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

Hearing that question, the shift was immediate.

Chairs no longer creaked. Breath no longer came easy.

Aiden straightened from the bench where he had been half-slouched, his expression wiping clean of humor like chalk from slate. His hands dropped to his sides as if bracing for weight. The grin that had curled on Thorne's face vanished. His arms fell still, his eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching tight.

Lyric didn't speak. Her arms folded in front of her, but the movement was slow, precise. Her gaze stayed fixed on Eddy, unblinking.

Alice didn't even shift. Her hands were by her sides, relaxed but ready, and her eyes held Eddy like a lens focusing to the center of a storm.

Even the smallest sounds sharpened around them. The faint hiss of alchemical burners somewhere in the background. The soft creak of old wood cooling behind the stone walls. But within the circle of those watching eyes, there was no sound at all.

No jokes. No whispers.

Only stillness. And silence.

Every gaze met the same target.

Eddy.

Not in judgment. Not in suspicion.

In something deeper.

A kind of eager certainty. Like what they needed most was finally in front of them, and all that remained was to hear it spoken aloud.

Eddy shifted his feet. His fingers flexed once, twice, before curling inward and disappearing into the cuffs of his sleeves. His eyes dropped to the floor, then slowly lifted again.

"I… don't really know how I got there."

Tension snapped back through the group like wire drawn taut. Aiden leaned in slightly, his shoulders angled forward. Lyric's lips parted just a little, her brows low with concentration. Elias took a quiet step closer, head tilted, watching every word like it might unfold a secret.

Sentinel stood still. His voice sliced clean across the air.

"Start from what you remember."

Eddy nodded slowly. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then shut it again. Another breath filled his lungs. When he spoke again, the words were clearer, though not steadier.

"One moment… I was asleep. In my dorm room. Lights out, door locked. I remember checking the clock."

His brow furrowed, and his voice dropped an inch deeper.

"Next moment—I was in the middle of the mall. Duskveil Mall. People were running. Screaming. There was smoke, broken glass, and something… someone… tearing through it all."

Cassandra flinched. It was subtle, but her hand lifted like she might stop the words before they spread too far.

"Wait. Hold on. We're not following, what exactly are you saying?"

Elias moved forward another step. His voice wasn't sharp this time. It was calm. Grounded.

"Eddy… can you explain it from the beginning? In a way we'll understand?"

Eddy's eyes bounced from face to face. Each one met him with open attention. And even in their focus, he could feel the edge of doubt creeping like cold into his bones.

He pulled in a breath and squared his shoulders.

"I'll try. I mean—I don't know why it happened. Or how. But I'll explain everything I remember."

He parted his lips again, the next word forming on the edge of breath.

A groan echoed through the chamber.

The doors behind them creaked open, wood and stone groaning like old teeth.

All heads turned.

Maris stood just beyond the doorway, outlined in the warm flicker of corridor lights. Her braid slid over one shoulder, neat and composed, while her expression gave away nothing. But her tone, when she spoke, was sharp enough to silence stone.

"Dinner's ready."

The chamber stilled again, like the very walls were waiting.

Sentinel's gaze narrowed by a fraction, chin tilting toward her without moving his boots.

"We'll have dinner after. We're in the middle of something important."

Maris didn't flinch. She crossed her arms with a slow precision, one brow ticking up with the sort of calm that made generals reconsider their orders.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Whatever you're talking about can be talked over plates," she said, her voice as flat as polished steel. "Because the food is hot right now. And cold stew is a crime."

She didn't raise her voice, but the room heard the warning in every syllable. The kind of warning that came from someone who had, at some point, made someone eat cold stew out of pure principle.

It was Thorne who cracked first.

He lifted both hands in the air as if surrendering to a battle he hadn't known he was fighting.

"Honestly? She's got a point. We've been running around all day and I could eat a griffin."

A soft hum flickered in his mind—Pyrix's voice, dry and amused.

You always say that. At this point, I'm convinced you're trying to bulk up for both of us.

Thorne's grin widened, pride slipping into his voice. Someone's gotta carry your dramatic flair.

He rolled his shoulders and added with a glance toward the others, "Let's eat. I swear I'll chew quietly this time."

Lyric raised an eyebrow. "You? Quiet? I'll believe it when the stars fall."

Before Thorne could retort, Cassandra, who had been standing still as glass, let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her voice was quiet, but carried weight.

"Sir, if I may. Food's probably the one thing we all need right now. We'll think clearer with it."

Sentinel's eyes shifted slowly across the room.

Elias looked like the color had drained from his face. Lyric had shifted her weight to one hip, arms looser now at her sides, but her eyes still sharp. Aiden's usual spark had dimmed slightly, and Alice's stance, while straight, held the weariness of someone two steps past tired. Even Thorne, usually a flame barely held in check, now looked like smoke curling from an exhausted fire.

Sentinel's gaze landed on Eddy, still standing at the center of their circle.

The boy hadn't moved. Hadn't spoken.

Just waited.

Sentinel gave a single, short nod.

"Fine. We'll talk over dinner."

Maris didn't gloat, but the slight lift of her chin said plenty. She turned smoothly and strode out of the chamber with the certainty of someone who always wins these arguments.

Thorne's brows shot up. A grin curled across his face, clearly impressed. "Didn't think I'd live to see the day," he muttered under his breath, nudging Aiden lightly with an elbow.

Cassandra, standing beside Sentinel, blinked once. Her eyes flicked toward him with quiet surprise, then softened. Just for a heartbeat, something unreadable passed across her face. Not quite a smile, but close.

The others began to follow.

Sentinel and Cassandra moved in tandem just behind Maris, their pace steady, quiet. Eddy found himself surrounded without even trying. Elias walked to his left, silent but close. Lyric kept just behind, her footsteps light but present. Alice and Thorne flanked his right, and Aiden drifted ahead, glancing over his shoulder once.

The space between them was not large.

But the air between them? Heavy.

Eddy could feel it.

Five sets of eyes flicked toward him at different intervals. Curious. Measuring. Waiting. Their presence pressed on him like invisible waves. He resisted the urge to duck his head, but the itch to look at the floor returned with force.

He coughed lightly, forcing a half-laugh from his throat.

"You guys keep looking at me like I'm gonna grow horns."

Thorne let out a low chuckle and tilted his head as he walked, voice light but dry.

"Not horns. Just... answers."

His eyes narrowed a little, thoughtful but still carrying that edge of mischief.

"Why is it that every time you open your mouth, it sounds like something no sane person would believe?"

Eddy's brows lifted and he gave a helpless shrug, his tone laced with irony.

"Probably because I'm still trying to believe that some people here can burst into massive, fire-breathing beasts without warning."

That hit like a spark to dry leaves.

Alice exhaled a laugh through her nose. Elias covered his mouth, shoulders shaking faintly. Lyric let out a small sigh that might have been a laugh. Even Cassandra, walking ahead, let the corner of her mouth tilt upward for half a second.

Aiden turned his head with a grin aimed directly at Thorne.

"Well, looks like someone finally showed up to roast your nonsense back."

Thorne clutched at his chest in mock betrayal.

"Et tu, furball?"

Eddy looked to the ceiling dramatically. "Yep. Definitely gonna need food for this."

Their footsteps turned down the corridor, the sound softer now against worn stone. Their voices trailed behind them like light trailing the edge of dusk.

Just behind Maris, Sentinel walked in silence. His stride never wavered, boots striking the floor in deliberate rhythm. But his brow furrowed, and his gaze dropped slightly—unfocused, distant. The soft shuffle of footsteps behind him, the echo of Thorne's banter, Aiden's bright laughter, even Eddy's exasperated sputtering, they faded beneath the weight of another presence.

Not one beside him.

One within.

Vaelthar, he called inwardly. The name passed through his mind not like a question but a breath, shaped from something deeper than thought. You heard all of it. What do you think? Because to me… none of it makes sense.

The response didn't come right away. It never did.

The silence stretched thin, filled only by the soft glow of ambient light and the low murmur of voices trailing behind. Then—

It does not align with what we know.
Vaelthar's voice surfaced like stone rising from water, old, composed, and heavy with thought.
But there is truth beneath his confusion. He does not lie. He simply does not understand what he is.

Sentinel's jaw flexed, barely a movement, but there all the same. His fingers curled inward slightly at his side.

That's not exactly reassuring, he replied, the words low and edged in frustration. One moment in bed, the next in the middle of a disaster. How is that even possible?

Another pause followed. Longer this time. As if Vaelthar weighed more than just logic.

It isn't. Not by any means we know. But once he tells us everything from the start, it will begin to take shape. Even chaos has a pattern.

Sentinel exhaled through his nose, quiet and sharp. His shoulders stayed square, but his pace slowed a fraction. The flicker of tension behind his eyes didn't fade.

He doesn't even know how it happened, he said.

Vaelthar's voice returned, low and steady. Yet it happened. That alone makes him important. Not for what he understands… but for what he survived.

Sentinel didn't answer. He didn't need to.

But his eyes narrowed slightly as they followed Maris ahead, and his next step landed heavier than the last.

Behind him, the others hadn't noticed. Their voices floated like embers in the corridor.

"I still say you sound like a startled squirrel when you yell," Thorne was saying.

"I was not yelling," Eddy muttered.

"You kind of were," Aiden chimed in, laughter threading his words.

"Probably because I nearly tripped over the ancient stonework or whatever this place is made of."

"Correction—gently tripped."

"Correction—ambushed by flooring."

The rhythm of their voices rolled behind him.

But Sentinel's thoughts had already moved forward.

Because something was coming. He didn't know what shape it took yet.
But the pattern, he suspected, had already begun.

And Eddy was standing at the center of it.