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

Morning draped itself gently across the sky, spilling gold across the stone floor of the common room. Light crawled over the mosaic patterns like liquid warmth, catching on the edge of a worn rug, glinting briefly on the cold metal of a forgotten goblet.

The air held its breath, still and waiting.

Behind each door, silence ruled, until the sun crept deeper, brushing against slumber and stirring what dreams had tried to bury.

Aiden was curled tightly beneath a heap of blankets, his cheek pressed into the pillow's edge, breath slow but twitching with the beginnings of wakefulness.

Lyric lay in a tangle of silver-threaded sheets, her hair spread like ink in water, her fingers softly curled as if clutching the last fragments of a dream.

Alice rested on her back, perfectly still, arms folded over her stomach like a sleeping statue. Only the slow rise and fall of her chest betrayed life.

Thorne sprawled across his mattress diagonally, limbs at war with the bed's structure, one leg dangling off the side and a pillow flung across the room.

Elias lay with the precision of a sculpted form, hands clasped loosely on his stomach, eyes shut, but his breathing so faint it looked like he might be carved from stone.

And then, there was Eddy.

Tucked under the edge of a thick quilt, Eddy slept deeper than he ever had. No twitch, no flinch. His brow was smooth, lips slightly parted, and his hands unclenched at his sides. For once, no shadows crept beneath his eyes, no sudden jerks disturbed his rest. He looked young. Peaceful. Whole.

Until—

The screech shattered the stillness.

A mechanical wail tore through the air like a dying rooster screaming into a megaphone. Cogs whirred. Wings clattered. A synchronized clucking erupted in not one, but five different vocal ranges.

Aiden's eyes snapped open just in time for him to bolt upright—

CRACK!

He slammed his forehead against the low wooden beam above his bed.

"OW—what the—"

A growl rumbled from beneath his mattress. Deep. Guttural.

He froze mid-curl, pupils shrinking. Slowly, like peeling back the edge of a horror novel, he leaned over the bed.

Two bright yellow eyes blinked back at him.

Then—

BARK.

Once.

BARK.

Twice.

He screamed, flailed, kicked the blanket into the air and collapsed to the floor in a chaotic tangle of limbs.

"THERE'S A BEAST UNDER MY BED!"

A soft pop followed. A shimmer of glittering light. And just like that, nothing.

In her room, Lyric twisted in confusion as shadows danced madly above her.

Her ceiling had transformed into a swirling tempest of stars, constellations flickering in hyper-speed, nebulas blooming across the stone. Comets zipped inches above her head in dazzling arcs, trailing sparks of light.

Then a deep, celestial voice bellowed from nowhere, vibrating the air.

"AWAKEN, STARBORN!"

From somewhere behind a shelf, a disoriented orchestra screeched to life in dramatic chaos, violins arguing with trumpets, timpani rolling out of sync.

Lyric let out a muffled groan and yanked her pillow over her head.

"I'm being attacked by the cosmos!"

Next door, the stomp of synchronized boots reverberated through the walls.

Ghostly figures in translucent armor marched around Alice's bed, their boots never touching the floor. Their chanting was as steady as a war drum—

"Wake up. Wake up. Wake up."

Two shapes stirred in the shadows near the windowsill.

Ash and Noir, flapped upward in alarm. Ash cawed sharply, wings brushing against the curtain rod as he took to the air. Noir gave a startled squawk and circled the bed once before perching crookedly on the bedpost, feathers puffed and eyes gleaming.

Alice opened her eyes without hurry, expression untouched by surprise. She sat up, brushed a pale strand of hair behind her ear, and stared straight ahead.

"This is personal," she said flatly.

In Elias's room, golden light shimmered, illuminating suspended scrolls that unfurled mid-air with glowing script. The letters shifted and pulsed like the sun itself had inked them.

"RISE, SON OF NIGHTFALL. A NEW AGE BEGINS."

A harp somewhere in the corner began to play a slow, haunting tune, its strings plucked by unseen fingers.

Elias's eyelids fluttered once. He sighed. Lifted a hand lazily.

With a flick, the entire display dissolved into a puff of ash that scattered like dust motes.

He sat up, pushing the covers aside with the casual grace of someone completely unimpressed.

"...Ridiculous."

And then—

BOOM.

Thorne's room erupted.

Stuffed dragons burst from every surface, wings flapping furiously, plush jaws open in battle cries.

One red-eyed dragon hurled itself at his chest with a warlike squeak:

"ATTACK FORMATION!"

Thorne jerked upright just as a second plushie collided with his head. He screamed, flailed blindly, and toppled off the edge of the bed, slamming onto the floor with a yelp.

"WHAT THE—"

Dozens of tiny fabric wings beat the air, launching themselves at him like a squadron of overly zealous pillows.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Snarling, he tried to crawl away, but another squeaky dragon thumped against his shoulder.

"WHO SUMMONED A PLUSHIE PLAGUE?!"

The toys froze mid-air.

Wings halted. Buttons flickered.

Then, they combusted into a burst of shimmering glitter, raining down in slow, sparkling spirals across the scorched air and scattered bedding.

In the farthest room, the one left untouched by noise or illusion, Eddy remained still.

His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm. The soft curve of his fingers against the pillow. His jaw unclenched. For the first time in years, his dreams were not clawing to be remembered. No whispering shadows. No slipping echoes. Just… silence. Peace.

Then,

CLANG.

A spoon struck the floor beside his ear.

Eddy flinched but didn't wake.

CLINK. CLANG. CLINK.

The chorus built, metal on metal, as a swirl of kitchen utensils lifted into the air. Forks and ladles spun like dancers, spoons smashing into one another like cymbals in the hands of a chaotic conductor.

"ARISE, CHOSEN HUMAN!" shrieked a voice no one asked for. "THE HOUR IS NIGH!"

Eddy's eyes flew open. His hair stuck out in ten directions, his blanket had vanished entirely, and his arm was flung over his face like he'd lost a wrestling match with sleep.

He blinked, dazed, gaze fixed on the orbiting cutlery.

"…This isn't a dream, is it."

SLAM.

One door flew open.

SLAM. SLAM.

Two more joined it, and the chaos spilled outward.

Lyric stumbled into the common room, clutching her head, her silver hair luminous and wild under the morning light. She squinted at nothing in particular, scowling.

"Who replaced my pillow with a MOONROCK?!"

Aiden barreled out barefoot, one pant leg caught halfway up his calf, blanket trailing behind him like a defeated cape.

"There was a thing under my bed. It barked at me!"

Alice appeared, composed but unmistakably furious, boots still pacing in slow, magical circles at her feet. She watched them like a general betrayed by her own army.

"Someone's going to pay for violating my sleeping space."

Elias emerged last, footsteps quiet, expression unreadable, robe without a single wrinkle. His eyes scanned the common room once, measuring, dismissive.

"I would like to request a less theatrical dawn next time."

A thud echoed from behind the only unopened door.

Then a guttural snarl.

"I'm not coming out," Thorne's voice snarled through the wood. "But whoever did this, pray you vanish before I get dressed."

At the heart of the storm, Cassandra sat unbothered.

Perched on the common room's velvet couch, legs tucked beneath her, a cup of tea balanced on one hand, a book open in the other. A golden orb floated nearby, spinning gently, emitting a chime far too cheerful for the hour.

She didn't so much as glance up.

"Morning, darlings," she called, sugar-sweet. "I hope you all slept well."

One spoon gave up and dropped to the floor with a clatter.

For a moment, no one moved.

"CASSANDRA!" Lyric's voice cracked across the common room like a battle cry. "I knew that wasn't a real star map!"

"ARE YOU INSANE?!" Aiden's voice erupted from deeper within the hall. "I ALMOST DIED FROM HEART FAILURE, AND I'M NOT EVEN OLD!"

Alice's voice turned to ice. "Your actions have been noted. Retribution will be scheduled."

Behind his door, Thorne's fury still brewed. "I SWEAR ON EVERY SCALE IN EXISTENCE, IF I FIND ONE MORE STUFFED DRAGON IN MY BED—"

Elias didn't need to shout.

He stood where he had been the whole time, arms loosely folded, calm amidst the morning chaos. The golden light from the window lit one side of his face, casting long shadows across the stone beneath him.

His gaze shifted to Cassandra, flat and unimpressed.

"I trust you enjoyed yourself."

Only then did Cassandra finally mark her page and close the book with a gentle snap. She placed her teacup onto the floating tray, leaned back, and looked at the chaos gathering before her like a cat surveying pigeons.

She smiled faintly.

"You didn't wake up on time," she said simply, as if it were the most logical explanation in the world. "So I did it the witch way. Efficient. Memorable. No time wasted."

Lyric's jaw dropped. "You call cosmic assault a wake-up call?"

Aiden threw his arms in the air. "There was a barking creature under my bed! That's psychological warfare!"

Alice's eyes narrowed. "My space was invaded by chanting ghost soldiers."

Thorne's voice boomed from behind his still-closed door. "I was attacked by demonic plushies! I demand compensation!"

Cassandra arched a brow. "You're welcome. You're all up, aren't you?"

Elias folded his arms with regal calm. "There are gentler ways to achieve punctuality."

"Oh, but not nearly as fun," Cassandra said, smirking.

Muttering and groaning, they each retreated to their rooms to get dressed for training, some grumbling curses under their breath, others still brushing glitter out of their hair.

Eddy's door remained closed, but inside, he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor in faint disbelief. For the first time in years, he had slept without nightmares. No flickering memories. No restless turns. Just deep, uninterrupted rest.

"…How?"

His thoughts were interrupted by Cassandra's voice, sharp and amused, floating from the common room.

"Well well," she said aloud, eyes fixed on his door. "Looks like humans have a higher tolerance for chaos in their sleep than I expected. Do I need to escalate next time, Eddy?"

There was a pause.

Then his muffled voice called out, dry and slightly embarrassed, "I'm up! Just… give me a few minutes, please!"

Cassandra grinned, settling back on the couch as the orb beside her resumed its cheerful chime.

"Humans," she murmured, "so delightfully slow in the mornings."

A few minutes later, the common room stirred to life with motion and restless energy

Aiden jabbed the air with both fists, weaving around imaginary opponents. "I swear, today I'm landing a clean strike on someone's ribs. I don't care who. Volunteering starts now."

Thorne flopped onto the couch beside Cassandra, limbs sprawling like he'd just survived a battlefield. One boot dangled lazily over the armrest.

"Why are you acting like you've ever landed a punch?"

Aiden paused mid-swing and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you still whining every time I almost hit you?"

Thorne smirked, arms folded behind his head. "Almost being the keyword."

"That's confidence," Aiden shot back. "Spoken like someone who's never seen his own reflexes."

Near the fire, Alice pulled her second boot tight with a sharp tug, not even looking up. "You two arguing already? Training hasn't even started yet."

On the floor nearby, Lyric stretched slowly, twisting at the waist like a cat in sunlight. "Let them get it out now. Better than them trying to body-slam each other before warmups."

Thorne cracked his neck with a satisfying pop, grinning at Lyric without a hint of subtlety. "Don't worry, Lyric. I'll save the body-slamming for whoever squares off with me first."

Elias stood near the hearth, spine straight, the firelight gilding the edges of his tunic. He rolled his shoulders back and adjusted a cuff with deliberate calm.

"Try not to injure anyone before we even start. We don't have healers standing by."

Then Elias's eyes slid toward Cassandra, voice as dry as ever.
"But really... what's the point of waking Eddy up this early? He's not even part of combat."

Cassandra didn't miss a beat. "The point is discipline. Even observers need awareness. Besides…" —she glanced sideways at Eddy— "you'll learn faster if you're not dragging yourself in half-asleep."

But Eddy didn't answer.

He had just sunk into a chair, elbow resting on the armrest, one hand slack against his cheek. His half-buttoned shirt hung crooked. His hair looked like it had been at war with his pillow, and lost. But it wasn't exhaustion on his face. Not exactly.

He stared past the table, not really seeing it, brows lightly furrowed, lips parted just a fraction.

The others started to notice.

Lyric tilted her head, silver strands brushing her shoulder.
"Eddy?" she said gently.

He blinked like he'd forgotten they were all there. His eyes flicked to her, then to the rest watching him.

Thorne leaned forward, a brow raised.
"You look like you just stared down a wyrm and lost the staring contest."

Eddy exhaled slowly and rubbed the back of his neck. "No, it's just… something weird happened last night."

They were all listening now.

He glanced down at his hands as if they might explain it better than he could.
"I didn't dream."

Aiden frowned. "Okay? And?"

Eddy looked up, voice quieter this time. "I always dream. Every night. Broken flashes. Faces I didn't know. Voices I couldn't place. It's been like that for years. But last night… nothing. Just silence. Like my head finally… stopped spinning."

Alice's hands stilled over the buckles of her gloves. She didn't speak.

Cassandra set her book down gently.

"You told us you used to see them in your dreams," she said, gesturing faintly toward Elias, Thorne, Lyric, Alice, and Aiden. "Before you ever met them."

Eddy nodded once. "Yeah. I didn't understand it back then. Just these fragments. Like watching scenes from a story I wasn't part of."

Cassandra's tone stayed thoughtful, quiet.
"Maybe now that you've met them… your mind doesn't need to show you anymore."

He didn't reply at first.

But after a long pause, he nodded again, slowly, unsure.

"Maybe," he murmured. "I don't know."

The silence that followed wasn't empty, it clung to the air like a held breath.

Then Cassandra stood with a clap of her hands, her voice snapping them back to the present.
"Alright. Enough stalling. Let's move. We're already late, thanks to your slow morning rituals."

Lyric gave Eddy a lingering glance as she got up.
"Definitely not dreaming now," he muttered, rising to his feet.

Alice adjusted her sleeve. "Still might be a nightmare. We'll see after training."

Throne stretched his arms above his head. "Let's go get bruised together, team."

Aiden cracked his knuckles. "Just try not to cry when I knock you down."

As they filed into the hallway, boots thudding and training gear strapped in place, the usual teasing faded under a new tension.

They walked in step, growing quieter the closer they came to the wide archway.

And then,

They stopped.

Just before the training grounds.

Their breath hitched.

No one spoke.

Because what they saw in front of them… wasn't what they expected.