, then core, then arms. Like winding a spring I knew I'd have to release tonight. It wasn't perfect yet, but it would be enough to make someone miss their killing blow.

A thought tugged at the back of my mind, and I reached along the tether of Oathsense. Hal's presence flared—alive, focused, moving with purpose. Flashes came through: dark shapes in the ash, quick movement, the distant press of other wolves. I didn't feel any new Brands but I didn't expect to yet. I knew it was gonna be at least a day before he was back.

I opened my eyes, rolled my shoulders, and stood. Time to move. The night wasn't getting any younger, and the men on that wall had no idea they'd be stepping into Kelan's little welcome mat before dawn.

I remembered my new skill and glanced over at Auren, who was busy restringing his bow in what was either preparation or just a nervous tic. An impish grin crept across my face.

Without a word, I reached for that thread of mana, shaped it, and in a blink Auren was standing right beside me, bow halfway lowered, eyes wide.

He froze for a second, then exhaled sharply through his nose. "You're… going to abuse that, aren't you?"

"Oh, absolutely," I said, grinning. "Could've done it in a fight, but I figured this was more fun."

Auren's gaze flicked toward the wall he'd been watching before. "You realize if you do that mid-shot, I'll miss on pure principle."

"That's why I'll only use it when you're not aiming," I said. "Or when I really need you to aim somewhere else."

He shook his head, muttering something under his breath that I'm sure was complimentary.

We left the cave before the last trace of sun had burned from the horizon, keeping low against the ridgelines as the ash winds picked up. Auren padded a little farther out, eyes constantly scanning the darkening expanse. I tried to use my stealth skill since I hadnt used it in awhile.

We were halfway to the ambush site when Auren froze mid-step. His bow came halfway up, then stopped. I followed his gaze to a jagged crack in the side of a basalt outcrop.

Something shifted inside. Then, with a scraping rasp, a head the size of my chest slid into the open. Its scales were the color of scorched rock, blending almost perfectly with the stone—until its eyes caught the fading light, gold and sharp as glass shards.

The lizard flicked its tongue, tasting the air. It wasn't just big—it was wrong, too many teeth layered in its jaw, a faint heat shimmer rising from its nostrils.

"Stay still," Auren murmured, barely moving his lips.

The creature's head swayed once… twice… then withdrew into the cave with a sound like grinding stone. A moment later, we heard claws scraping deeper inside, fading until there was nothing but wind.

I exhaled. "If that thing's out hunting tonight, it could ruin everything."

"Let's make sure we're gone before it changes its mind," Auren said.

We didn't talk again until the low silhouette of the fortress's outer wall came into view, just a darker line against the ash-streaked sky. Auren and I crawled up to our position, the distant glow of the sentries' torches just beginning to flicker in sight. I let Auren go about his business. If he had any compunction about killing his former comrades he didn't show it.

Auren settled into position without a word, his bow resting across his knees while he adjusted for the wind. I stayed back just far enough to watch his angles without crowding him.

The sentries were little more than silhouettes in the torchlight—leaning against spears, pacing in arcs. Observing the surroundings but obviously bored and secure with their walls and numbers.

Auren drew, slow and deliberate. The faint creak of his bowstring was swallowed by the wind, and when he loosed, the arrow vanished into the dark.

One of the silhouettes jerked, crumpling without so much as a cry. The others didn't notice—until the second arrow hit. Then the shouts started.

I let a small smile creep in. "They'll send someone."

"That's the point," he murmured, already nocking the next shaft.

We kept it up—one body at a time—just enough to look like harassment, not a full assault. The wall guards began to move with more urgency, hiding behind crenellations and shouting toward the inner yard.

Movement caught my eye—shadows spilling from the gate, keeping low and moving fast toward our side of the wall. I tapped Auren on the shoulder, "time to go"

I glanced toward the dark gully where Kelan had vanished earlier.

Auren turned and shot an arrow at the shadows that were chasing us.

He was faster than the rest, pounding forward with a predator's focus, the torchlight flashing over plates of unfamiliar metal. Not the dull steel or scavenged leathers I'd come to expect—this armor was dark, almost iridescent, worked in overlapping segments that flexed with his movement.

Either a Tier Two brushing against the edge of Tier Three… or an actual Tier Three. And from the way the others shifted to keep pace behind him, they knew it too.

"Not the kind of guest I was hoping for tonight," I muttered, picking up speed.

If he made it through Kelan's kill zone, we'd have more than just a fight on our hands.

Auren and I slipped into the gully, shadows swallowing us whole. We dropped low, skimming along the dry channel until Kelan's faint glow-mark came into view—a single streak of pale light etched into the rock. His signal.

We slipped past it without a sound.

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Behind us, the shouts drew closer, the pounding feet crunching ash and grit. They spilled into the gully like hounds into a chute, bottlenecked by the narrow walls.

The armored man didn't hesitate—he drove straight into the choke point, trusting his speed and strength to carry him through.

Kelan's voice rang out once. A single, sharp word of power.

The ground erupted.

Stone teeth speared upward, jagged slabs twisting like the jaws of some ancient beast. Two of the front-runners vanished beneath collapsing shale, their screams cut short by the grinding of stone on stone. A molten glow bled from the fissures—Kelan's shaping work had tapped something hot beneath the crust, and the air filled with the reek of scorched metal and burnt cloth.

The armored leader leapt back, but too late—the second wave of the trap surged up in a spiral, a cage of rock slamming shut around him and forcing the others to skid to a halt. Those who didn't stop in time were caught—some buried waist-deep in cooling stone, others pinned under slabs heavy enough to snap bone.

Kelan stepped into view on the ridge above, hands wreathed in the faint shimmer of mana shaping. The man didn't just look stronger—Tier Two had made him sharper, faster, the precision in his work terrifying in its efficiency. This wasn't just brute force shaping anymore. This was art made of the earth itself.

The survivors hesitated, caught between trying to free their trapped comrades and the dawning realization that they were prey in a place built to kill them.

I almost felt bad for them.

"Go" I said and Auren and Kelan went to work.

Kelan vaulted from the ridge with his pick raised, landing in the middle of the trapped soldiers. The first swing caved in a helm, the second ripped free and tore through a man's collarbone. He moved forward like a machine, boots grinding over stone as he worked methodically down the line—shaping the earth to hold them still, then crushing bone and armor without hesitation.

From above, Auren's bow thrummed in a steady rhythm, each arrow slipping between plates or sinking into exposed necks. The screams bounced off the gully walls, mingling with the thud of steel and the crack of stone.

Kelan raised his pick for another blow when the rock prison ahead of him exploded outward. The armored man stepped through the spray of shards like they were nothing, axes already swinging. He was on Kelan in two strides, the first strike ringing off hastily-shaped stone, the second cutting deep enough to chip through the inner layer and into Kelan.

Through Oathsense, Kelan's voice was tense,almost panicked. "Tier three, I think. I can't hold him long."

Swinging. He was on Kelan in two strides, the first strike ringing off hastily-shaped stone, the second cutting deep enough to chip through the inner layer and into Kelan.

Through Oathsense, Kelan's voice was tense, almost panicked. "Tier three, I think. I can't hold him long."

"You won't have to."

I flared my will, unleashing Brandflare in a burst of blinding light and force that washed over the gully. The armored man staggered mid-swing, head jerking as the light burned through the slits in his visor, the roar of the flare stealing the sound from the world. For a heartbeat, he was cut off from both sight and hearing.

I triggered Tactical Recall, pulling Kelan out of the man's reach and snapping him into existence behind him. The moment Kelan's boots hit dirt, his pick was already arcing down. It slammed into the gap at the back of the helmet with a wet, metallic crunch, staggering the man forward.

But he didn't drop.

The armored brute roared, axes swinging in a vicious backward sweep that forced Kelan to roll clear. Even wounded, his movements were sharp, heavy, and unyielding. The blow Kelan had landed would have pulped a normal man's skull—this one just bled through the visor and kept coming.

This could only be one man. The leader of the Marauders here. His Dao was the Dao of Heaviness. His strikes were heavy and his armor heavier. He could lighten the load with his dao allowing someone that weighted down to move as fast as someone with a Dao of Speed.

He was man responsible for bringing Calamity down onto themselves. Kelan was hurt. I needed to change the dynamic.

The armored brute roared, axes sweeping in a vicious backward arc that forced Kelan to roll clear. Even wounded, his movements were sharp, heavy, and unyielding. The blow Kelan had landed would have pulped a normal man's skull—this one just bled through the visor and kept coming.

This could only be one man. The Marauders' leader. His Dao was the Dao of Heaviness—every strike a mountain's weight, every step a thunderclap. Yet he could shed that burden in an instant, moving with the speed of a lighter man while still hitting like a falling boulder.

He was the one who'd dragged this Calamity down onto his own people.
And right now, he was going to kill Kelan.

Through Oathsense, Kelan's pain was sharp and ragged. His shaping faltered on the left side—shoulder damage—and the next axe swing nearly broke through. I had seconds.

"Hold him!" I sent, already building the flare.

Brandflare ignited with a savage burst, the gully blooming with blinding light and concussive force. The Marauder leader staggered, his balance breaking for just a heartbeat.

That was all I needed.

I grabbed Kelan through the bond and hurled in an eyeblink—snapping him into position behind the armored man again. Kelan didn't hesitate. The pick came down with every shred of mana and shaping he had left, crunching deep into the gap at the backplate.

The impact drove the Marauder to his knees. He roared, twisting to rise again, even with metal buckling and blood flooding the stone. A normal man would've been dead twice over.

Kelan's blood was still dripping into the dirt when I pulled him out. The teleport left a crackling emptiness in my chest, but I slammed Brandsurge into him anyway—once, twice, three times—until his breathing steadied.

That left me with barely enough mana to stand. And I was about to gamble what I had left.

Hal, I called through the bond.
A flicker of recognition… and distance. Too much distance. This was going to hurt.

The draw nearly buckled my knees. Mana poured out of me in a torrent, the strain dragging heat from my skull and turning my vision white. For a heartbeat, I thought I'd pushed too far—pushed until nothing came—

—then light tore open the gully.

Hal landed first, frost steaming from his coat, hackles up and eyes locked on the armored Marauder. Behind him came the rest—seven wolves in total. The big one, a Tier Two ash-gray brute Hal had branded himself. The others smaller, leaner, Tier Ones pulled in by the bonds from Hal's ashen wolves.

It wasn't a legion. But it didn't need to be.

Hal's growl deepened into a howl, and the pack moved. The Tier Two slammed into the Marauder's side like a battering ram, forcing his axes wide. Tier Ones darted and snapped at his flanks, dragging his balance an inch at a time.

He tried to turn his weight into a killing swing—Hal was already there, jaws locking around the gap in his greave. The Marauder staggered.

Auren's arrows found the gaps the wolves opened. Kelan was already moving back in. And me? I stayed exactly where I was, because my mana was ash and my gamble was already in motion.

The armored man fought like a beast, but the pack fought like hunger. They worried him down piece by piece until the Tier Two hit high, Hal hit low, and the rest piled on.

The armored man hit the dirt hard, wolves snapping and tearing as they dragged him under. Blood steamed in the cold air.

His visor turned toward me, voice ragged through the grind of teeth and metal. "This—" he spat, coughing red—"is why the world needs Calamities gone. You take, you ruin, and you call it yours."

I stepped closer, eyes locked on his as the pack pulled him down. My breath came out slow and sharp.
"You stepped onto my ground," I said, just loud enough for him to hear over the snarls. "And here, I decide who crawls back out."

The wolves finished him before he could answer.

My legs felt like they'd been swapped out for wet rope by the time I climbed down into the gully. My mana pool was nothing but fumes, lungs dragging in the cold air like it weighed a ton.

Hal was there before I hit the bottom, shoving his muzzle into my chest with a low, rumbling whine. His fur was matted with streaks of blood—none of it his.

"You did good," I muttered, resting a hand on his head. My fingers sank into the thick fur behind his ears, feeling the steady thump of his pulse and the frost pulse off him. "very good."

Another ashen wolf padded closer, eyes bright with the same hunger for approval. Hal's head snapped toward it, teeth bared in a warning snarl that left no room for misinterpretation. The other wolf backed off quick, tail low.

"Yeah," I said chuckling, still looking at Hal. "Just you and me. They can wait their turn."

He huffed once, content, before trotting to stand between me and the rest of the survivors.

Kelan moved to finish one of the downed Marauders, but the man dropped his weapon and lifted his hands. The others, battered and bloodied, followed suit—too beaten to run, too scared to fight.

I glanced at Kelan, then at the raised hands. The air in the gully was still thick with the scent of blood, the silence broken only by the low growl of the wolves.

Kelan had his pick raised, ready to bring it down.

"Stop," I said. My voice cut through the gully like frostbite, sharp and slow.

The man on the ground froze, hands still raised, eyes flicking between me and the wolves circling just outside his reach. Around him, more weapons clattered to the dirt—steel giving up before flesh. These were all tier 2's and they all got manhandled by Kelan. I still didnt understand how he could be so much more powerful. All because of a bigger connection to his Dao?

I walked forward, Hal pacing at my side. The survivors shrank back with every step, and for a moment, I just looked at them.

"You know what I should do," I said quietly. "No witnesses. No second chances. Just like how you didn't give the people here a second chance. This ends here, there's so much evil in the universe and I don't have the time to waste on you."

One of them started to speak—some plea, some bargain—but I raised a hand, and Hal's growl silenced him.

I let the thought hang there, heavy. The wolves could finish this in seconds. Kelan could too. It would be cleaner.

But… there was something else.

"You want to live?" I asked. "Then maybe you get to. But not for free." My gaze swept over them, calculating. "I need to know if I can drag someone to my settlement. I have an idea to try but I need people willing to give it a try. So you decide now. Come with me when the time comes. And it will come soon." My last words hanging sharper than any blade. "Or you die now."

The gully went still. The only sound was the faint hiss of cooling stone and the low growl of wolves, their yellow eyes glinting in the dark. The trapped men shifted in place, but the rock held fast around their legs—heat-warped and solid.

Nobody spoke. Not yet.

I let the silence stretch, heavy enough to feel in the chest. They could see the choice on my face, could hear the quiet promise in the wolves' breath.

Finally, one man shifted forward as much as the stone would let him. He was broad, with a thick beard matted to his jaw and a voice like gravel dragged over iron.

"I'll give it a try," he said. "Didn't agree with what happened here. We started out as honorable men." His gaze met mine—steady, unflinching. "I'd like to find my way back to that. If your… settlement can give me that chance, I'll take it."

The wolves' growls eased just a fraction. My eyes narrowed. Not trust—never that—but I could respect the courage it took to speak first.

"Kelan—work on freeing them," I said, voice still low but leaving no room for debate. "Auren, loot the dead. We rest, get Rysa to patch us up, resupply… then we finish the rest tomorrow."

Kelan gave a short nod, already moving toward the melted stone and laying his hands on it, shaping it back to brittle gravel piece by piece. Auren just grunted his agreement and slung his bow, stepping over bodies with a practiced eye for what was worth taking.

The wolves lingered a little longer, restless energy rippling through them before Hal gave a low chuff that sent them scattering into the dark.

We had blood, broken men, and enough exhaustion to drop all three of us where we stood. What was supposed to be a clean ambush had nearly turned into a burial detail for us instead.

A single man—one, heavily armored brute—had almost turned the tide.
I found myself staring back toward the walls, running the fight through in my head.
What if there'd been a second like him?
What if they'd held assassins in reserve instead of scattering them?
What if their commander had been smart instead of just the strongest in the room?

The answer was simple.
We'd be the ones dead in the dirt right now.

I sighed. "There's always another fight waiting. All we do is choose where we bleed."

The words hit harder than I expected, and the sting in my eyes caught me off guard. This wasn't what I wanted. I'd been content in my little mountain valley—no grand designs, no crowns, no armies. I didn't want more war and death, to be responsible for more lives than my own.

Yet here I was, deciding the fate of this patch of frozen ground, carrying the weight of a god's expectations. The gore at my feet didn't bother me. My role in the universe did. I wasn't supposed to be the harbinger in some half-forgotten myth, dragged back from the void to ruin lives.

Movement drew my eyes—Kelan, silent and watchful, his young face carved into something far older. Beside him, Hal padded into view, the juvenile wolf now tall enough to meet my chest.

I didn't have to speak. The Brand carried my thoughts, and Oathsense bled them into theirs. My doubts, my frustration, my unwilling crown.

And still, they stood with me.

Kelan didn't speak right away—just crouched beside me, his presence solid in the cold. Hal moved closer, pressing his head against my shoulder, a low rumble in his chest. When another wolf tried to edge in, Hal snapped once, short and sharp, claiming the space between us.

"You don't have to want it," Kelan said finally, voice low enough to almost be lost in the wind. "You just have to do it. The rest of us can want it for you. You don't understand how unique you are yet."

I glanced at him. He wasn't smiling, but there was a stubborn warmth in his eyes.

"We build the settlement into something you can live in, not just fight for," he continued. "Somewhere you can retreat to when you've had your fill of the rest of the world. You let the frustration out, out there—then come back to something worth protecting in here." His hand pressed against my chest, then his own, before running through Hal's thick fur.

Hal's tail flicked once against my side, the bond carrying his simple agreement. Pack. Home.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, my gaze sweeping past the gully to the dark horizon. The job I'd agreed to would keep dragging me into other people's wars. But maybe… maybe I could still carve out one place untouched by all that. A place that was mine.

My voice came out low, almost to myself. "Fine. We'll build it. Somewhere the world can't reach… and if it tries?" I looked past them, to the bodies cooling in the dirt. "I'll make them wish they never found it."

Hal pressed in closer, and Kelan just nodded once—no argument, no hesitation. They knew exactly what I meant.

For now, that would have to be enough.