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

A sharp crack of light split the air, and in an instant, five figures emerged in the center of a sprawling stone courtyard. Their arrival sent a ripple through the calm morning as wind rushed out in a burst, rustling leaves and loose papers across the campus.

A faint flare shimmered in the air behind them, a brief pulse of golden light that spiraled into the form of a thin ring. It hovered for a second, spinning lazily in the air like a falling coin.

Cassandra's eyes flicked to it immediately. Without a word, she raised a hand and caught it mid-air, the metal still faintly warm against her palm. Her expression didn't shift as she tucked the ring into the inner pocket of her cloak.

Thorne stumbled forward first, his boots clacking awkwardly against the unfamiliar tiled ground. He tilted his head back, wide-eyed, scanning the sea of people.

But no one had noticed.

Students were clearly lost in their own worlds, eyes locked on glowing screens, earbuds plugged in, fingers scrolling or texting, groups laughing under sun-drenched trees. Some walked past without even glancing up. A literal burst of magic had just exploded in the middle of campus, and not a single head turned.

"There are so many people here," Thorne muttered, spinning slowly. "And seriously? We just show up like thunder gods and not even a blink?

Maybe next time we land with a marching band and fireworks Pyrix chimed dryly in his mind. Or perhaps they're all blind. Or enchanted. Or deeply, tragically fashion-blind. Look at that one, did he glue leaves to his pants?

Thorne blinked at a passing student. …Okay, yeah, I see what you mean.

Lyric stepped beside him, hugging her arms tighter. Her voice was quieter, uncertain. "They're too busy worshipping their tiny glowing gods to notice real ones."

Her gaze swept over the groups nearby—students their age, dressed casually, laughing, talking, lounging. Her brow knit in confusion. "And they're mostly youngsters… how are we supposed to find him in this crowd?"

Several students were now openly staring. Some pointed. Others began recording with their phones. The group's attire stood out like a shadow against the ordinary hum of daily life, dark cloaks, leather boots, enchanted satchels, and belts that glinted faintly with runes. To them, they were dressed for survival. To the humans, they looked like a Renaissance fair had suddenly exploded into real life.

Elias shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his collar as he watched a boy pass by wearing a hooded sweatshirt that read "Trust me, I'm a Jedi." His frown deepened. "What kind of place is this?"

Cassandra turned slowly, taking in the towering glass buildings and flashing screens everywhere. Her eyes flicked to the students' clothes — casual, colorful, strange.

"I've never seen anything like this," she murmured. "Their dressing style… the way they're all glued to their phones. It's like the world around them doesn't even exist."

Sentinel stood a few steps ahead, calm and composed, his cloak unmoving despite the light breeze. His eyes, cool and observant, scanned the buildings and students like he was dissecting them in silence.

"You wouldn't have," he said after a pause. "None of you have ever crossed into the human territories before. This is one of their learning grounds — a college. A place where they shape their youth."

Thorne raised a brow, taking in the buzzing crowd. "They learn here? Dressed like that?" He blinked at someone wearing a hoodie covered in rainbow mushrooms and tiny frogs. "No offense, but it looks more like a festival."

Sentinel didn't blink. "They do much more than learn. Humans don't rely on magic, wings, or claws. While we depend on physical strength and natural abilities, they lean entirely on intellect. Their minds are their greatest weapon."

He paused, his gaze sweeping across the buildings, the flashing lights, the fast-moving vehicles in the distance.

"Their way of life is completely different from ours," he said quietly, as if more to himself. "No rites of power. No ancestral trials. Just... growth. Through invention. Through will."

His tone shifted, curious, almost reverent.

"In our lands, humans are often dismissed as the weakest, fragile, powerless. But look around. These devices, this technology… we use much of it ourselves now. Their innovations and ideas spread across borders faster than most spells."

His gaze swept across the students, many still lost in their glowing screens.
"Phones, to them, are not just tools. They are extensions of thought — used to create, to connect, to build entire worlds. Of all the races across Zephyros, humans are the most intelligent kind. That's what makes them dangerous."

Their surroundings grew stranger the more they looked. Murals sprawled across brick walls. Bikes zipped past without warning. A vending machine hummed beside a tree where a group of students lounged with glowing screens in their laps. Somewhere in the distance, a bell chimed once.

Lyric's gaze drifted across the campus with wonder. "It feels like stepping into a dream painted by someone who's never needed magic to believe."

Elias stood tense beside her, eyes sharp and watchful. "A dream that doesn't want us in it." His voice was low, wary. "We don't belong here. Look at them."

Just then, Cassandra caught sight of a student's shirt, animated cats flying through space on slices of pizza. She blinked hard.

"…What even is that?"

Thorne leaned toward her, a grin playing on his lips. "I kind of want one."

A group of students nearby burst into laughter, one of them whispering something while sneakily filming the strange newcomers. Another nudged his friend and whispered, "Dude, that guy with the auburn hair looks like a prince or something. What is this, some fantasy film shoot?"

Thorne's ears perked at the mention. He casually flipped his auburn hair back, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "A prince, huh? Finally, someone with taste."

Prince of Pomp and Hair Flips Pyrix muttered in his mind, the dragon's voice dry and amused. Should I kneel or roll my eyes?

You're just jealous you don't have hair Thorne shot back mentally, still smiling outwardly.

Lyric's eyes widened slightly, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. She exchanged a glance with Elias, who stared at Thorne with an almost unbelievable expression, part disbelief, part "Did he really just say that?"

Cassandra let out a short laugh, arms crossed. "Relax, Your Highness. They probably thought you were part of a fantasy cosplay group."

Thorne scoffed, but his grin didn't fade. "Come on, Cass, you can't deny I bring the royal flair."

Sentinel didn't acknowledge the chatter. His gaze had locked onto something, or someone, further ahead. His expression shifted, subtle but alert.

"We're not here to blend in," he said finally, voice low and resolute. "He's here. Somewhere among them. And whether he understands it yet or not… he's already seen what none of us have."

The five of them moved through the crowd like shadows out of place, cloaks brushing against backpacks, boots tapping against polished stone paths, earning more than a few confused glances. Some students whispered, others stared outright. But they kept moving, eyes sharp and scanning, weaving between benches and groups clustered around food stalls and shade trees.

Despite their searching, the human boy they had come for was nowhere in sight.

Elias's brows furrowed as they came to a halt near a circular fountain, its jets dancing under the morning light. He turned a slow circle, eyes narrowing. "I don't think he's here."

Cassandra didn't answer at first. She looked calm, but there was a flicker of tension in her jaw. Her fingers brushed over the silver charm at her waist, a spell-lock, softly humming with a residual glow.

"If he wasn't here," she said coolly, "my magic wouldn't have brought us to this exact location."

Thorne leaned back against a campus signpost, grinning. "Or maybe your magic just needs glasses."

Cassandra didn't dignify the remark with a glare. She adjusted the clasp on her cloak and stepped out toward the center of the pathway, her eyes scanning the students with focus. "Watch and learn, flame-breath."

Thorne chuckled under his breath but followed her lead with the others close behind.

Sentinel remained at the back, his arms folded, eyes flicking over every group with the practiced sharpness of someone trained to assess danger from subtle movement. "He's somewhere out there, and we need to find him. No matter what, we can't let him slip away."

Lyric glanced around nervously as they passed a tall glass building. "This place is so alive," she murmured. "Everyone's moving so fast, and yet… none of them know what's coming."

"Nor should they," Sentinel replied. "Not yet..

Just as they rounded the corner of the building, a sudden hush fell over the group.

Lyric, who had been quietly scanning their surroundings, halted mid-step. Her arm darted out, fingers curling tightly around Elias's sleeve. "There," she murmured, voice low but edged with urgency. "Behind those hedges. Near the wall."

The group followed her gaze.

Tucked away in a shadowed corner of the courtyard, far from the clusters of passing people and bustling pathways, five figures loomed in a tight semicircle. Hidden just beyond a line of trees and ivy-covered stone, their movements were almost easy to miss, until the laughter cut through. Not loud enough to draw attention, but sharp, jeering. The kind that sank deep and festered.

One boy had another pressed against the wall with casual cruelty, gripping the front of his shirt. The boy cornered looked younger, slighter, his satchel hung off one shoulder, scuffed and slipping. He didn't fight back. But his hands were curled into fists, jaw rigid, like he was swallowing every word that might get him hurt.

Elias's breath hitched. "It's him," he muttered, eyes fixed on the boy.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Thorne stepped forward, brow furrowed. "The one we saw back in the vampire territory," he said slowly. "I recognize that face."

Lyric's expression shifted, not surprise, but something heavier. "He's definitely the same. I didn't expect to find him like… this."

Cassandra tilted her head, surveying the scene. Her tone was even. "You're saying one of those boys, the ones doing the bullying, is the same one who told you how to kill that invader?"

"No," Thorne replied sharply, motioning toward the center. "Not them. Him. The one they're bullying."

Cassandra blinked, confusion briefly flashing in her eyes. "That one?"

Sentinel stepped forward slightly, eyes narrowing. His stare landed on the boy pinned to the wall. "Interesting…"

The boy still hadn't cried out. He simply stood there, enduring it. Silent. Steady. As if this wasn't the first time he'd been in that position.

Elias's voice dropped. "He doesn't even look scared. Just… used to it."

Cassandra's brows drew together as she looked at the boy, her voice low with disbelief.
"Is he really the one we're meant to find? He's not just human, he looks so small and fragile."

Thorne folded his arms, skepticism radiating from him. "If this is the key to saving our world, someone up there has a pretty twisted sense of humor."

As they watched, Sentinel's gaze sharpened, and suddenly, Vaelthar's low voice echoed in his mind. There he stands… unaware of what stirs beneath his skin. We must learn if he is the one we've searched for across flame and ruin. The one who will either unite… or undo it all.

Sentinel's jaw tightened. He didn't reply aloud, but in the space between his thoughts, his answer came clearly. Then the waiting ends. Let's see if he's the one who can help us win this war.

He exhaled slowly, then spoke to the others.

"Stay calm. Do not draw attention. If this boy is truly the one… we'll need to see for ourselves. Observe how he reacts. How he survives when no one stands for him."

"But we can't just let them keep pushing him around," Elias muttered.

Sentinel's tone was calm, but firm. "I didn't say we'd let it continue. I said we'll watch for a moment… then intervene. This human, this boy, might be more than he appears."

The group tensed slightly, the weight of the moment settling on them.

Lyric's eyes never left the boy. "Then let's find out who he really is."

As the group moved silently across the courtyard, their steps masked by the murmurs and laughter of passing students, a sharp voice pierced through the dusk-drenched air.

"I'm not afraid of you," the boy said.

The words were firm, but tension clung to them like a fraying thread. He stood rigid, hoodie stretched where a taller student's fist twisted into the collar, pulling him forward. His face was flushed, lips taut, but his eyes didn't waver.

The one gripping him — broad, smug, and reeking of arrogance — leaned closer with a sneer.

"Aww, look at that. Still acting like a hero, Eddy," he mocked. "You gonna call your vampire friends next? Or maybe summon your werewolf daddy to come save you?"

The others standing nearby burst into laughter, sharp, and cruel.

"You ever think about how pathetic it is?" the second said. "Grown-ass college kid still believing in vampires and witches like some little kid hiding under the blanket."

Another laughed from behind. "Yeah, what's next? Werewolves in the gym showers? Maybe he thinks fairies leave notes in his textbooks."

"Bet he writes fanfics about them," the fourth chimed in with a mocking lilt. "Oooh, dark and broody vampire prince falls in love with a nerdy human. Sound familiar, freak?"

"How can he actually believe that crap," the first one said, tightening his grip. "Vampires. Werewolves. Witches. Pfft. What's next? He thinks dragons are real too?"

"Oh no, don't forget the fae," another added mockingly. "Sparkly little elf princesses whispering secrets in his dreams. Get real, freak."

But Eddy didn't flinch. His jaw clenched tighter.

"You don't know anything," he said through gritted teeth.

The one holding him didn't like that. His fist came without warning.

Crack.

It collided with Eddy's face, snapping his head sideways. Blood immediately welled along his lower lip where it had split. He staggered, but didn't fall.

Didn't cry.

Didn't beg.

Just slowly turned back, eyes steady, breathing heavy.

"You done?" he muttered.

The laughter died off. Briefly.

From a distance, all five pairs of eyes widened—Elias, Thorne, Lyric, Cassandra, and Sentinel—momentarily frozen in place.

Elias let out a breath, stunned. "He's still not backing down… And he knows one of them would be enough to silence him. But there are five."

Thorne gave a low whistle. "He's got guts. Or he's just stupid."

Lyric didn't speak. Her eyes, however, softened, just slightly.

Cassandra tilted her head. "That kind of resolve… it's rare to see. Especially one so outmatched."

Sentinel's gaze darkened with focus. "His strength doesn't lie in magic or might. It lies in his will. That alone makes him valuable."

Then the boy gripping Eddy's collar leaned in again, grinning.

"You're seriously messed up, man. You're worshipping ghosts and fairy tales. Tell me, what's next? A guardian angel with a stick up his ass gonna float down and smite me?"

He laughed loud, unaware that a small group stood just a few steps away, having heard every mocking word.

The words hung in the air.

Then—

"A guardian angel with a stick up his ass?" Thorne's brows arched. He glanced sideways at Sentinel and muttered, "Someone didn't hear that."

"I think he just did," Lyric said softly, her lips curling into a small, dangerous smile.

Sentinel didn't move. He didn't speak.

But his eyes, sharp, calm, and cold as steel, were already locked on the boy who dared speak the words. A silent, surgical kind of focus. The kind that made predators go quiet in the wild.

The air around them shifted. Heavy. Tense.

Elias exhaled slowly, his gaze on the group of bullies. "They really have no idea what they just invited."

Lyric's eyes narrowed slightly, her voice a breath above a whisper.

"I almost feel bad for them."

Thorne folded his arms. "Nah."

Sentinel's voice dropped low, a conspiratorial murmur laced with danger.
"Why don't we show them a little… of what they mock?"

Cassandra exhaled, like someone who had just been asked to take out the trash. "Fine," she said with a shrug, already stepping forward. "Besides," she added, her boots clicking softly, "even if they remember any of this, no one's going to believe them."

She rounded the corner, stepping lightly into the shadowed courtyard nook where the confrontation had unfolded. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting silvery threads across the stone like starlight.

The bullies froze, their smirks fading as they suddenly realized someone far more dangerous than their usual victims had entered the scene.

The one who had been gripping Eddy's collar blinked, his confident smirk faltering for a brief moment.

Then it snapped back—too strong, too confident.

"Well, hello there," he drawled, releasing his hold on Eddy with a shove. "Didn't know the drama club was recruiting models now."

Eddy stumbled forward, nearly falling but managing to catch himself. His breath was ragged, and pain flared sharply across his bruised face where blood trickled from his split lip. His hands trembled for a moment, but he squared his shoulders and met the eyes of the Cassandra, refusing to look broken.

Another of the bullies chuckled darkly, nodding toward Eddy. "Lost, pretty lady? Or here to babysit this loser?" He jerked his thumb at Eddy. "Sorry, we don't do that here."

Eddy's gaze flicked toward the Cassandra, a spark of relief flashing in his eyes as if silently hoping she would turn the tide.

Cassandra tilted her head, blinking slowly like an unimpressed cat.

"So much testosterone," she said with calm disdain. "So little brain."

The leader stepped forward, winking. "Hey, no need to get mean. Unless… you're into bad boys?"

She raised a hand lazily, her index finger tapping her cheek.

"Alright then," she said smoothly. "Let's play."

Eddy's eyes widened slightly, surprised and somewhat reassured as the bullies suddenly found themselves on the defensive.

She took a breath and began.

"Trip."

The leader's shoelaces snapped to life, twisting and yanking his feet inward. He crashed face-first into the dirt with a thud that echoed in the courtyard.

"Sparkle."

The second bully hiccupped violently, sending a stream of glitter shooting from his mouth. Then another. Then another. Soon he looked like a busted piñata at a unicorn's birthday party.

"Bro...I can't...hic...breathe!" he wheezed, then burped a stream of stars.

"Inflate."

The third bully's hoodie ballooned rapidly until he resembled a waddling beanbag, arms pinned tight.

"I CAN'T SEE! IT'S TOUCHING MY NECK!"

"Bare."

The fourth blinked, and his pants vanished with a pop, replaced by heart-covered boxers. He shrieked, tripped, and landed with a loud splat.

"WHY IS THERE A DRAFT?!"

"Faint."

The fifth made eye contact for a single second, then keeled over like a felled tree.

She smoothed her sleeves, her expression calm and composed, as if she'd just finished a simple task rather than taking down five delinquents. "Honestly. Boys these days. Bravado made of paper."

Eddy's breath caught in his throat. His eyes widened, unable to believe what he was seeing.

That was when the temperature dropped.

Not because of magic—but because of Elias.

He stepped from the shadows like he'd been waiting for his moment. Every step was calculated, every movement slow and smooth, like someone auditioning for the role of "Most Brooding Vampire 2025."

His boots clicked like a metronome of doom.

Eddy blinked, heart skipping a beat. He hadn't expected to see Elias here, and for a moment, he was stunned.

The last two conscious bullies gawked as he emerged, coat fluttering, hair slightly windswept from a breeze no one else could feel.

And then... Elias smiled.

Not a warm smile.

Oh no.

A wide, gleaming, fang-baring grin that said 'I read Dracula for breakfast and liked the taste.'

"You were laughing about vampires earlier," he said, voice rich and silky, "mocking monsters… fairy tales… bloodsuckers…"

He paused, blinking slowly, gaze sharp and unreadable.

"Well—congratulations," he purred, stepping forward, "today's special is fear-seasoned idiot with a side of regret."

The glitter-hiccup boy screamed and ran straight into the hoodie-balloon kid, who squeaked like a chew toy as they both collapsed into a tangled heap.

The pantsless one stirred, took one look at Elias's fangs, and yelled, "I'M VEGETARIAN!" before passing out again.

Elias sighed.

"Honestly," he muttered, adjusting his collar with a slow, deliberate motion, "I didn't even do anything."

Cassandra glanced at him, deadpan. "You smiled."

He smirked. "Yes. I'm terrifying, apparently."

Thorne strolled over, hands in his pockets, eyebrow raised as he eyed the five unconscious bodies scattered across the concrete.
"Well... this turned into a nap party real fast," he quipped, nudging one with his boot. "Should we leave them a blanket or a warning label?"

Lyric stepped beside him, arms crossed, an amused smirk playing on her lips.
"They had a lot of bark for boys who can't handle a little magic and fangs."

Sentinel, ever composed, surveyed the scene with a cool detachment.
"They like to show off in front of the weak," he said flatly. "Never thought they'd get humbled in broad daylight."

Just then, a faint groan pulled their attention. The boy they had come for stood unsteadily, swaying slightly but holding himself upright, blinking rapidly as his gaze darted between them.

Confusion flickered in the his eyes. Then fear.

His gaze landed on Elias, and locked there like he was seeing a ghost.

"You…" he breathed, voice shaking. "Why are you all here?"

Elias stepped forward, his brow furrowed, voice calm. "We came to find you."

Eddy stumbled back a step, shaking his head rapidly, panic rising like a tide.
"No, no... I didn't mean to go there! I wasn't spying, I swear! I didn't even know it was your territory. I—I don't even know how I got there! I didn't mean anything by it!"

The group exchanged sharp, confused glances.

Sentinel stepped forward slightly, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you mean… how?"

"I mean I don't know!" Eddy cried, voice cracking. "One second I was in my dormitory, sleeping, and then the next, I was just… there! In that place! I don't know anything! I have nothing to do with you people! Just...just leave me alone!"

He stiffened, inching backward, eyes locked on Elias with growing panic.

But before he could turn, Thorne casually stepped into his path, hands out.
"Hey, bro—hold up." His tone was calm, but his eyes had sharpened. "I don't care how you got there… The real question is, how the hell did you know how to kill that demon? Because we didn't. Not even a clue."

Eddy froze, eyes darting to Thorne, then to the others. His breathing was fast and shallow.

Elias moved between them gently, holding a hand out to Thorne without looking at him.
"Thorne… let me."

He turned to Eddy, voice soft but steady. "I know you're scared. You've never seen anything like this before. You weren't supposed to. Not yet."

Eddy's lips trembled, eyes glistening. Elias continued.

"But you saw it anyway. And you did something none of us saw coming. That demon… you told us how to kill him. Somehow, you knew."

Elias stepped a little closer. "We need to understand how. We're not here to hurt you. But without answers… we can't just let you walk away."

Eddy's chest heaved as if trying to force the air back into his lungs.

Then Sentinel's voice cut in, quiet but firm. "We know you know things. Things even we don't understand. You may not realize it yet, but what you've seen, what you've done… it matters. Not just to us, but to you too."

He took a single step forward. "Whatever's happening… your life is already tied to it. If we don't figure this out, if you keep running—you'll be the first one it destroys."

A long, heavy silence followed.

Eddy's eyes moved from one face to another. He looked at Sentinel, then Cassandra, then the others. But when he met Elias's eyes, his gaze dropped. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles white.

"Things like this… they've always happened around me," he murmured. "I don't know why. I don't understand any of it, I never have."

He looked up, haunted and wide-eyed.

"But if you want answers…" he swallowed hard. "Then you're not the only ones looking for them."