The Protectors: Rising from Ashes [Progression Fantasy | Action-Packed | Epic Battles]

Elias shot up from his seat, the sharp scrape of wood against stone splitting the room like a blade.

"What?!"

Every sound died. The clatter of dishes, the low hum of conversation, gone in an instant, as if laughter itself had been swept from the table.

Spoons hovered mid-air. Thorne's hand went limp, his dropped spoon landing in his stew with a dull plop. Across from him, Alice froze with a chunk of bread halfway to her mouth, her eyes wide, lips parted. Aiden's cup stalled just beneath his lips, the tension in his jaw visible as his grip tightened. Lyric, seated closest to the window, went rigid. Her goblet trembled slightly in her fingers. And from the far end, Cassandra set down her fork without a word, her eyes locked on Elias, narrowing with growing concern.

The room held its breath.

Then Sentinel raised his hand. Calm, but firm. Grounding. "Elias. Breathe. I know that look—you're not scared. You're spiraling."

Elias's fists curled at his sides. His shoulders trembled, barely, but enough. "I'm not spiraling," he muttered through clenched teeth. "It's not nerves. It's..."

His voice wavered, but he forced the words through. "They've always looked at me like I didn't belong. Like I was the weakest link in the chain. A cracked mirror in a room full of polished glass."

His eyes swept the table but didn't settle on anyone. "Now that Duskveil Plaza is in ruins, they'll be looking for someone to blame. And it'll be me."

The silence that followed was dense, not empty, but weighted with unspoken agreement.

Thorne leaned forward, pushing his half-full bowl aside, voice quiet but steady. "They already weren't thrilled when we were chosen."

He let out a humorless breath, glancing toward the high arched windows, as if remembering.
"On ceremony day, they grumbled, but they had no solid reason to stop it. Now, after what happened in Duskveil? Now they have reason."

The words landed hard.

"So many vampires are dead," Elias added, the edge of his voice dulled to a whisper. "They're not completely wrong. So many lives were destroyed, because we weren't ready."

The tension snapped again, only this time, it was Sentinel who sliced through it, his voice rising.

"Don't start blaming yourself again."

The table turned toward him. His eyes burned with something deeper than anger—regret, maybe, but steadier.

"Yes, vampires died. But it wasn't all on you. You weren't fully prepared, because we hadn't finished preparing you. And that invader... it wasn't like anything we expected. It fought with something far darker."

He sat back, arms crossing over his chest, voice dropping into a cold honesty.

"Whenever war begins, people die. It's cruel, it's ugly, but it's the truth. And it wasn't your fault alone."

No one interrupted.

Then Lyric exhaled through her nose, slow and sharp. She folded her arms, the tips of her fingers digging into her sleeves.

"It's not just Elias they'll blame." Her lips quirked into a thin, brittle line. "Let's be honest, none of us exactly scream 'Chosen Savior' on paper."

Thorne gave a low snort, raising a brow as he leaned back, arms spread in mock grandeur.

"A disappointment with wings, remember? Born into power, but not enough of it. They'll eat that up."

Aiden finally set down his cup. His grip had left faint tremors in the ceramic.

"They already think I'm a runt. This just confirms what they've always believed, that I don't belong. That I'll never be Alpha. Just a failed legacy with a weak bite."

Alice popped the rest of her bread in her mouth and chewed slowly, then gave a small shrug, her eyes fixed on the tabletop.

"They say I'm broken. That I don't belong because my magic never worked, not a single spell."

Her tone was flat, not bitter. Just honest. "They see failure when they look at me. Deadweight."

She didn't look at anyone in particular, but her voice didn't waver. "They're not entirely wrong, but that doesn't mean I don't care."

Across the table, Elias looked up. His eyes met each of theirs in turn, no words, just recognition. The cracks between them didn't feel like weaknesses anymore.

Maris stood beside Cassandra, a goblet in hand, untouched. She hadn't spoken until now. Her gaze swept over the five, measured, unreadable, before settling on Elias, steady and unflinching.

Her voice was quiet but clear.

"Let them watch. Let them judge. If they can't see past their pride and fear, that's not your failure. That's theirs."

The words hung in the air. This time, no one argued.

"They won't stop at judgment," Lyric said softly. She shifted in her seat, her voice lower now. "They'll try to push us out. If they had the power to unchoose us, they would."

"Too bad for them," Aiden muttered with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. "That choice wasn't theirs to make."

Cassandra, silent until now, placed her hands calmly on the table, her voice unwavering.

"They're coming with questions. Maybe even accusations. But don't mistake their volume for power. The Eclipse Heart chose you. Not their councils. Not their traditions."

Sentinel leaned forward again, fingers steepled, expression unreadable but resolute.

"She's right. The elders will come with words meant to rattle you. Let them talk. Your answers won't matter nearly as much as your actions when the next threat comes."

A breeze whispered against the stained-glass windows, the flicker of light dancing with the shadows it carried.

No one moved. But there was something different in the air now, an unspoken understanding that this… this was not the end.

The conversation at the table slowly faded into silence, the weight of the night lingering like smoke. Maris stood unmoving beside Cassandra, her goblet untouched in her hand, its contents catching the soft glow of the overhead lights. The others resumed eating, not out of hunger, but because there was nothing else to do. Forks moved mechanically. The taste of food, once comforting, now sat flat and distant on their tongues.

Sentinel leaned subtly toward Cassandra, his voice pitched low, almost lost in the stillness.

"We need to find that boy before the elders arrive. Be ready with everything you need. We leave at first light."

Cassandra nodded once, brisk and steady.

"Understood, sir. I'll finish the enchantment tonight."

No one raised their voice after that. No jokes. No second rounds. Just quiet plates and even quieter thoughts.

By the time the soft overhead lights dimmed and the last dishes were cleared, the chosen ones drifted from the hall one by one. No conversation. No direction. Just a quiet agreement to face the unknown tomorrow, however it came.

But Cassandra did not turn toward her room.

She took the narrow hall at the end of the corridor, the one half-swallowed in shadow. Her boots made the faintest thuds against the stone floor, too light to echo. Behind a thick wooden door, the alchemical chamber pulsed with a faint blue glow.

Inside, she moved like someone following steps she'd memorized long ago. Her coat was shed and hung neatly on a hook. Sleeves rolled. Hair tied. Lanterns lit with a flick of her wrist.

On the central stone table, she laid out her tools: powdered sigil salts, crushed starpetal, loops of fine crystal wire, and a moon-washed watch—old and worn, once belonging to the boy they now had to find. The ring rested at the center, delicate and gleaming with faint magical threads stitched into its design.

As her hands began to work, time outside continued its quiet march.

Above, Lyric sat on the windowsill in her room, the cool pane pressed to her cheek. Her knees were drawn to her chest, arms wrapped loosely around them. Astraea hovered just beside her, wings slowly folding and unfolding, a silent presence in the dimness.

"They're going to demand explanations," Lyric murmured to the wind. "And we'll have none."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Back in the chamber, Cassandra's voice stirred the silence.

"By watch and ring, by time and trace, let fate unwind this hidden place."

The glyphs beneath the ring flared to life, each line catching light like fire running across a fuse. She placed the boy's watch beside the ring, and the spell shimmered in response. Threads of energy leapt between them, crackling faintly in the air.

In his room, Elias sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, a sealed blood bag turning over and over in his hands. He wasn't drinking. Just... holding. The cool plastic felt real. Anchor-like. His fangs ached dully in his gums, but thirst didn't reach him. Not tonight.

His eyes never left the floor.

In the chamber, Cassandra sprinkled whisperroot essence into the center of the rune. A slow hiss answered her, and the ring began to lift, hovering, slowly spinning. It cast faint shadows that danced across her focused face.

Above in the common room, Thorne slouched on the couch, his fingers tracing shallow lines into the wood grain, restless. His shoulders sagged, exhaustion weighing heavy. Across from him, Aiden lounged in an armchair, chin tilted upward, sharp blue eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

"They won't be easy to face tomorrow," Aiden muttered, voice rough. "The Elders... they'll come with more than doubts this time."

Thorne nodded slowly. "And that boy… I hope we'll get some answers, how he knows so much when he shouldn't."

Cassandra moved around the floating ring, adjusting the boy's watch so it aligned with the inner spell matrix. Magical tension prickled the air, threads humming softly now. The spell was responding.

Upstairs, Alice sat cross-legged on her bed, her spellbook open in her lap. Pages rustled beneath her fingers, but her eyes never moved line to line. Ash was curled like a shadow on the windowsill, his breathing slow. Noir lounged on her pillow, tail flicking occasionally.

"They say I'm chaos," she whispered. "But what do you call someone who's never managed a single spell?"

The ring pulsed. Cassandra's fingers brushed over the engraved interior, whispering softly:

"Let the rhythm of time and the bond once worn reveal the path now sworn."

The ring stilled mid-air, then turned. A soft glow expanded outward from it like a ripple on water. The spell had locked on.

In his quarters, Sentinel stood by the tall window, one hand braced against the frame, the other folded behind his back. Below, the moonlight washed over the training grounds where the Chosen Ones had sparred earlier that day. The grass shimmered faintly, undisturbed, waiting.

Vaelthar voice stirred into his mind. "Tomorrow, we'll know if that boy is the one we're looking for or not."

Sentinel's gaze didn't waver. His thoughts answered calmly. "Yes. But we'll also need to handle the elders."

Vaelthar's voice returned, a low rumble edged with warning. "Last time, their disappointment sank like rot into the hearts of the Chosen Ones. This time, they won't just doubt—they'll accuse. We must ensure they don't shackle their confidence again... like they always do."

Sentinel's eyes narrowed slightly, the reflection of the training grounds gleaming in the glass.

"We can't shield them from every accusation, Vaelthar. They're the future protectors of Zephyros. They need to learn how to face it."

There was a pause, weighty and thoughtful.

"Yes," Vaelthar said at last. "They should learn... but when they're ready. And when that time comes, they won't need us to stand between them and anyone."

Back in the alchemical chamber, the ring hovered gently above the glowing glyph. Its pulse had steadied, a quiet heartbeat pointing the way forward.

Cassandra exhaled and stepped back. Her work was done.

But sleep did not come to the five.

The ring pulsed.

The wind whispered.

And the night, though silent, was very much alive.

Morning light streamed through the high windows of the alchemical chamber, bathing the space in soft gold. Vials glimmered, pages rustled in the faint breeze of lingering enchantments, and the scent of old parchment mingled with crushed herbs. In the center of it all stood Cassandra, still in the same coat from last night, her eyes shadowed with fatigue.

Sentinel entered quietly, his gaze finding her amidst the soft hum of runes still flickering on the floor. She was bent over a luminous circle, one hand adjusting the stone settings while the other held a small, weathered object, an old watch, its cracked face ticking faintly.

"Have you prepared everything, Cassandra?" Sentinel asked, stepping beside her.

She straightened slowly, the glow of the spell-circle casting pale light across her cheek. "Mm. Yes. Everything's ready." Her voice was hoarse, her face drawn, but her eyes remained sharp.

He nodded, a flicker of pride softening his expression. "You've done more than I could've asked for. I know I don't say it enough, but… without you, none of this would be possible. Thank you."

She gave a faint, crooked smile. "Just don't let them get themselves killed. That's thanks enough."

The chamber door creaked open again as the others arrived—Elias, Lyric, Aiden, Alice, and Thorne. Tension clung to them like smoke; their eyes carried the weight of a night without rest.

Elias stepped forward first, brow furrowed. "Did you find him? The boy?"

"Not yet," Cassandra murmured, holding up the obsidian ring. "But I'm about to."

She moved fully into the center of the glyph-inscribed circle. A flat map of Zephyros lay embedded in the floor, etched into the stone with delicate precision, now glowing faintly as the runes came to life.

At the very heart, she placed the watch, then gently lifted the ring above it. The moment the ring hovered into place, the watch began to tremble, its hands spinning counterclockwise with a soft whir, as if time itself recoiled. The circle's enchantments flared to life, tracing brighter outlines across the flat map.

She stepped out of the circle, and her voice wove into the air, low and measured:

"Guide of time, thread of fate,
Reveal the path, open the gate.
Blood and bond, through magic spun,
Show me the place of the missing one."

The ring shimmered, floating higher. Then, with a sudden pulse of blue light, the watch released a spark that struck the ring's underside. It stilled, then slowly began to rotate.

Lines of magic spread outward across the map like glowing veins. The light coiled southeast, then anchored, far from the Duskveil Plaza, deep near the marked region of the Velshade ruins.

"There," Cassandra breathed, stepping back. "He's alive. Near the Velshade ruins."

Thorne leaned closer, eyes narrowing at the glowing spot. "Are you sure he's there? If he's alive, that means he's left the vampire territory, and that's far from Duskveil Plaza. That doesn't seem likely."

Cassandra's eyes stayed fixed on the ring above the watch. "Are you doubting my magic?"

"No... not doubting," He blinked, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm just asking."

A sly smile tugged at her lips. "Want me to turn you into a chicken so you can check yourself?"

A pause.

"…I'm good," Thorne muttered. "Clucking's not really my style."

Aiden took a step toward the chamber door. "Then let's go."

"Where do you think you're going?" Cassandra asked, raising a brow.

"To the Eclipse Gates," Aiden said, voice steady. "They'll get us to the ruins faster."

A shadow detached itself from the corner, Sentinel. His voice was low, firm. "You can't just use the Gates for every trip."

Elias frowned. "What do you mean?"

"After we find the boy, I'll explain," Sentinel said, eyes sharp.

Alice glanced between them. "Okay, but… how do we get to Velshade if we can't use the Gates?"

Cassandra tapped the hovering ring. "With this. I've woven spells into it. It can guide and transport up to five people at most. It will get us there."

Elias stepped forward, gaze flicking between the glowing ring and the map on the floor. "But why only five? Why not all of us?"

Cassandra smirked. "I'm a witch, Elias—not a teleportation device." She tapped her temple. "Moving five is already pushing me to the edge. Without the ring, I'd be out cold for days. Luckily, this little thing does the heavy lifting."

Lyric stepped forward, concern shadowing her face. "And the rest of us?"

Before anyone answered, the chamber door swung open again.

"So, what's the news?" Maris strode in, arms folded. "Have you found the boy?"

Sentinel nodded, slow and certain. "Yes. We have his location and we're preparing to leave now."

He turned, gaze narrowing on Aiden and Alice. "You two will stay here with Maris. Someone needs to remain when the Elders arrive."

Their bodies stiffened like pulled strings. Aiden's eyes widened, shoulders tensing. Alice blinked, mouth parting slightly in disbelief.

"But… why us?" Aiden asked, surprise thick in his voice.

"It's not about just you two," the Sentinel said, voice like iron. "We all can't go, and someone must remain here to face the Elders. They'll demand answers."

Cassandra's voice cut in, sharper than usual. "And you'll have to give them excuses—convincing ones. You can't tell them where we've gone."

Alice's brows knitted. "And why is that?"

Sentinel turned slowly, the light from the glyphs carving hard lines across his face. "What do you think?" His voice dropped. "You five are from the strongest bloodlines on Zephyros… and yet, because of your 'imperfections,' your kind barely tolerated you. You've been called disappointments, weak links. Now tell me…"

He took a single step forward, shadows shifting around him. "How do you think they'll react when they find out we've gone to seek help from a human—the kind they consider the weakest of all?"

The silence that followed was like a slap.

Alice looked away.

Aiden's jaw tightened.

Thorne tilted his head, lifting a brow. "Well, I'd say they'll throw a party. Bake a cake. Maybe name a street after Elias, 'Welcome to Human Avenue, please enjoy your crippling prejudice on the left.'"

Aiden exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed.

Elias muttered under his breath, "Not the time, Thorne…"

Lyric's mouth twitched, fighting a smile.

Sentinel didn't even blink. "You think this is a joke?"

"No," Thorne said, shrugging. "But I figured someone should lighten the mood before the Elders start lighting torches."

Cassandra stepped into the circle, rolling her eyes. "Stars above. He could be dangling off a cliff and still crack a joke."

She lifted the obsidian ring, letting it hover. "One day he'll take something seriously—and I fear the world might end when he does."

She let out a slow breath. "I'm starting the spell now," she said. The sigils at her feet pulsed, the map glowing brighter beneath her.

She raised her voice just above a whisper. "It's time. Take each other's hands."

They moved like clockwork.

Sentinel stepped in first, clasping Cassandra's left hand. Elias followed, reaching for her right. Lyric and Thorne slid in from the sides, fingers locking, forming the circle.

The ring trembled, levitating slowly as ribbons of light unfurled from its core.

Outside the circle, Aiden, Alice, and Maris stood still, silent and watching.

Cassandra began to chant.

Her voice fell into a steady rhythm, each word deliberate and heavy with ancient power:

"By ancient light and shadow's veil,
Through time's embrace we now set sail.
From distant realms and hidden ways,
Guide us through the darkened haze."

The words were old, older than any tongue they'd ever heard spoken aloud. Magic thickened in the air, warping sound, dragging light into spirals. Glyphs ignited beneath their feet, illuminating their faces in shifting tones. The ring lifted higher, trembling in time with her voice.

"O spirits bound by fate's design,
Unfold the path, the stars align.
Across the veil, beyond the night,
Bring us swiftly into light."

The hum built—deep, ancient, alive.

Elias turned, his eyes finding Aiden, then Alice.

"We'll try to get back as soon as we can, before the Elders arrive," he said. His voice held steady, though a flicker of worry tightened his grip. "I promise."

Aiden nodded once, eyes dark and steady. Alice folded her arms across her chest, her stare holding Elias like it could shield him from whatever lay ahead.

The ring flared.

Thorne's form disintegrated into light first, pulled upward in a shimmer of fire.

Lyric followed, dissolving in threads of silver and violet.

Sentinel vanished next, a golden flash devouring his frame.

Elias disappeared a breath later, and Cassandra last, her final word still echoing as the ring blinked out of existence:

"Guide us through the darkened haze."

Silence dropped like a closing vault door.

The map dimmed.

The circle emptied.

Nothing remained but the faintest warmth in the air.

Aiden stepped forward slowly, stopping just at the edge. "They're gone," he said quietly.

Alice didn't move. Her arms clutched tighter around herself. "They have to come back. Before the Elders get here."

Her voice hung like a final warning.

And beside them, Maris stood unmoving, eyes still fixed on the last place the ring had hovered, her face unreadable, her stance set like stone.

Waiting for the storm to arrive.