Page 3

CHAPTER 3

JASSYN

A s Serenna disappeared down the streets toward Vesryn, Jassyn exhaled sharply, releasing his grip on his Well. Instinct demanded that he cling to his power, but Vesryn needed every last scrap of Essence to endure the merciless coercion.

Impaled by too many arrows, Fenn lay deathly still beside his father. Kal. The name drifted through the fragments of memory Jassyn had gathered from Lykor’s mind. Even in ideal conditions, injuries this severe would stretch his skill. But with Vesryn siphoning his Essence away, mending was impossible.

Jassyn studied the faint green shimmer lingering beneath his skin—a trace of power borrowed from the jungle. Not nearly enough. Throat tightening under the pressure, his fingers hovered over Fenn’s wounds. His thoughts raced against the seconds ticking by, each of Fenn’s dying heartbeats a fading countdown.

But a familiar pulse thrummed through the earth, a deep reservoir that was his to draw on. Clusters of mushrooms and lichens climbed the cavern walls, glowing with veins of life. He knew taking this power must carry a price, but it was one he couldn’t yet measure—a cost he’d have to worry about later.

Drawing a steadying breath, Jassyn cast his awareness outward, attuning himself to the surrounding cavern. The world blurred then sharpened, the elements blazing. He sensed wind whispering through cracks in the keep, water flowing levels below, and fire churning deep within the volcano’s heart. But he steered his perception toward the vibrant hum of life.

Jassyn reached out, ripping energy from hanging moss, from every scrap of lichen, from every glowing spore, funneling their power directly into his grasp. The cavern plants flared with each surge, so bright it became blinding.

Kal stiffened, jerking his hands away from Fenn as ribbons of green light streaked toward them from every direction. Streamers webbed out from the volcano’s slopes, pulsing in hundreds of strands.

Determination drove Jassyn further. He bled the power from the roots twined through rock, their threads of life stretching taut, dimming as they snapped one by one.

A storm slammed into Jassyn, tearing through his veins before spilling over. The stolen vitality blazed beneath his skin, fractured light searing through every pore. Pressure built in his skull, a warning he forced himself to ignore as he channeled everything into healing.

A living conduit of light, Jassyn poured the energy into Fenn’s wounds. Gone was the familiar, delicate way of mending. This was a torrent, life raging through his hands, raw power glimmering against the cavern’s dark. Each burst pounded into Fenn, commanding his heart to beat and his lungs to draw in air.

Fenn’s chest jolted, a shuddering gasp tearing from his lips as his eyes snapped open, shining wildly. His torso lurched as he expelled a rattling breath, the quarrels embedded in his body bursting free, clattering against stone.

Through Fenn’s shredded tunic, Jassyn watched transfixed as torn muscle and skin knit together in rippling waves. Each pass of green light sealed wounds, leaving behind unmarked flesh—aside from the patchwork of old scars.

A sharp sting pricked Jassyn’s fingers before searing up his arms and lodging as a barbed ache in his chest. With Fenn’s injuries closed, power swelled inside him, trapped and raging without release.

His vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges as his heartbeat hammered against his ribs. The pressure compounded, straining against his bones, threatening to tear him apart. He’d taken too much from the earth—far more than had been required.

Ripping his hands from Fenn, Jassyn slammed his palms to the ground. Light exploded from his fingertips, spilling into the stone.

Glowing patches of lichen bloomed at his touch, channels of emerald racing outward, spreading across the cavern floor. A carpet of green erupted, pulsing with vibrant efflorescence. Plants sprouted at impossible speed, devouring the overflow of power.

Jassyn breathed again, the tension in his spine uncoiling. Every scrap of energy drained from him, leaving his fingers tingling with a fading warmth.

Fenn’s claw flew to his chest, pressing against his healed torso. His eyes met Jassyn’s, flickering with silent disbelief and unspoken gratitude.

Still dazed, Fenn blinked rapidly as he found his father at his side. Kal clasped his shoulder, steadying him as he sat up.

In a heartbeat, Fenn’s eyes sharpened, flaring like fire. His head snapped toward the winding streets where Serenna, Vesryn, and Lykor had vanished. “I need—I need to get to my she-elf,” he rasped, limbs flailing as he struggled to find his footing, scrambling with desperation to rise.

“Wait!” Jassyn called, snagging his arm. “I should assess you. To be certain—”

Fenn’s momentum hauled Jassyn to his feet. The warrior towered over him like a mountain. Unaccustomed to craning his neck up at anyone, Jassyn nearly stumbled back. Stars, he’s huge.

Fenn wobbled, his weight shifting unevenly. Jassyn’s stomach clenched, unsure whether healing with the earth would leave behind lingering consequences. But the warrior swiftly steadied, squaring his shoulders as he regained his balance—seemingly fine, for now.

Essence pounded through the keep. Kal rose and faced the distant hum of power where Vesryn clashed with Lykor.

“I should get to the prince,” Jassyn said.

Kal’s teeth dug into one of his lip rings as his gaze drifted back to Fenn. “I’ll help where I can,” he said, clasping his son’s forearm. “Lykor sent the reavers somewhere through portals. I doubt they’ll return. Stay safe.” With a nod, he vanished into a plume of smoke, reappearing closer to the sounds of battle. He barked out a string of orders, scattering a gathered crowd of wraith onlookers.

Fenn’s claw clamped down on Jassyn’s shoulder, the weight nearly buckling his knees. “I’m in your debt.” His crimson eyes veered toward the raging storm of Essence. “But I anticipate I may have to repay that later…”

Before Jassyn could respond, Fenn disappeared like his father, emerging from shadows at the mouth of an alley. He sliced a talon through the tattered remains of his tunic, leaving the shredded fabric behind.

Heartbeat quickening, Jassyn bolted after him, weaving through rubble-strewn streets. Every step jarred his bones, exhaustion tugging at his limbs from the power he’d unleashed, but he pushed forward until he reached the wreckage of a courtyard.

He skidded to a stop, boots splashing through shallow pools on the cracked cobblestones. The scene hit like a punch as he caught his breath, struggling to absorb the chaos.

Vesryn’s form splintered into five illusions, each darting around a drenched and snarling Lykor. Kal was already deep in the fray, his magic propelling the phantoms that kept Lykor whirling, disoriented. Essence crackled through the air as the real Vesryn—Jassyn sensed through the bond—detonated a swarm of shadows, restraining Lykor in a mantle of darkness.

Face locked in fierce concentration, Serenna stood off to the side, her arms trembling as she wrenched waves of Essence from Lykor’s chest. Fenn hovered beside her, one claw steady at her back, a protective stance braced against the maelstrom thrashing around them. Scores of wraith hovered at a distance, awe and fear wide in their eyes.

Vesryn’s emotions were a wild riot of fury and desperation as he seethed into Jassyn’s mind. Get over here and help me subdue this beast.

The sight of Lykor—hollow-eyed and reduced to a thrall by coercion—lanced straight through Jassyn. Memories he wanted to forget bled through his mind. Fragments of Lykor’s past surfaced—flashes of helplessness, the king’s magic twisting him into something unwilling.

Jassyn’s chest tightened, pity mingling with dread. He knew that horror too well. Not coercion, but the powerlessness—the weight of another’s desire overriding his own.

But he had to do it again—invade Lykor’s mind, seize the control he’d recently learned to wield. Just days ago, he’d turned compulsion against Elashor, stripping the general’s will without hesitation. He could use that same power to untangle the web of magic—to free Lykor from the king.

A snarl ripped through the air. Jassyn’s gaze snapped to Lykor as he tore through the illusions, locking onto one of the Vesryns as if it were real. With a vicious burst, rending exploded from his fist, shredding Kal’s magic.

Jassyn’s focus tunneled in on Lykor—lost, mindless, thrashing in the grip of coercion. He fought wildly, his shadows hacking against the bindings Vesryn struggled to wrap around him.

A glint of gold flashed at Lykor’s feet—the dagger the prince had pulled from Jassyn’s shoulder, now smeared with black blood. A failed attempt to tether him.

A flicker of doubt whirled in Jassyn’s mind as he prepared a telepathic strike. There was no other way to subdue Lykor—coercion was the only option. But shame crept in. Wielding the dark power was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

Sensing that the prince had ceased drawing on his Well, Jassyn swallowed his hesitation and sparked Essence. Telepathy coiled around his fingertips, a faint, colorless wisp shimmering like rising heat. Bracing himself, he sent his magic outward, slipping into Lykor’s mind as effortlessly as breathing.

Jassyn’s pulse thundered, but he didn’t falter as he burrowed through the murky layers, digging deep enough to manipulate. Seizing control, he wove a shroud over Lykor’s senses and veiled the prince from sight, shutting out anything that might feed the coercion’s wrath.

The effect was immediate. Lykor’s entire body went rigid, his chest shuddering in uneven gasps, eyes glassy and vacant.

The courtyard seemed to hold its breath, an eerie silence settling like heavy snow. Water dripped from every surface, pooling around Lykor, tracing thin rivulets down the spiked edges of his armor. One by one, the others released their magic.

Vesryn’s boots clipped against the stone as he stalked forward, scowling at Lykor’s immobilized form before he addressed Jassyn. “Get rid of that coercion,” he ordered. “No hesitation this time. Not like with Magister Thalaesyn. Do it now—bring my brother back.”

Jassyn pursed his lips, stalling as he lifted a hand. Moving closer, he channeled threads of mending toward Lykor, healing his wounds. A puncture in his shoulder from their encounter in the jungle. Another between his ribs, likely from the prince. “I need to be careful—”

“Untangle the fucking coercion and free my brother,” Vesryn snarled, his boiling fury threatening to erupt. “Get rid of this…this beast latched onto his mind.”

“Vesryn!” Serenna warned from behind them. “Give him room to work.”

Biting back his own argument, Jassyn clicked his teeth together. Resistance wasn’t an option, not while Vesryn’s glare burned with command. Lykor wasn’t some monster to be removed, but now wasn’t the time to press the prince. He couldn’t risk Vesryn attempting to rend through the coercion himself.

Jassyn’s hands trembled as they hovered inches from Lykor’s head, his gut churning with the bitter truth that he was using coercion as a leash. Lykor’s worst fear had become reality—the terror of being controlled, of feeling another’s will supplanting his own. But there was no other way, no gentler path to free him from this domination.

Jassyn swallowed hard, his exhale unsteady against the rising guilt. His only hope was that if Lykor even remembered, he would understand this was to help.

The world faded—the tense courtyard, Vesryn’s pacing, this foreign fortress, Serenna, Kal, and Fenn all dissolving. Jassyn drifted, swept away in a current, everything around him dimming until only Lykor’s vacant stare remained, the person within locked inside the prison of his mind.

A lattice of magic unfolded before Jassyn’s eyes, a complex web of knotted threads—the familiar architecture of coercion. Jassyn narrowed his focus, homing in as he readied to unravel each coil. But a faint flicker caught his eye, a glimmer in the distance. Driven by curiosity, Jassyn moved toward it, sensing something familiar.

An obsidian door materialized before him, its surface pulsing faintly, as though something alive slumbered within the stone. A chill raced down Jassyn’s spine, his instincts flaring in silent warning.

He’d passed through that door earlier in the evening when he entered Lykor’s mind, but he’d moved so quickly that most of the details had blurred. Whatever lay beyond the looming barrier was meant to stay hidden. And yet, the door seemed to draw him in—a silent lure he couldn’t ignore.

Jassyn’s heart pounded as he closed his eyes, gathering his will. Then, with a final push, he shoved the door open, slipping fully into the depths of Lykor’s mind.