[Chp. 13.3] Ashes of Zephyria

The skies above Zephyria shimmered with gold and cerulean light, threads of cloud spun like silk between the floating islands. Great spires rose from the Sky Cities—towering structures of white stone and crystal, kept aloft by the continuous pressure of controlled wind magic. Bridges hung between them like strands of gossamer, swaying gently in the ever-present breeze. But on this day, the winds turned bitter. From beyond the highest cloudbank, a piercing gust screamed downward. The currents twisted unnaturally. Zephyria’s air mages across the kingdom shuddered. They felt it—a foreign pressure, something bending the natural flow. And then… he arrived. Torvax, member of the Ember Vow, descended with the storm itself. He hovered high above Zephyria’s capital spire, his body wrapped in a vortex of razor-edged wind. His armor was sleek and silver, built for flight, trimmed in black etchings that hummed with cursed enchantments. In his hand was a long spear—its blade shaped like a falcon’s wing, gleaming with volatile wind essence. The clouds warped around him. Every flap of his long cloak shredded the air. “Zephyria,” he muttered, his voice carried on the wind to every listening ear. “How far you’ve soared. Let’s see how far you fall.” From below, a gale surged upward. A luminous figure rose to meet him. Queen Aeronwyn, ruler of Zephyria, emerged like a blade of starlight. She wore robes woven from skyweave silk, embroidered with currents of wind magic. Her silver hair flowed like a banner behind her, her eyes glowing with pale blue light. Her wings—crafted of pure magic and reinforced air currents—flared wide as she approached. “You must be Torvax,” Aeronwyn said calmly, though the air itself trembled around her. “You seek to bring war to the skies?” “I bring correction,” Torvax replied. “Your kingdom is too high. Too arrogant. I will bring it down.” The queen’s expression hardened. “Then face Zephyria’s winds… and be broken.” CRACK! They launched toward each other in a flash of white and silver. The sky split. Their first clash sent a shockwave rippling across the kingdom. Wind magic collided in a cyclone that roared with the force of a hurricane. Birds were scattered. Floating bridges swayed violently. Towers cracked. Torvax spun his spear and lunged, his body twirling like a drill through the air. “SKY CLEAVER!” he roared. A slash of compressed air tore across the sky, fast enough to split a cloud formation in two. Aeronwyn dove beneath it, weaving between the currents, her hand raised. She snapped her fingers—“Gale Cage!” Dozens of air spirals trapped Torvax in a sudden vortex, sealing his movement for a moment mid-flight. But he grinned. “Clever,” he said, and twirled his spear. BOOM! The vortex imploded from the inside as Torvax unleashed an inverse pressure burst, scattering the cage in all directions. He rocketed upward, then twisted and dove toward her like a meteor. Aeronwyn raised her arms and summoned a wall of air infused with magnetic wind fields. Torvax hit it headfirst—and was repelled violently. But instead of recovering, he rode the momentum, flipping backward midair and using the recoil to strike from the flank. The Queen didn’t miss a beat. With a burst of air, she vanished from his path and reappeared behind him, extending her palm. “Zephyrian Pulse.” A concentrated blast of atmospheric pressure detonated at Torvax’s back, sending him spiraling downward. He spun his spear, slowing his descent, then flared his aura. The wind around him screamed—funnel clouds forming behind him like wings. “You’re strong,” he admitted. “But this sky won’t be yours much longer.” Aeronwyn’s gaze didn’t waver. “It was never mine. It belongs to the people.” She pointed at him, and suddenly—WHOOM!!! A tornado erupted beneath Torvax. “Tornado Trap!” He was swallowed by the spiraling winds. The trap locked around him like a prison, layers of counter-rotating pressure sealing him in place. He struck the walls with his spear, but they reformed faster than he could break them. “Impressive,” he muttered. Then he grinned. “But I’ve danced with storms long before your reign.” He raised his spear, pressing the tip to the swirling wall. “Cyclone Buster.” With a deafening BANG, Torvax detonated a compressed bomb of air outward, exploding the tornado into spiraling ribbons of wind. The force of it scattered cloud platforms and ripped wind gardens from their anchors. The battle resumed. Back and forth through the air they flew, exchanging hundreds of blows per second. Aeronwyn moved with grace and precision, gliding along invisible currents. Torvax struck like a hawk diving on prey, each thrust of his spear collapsing the space around it. Every impact carved new trails into the clouds. Wind blades shot in every direction, slicing towers and cracking floating stones. Shockwaves echoed down to the floating islands below, where citizens watched in awe and terror. Then—Torvax raised both hands. “Let’s raise the stakes.” His body spun rapidly, becoming a human hurricane. “Typhoon Spiral!” The surrounding atmosphere twisted violently. Pressure dropped across Zephyria. A storm cell formed directly above the central city, spinning faster and faster until the sky became a blur of gray. Aeronwyn soared upward, then spread her arms wide. “Then I shall calm the storm.” The sky behind her shimmered as she activated the Wind Crystal Matrix—a network of magical constructs placed throughout Zephyria’s skies. Pillars of light shot upward from the city below, stabilizing the sky layer by layer. Her aura surged. “Sovereign Ascent!” She burst upward with blinding speed, her body trailing a spiral of sparkling winds. As she passed through the layers of the Typhoon Spiral, she unraveled them—one by one—using aerodynamic precision. Torvax’s expression hardened as he watched his storm collapse in real time. “Impossible…” Aeronwyn reappeared above him, eyes narrowed. “You’re not the only one who commands the winds, Torvax.” He growled. “Then I’ll just tear the sky apart!” The clouds parted above the shattered spiral, and silence briefly fell over the skies. Torvax hovered in place, his cloak billowing in the aftermath of his collapsed typhoon. He breathed heavier now—not with exhaustion, but exhilaration. He hadn’t fought an opponent like this in years. He twirled his spear slowly, the blade carving invisible ripples through the air. “You’re a cut above the others, Queen Aeronwyn,” he admitted, wind swirling around him like a living entity. “It’s a shame I have to bring you down.” Aeronwyn rose higher into the open sky, her form shining like a beacon among stormclouds. “It is you who brought destruction to these skies, Torvax. Zephyria does not bow to chaos.” She extended her arm. From below, the wind responded. Runes engraved into the towers of the floating city pulsed with soft, blue light. Zephyria itself was waking up. Torvax noticed it immediately—his own pressure control was being subtly undermined. “…Tch. Sky-channeling enchantments?” Aeronwyn didn’t answer. Her magic pulsed outward—harmonizing with the kingdom itself. Gusts moved at her will. Jet streams wrapped her like a shield. Her body glided through the air effortlessly, as though the wind lifted her in reverence. “You think this domain makes you untouchable?” Torvax spat, raising his spear high. “Then I’ll level your domain entirely.” He stabbed the air. “Skystinger Lance!” A concentrated burst of compressed wind launched like a spear of glass. Aeronwyn dodged—but the lance changed direction mid-flight, chasing her like a guided missile. She flipped backward, conjuring a Mirror Wind Panel—a hexagonal barrier that reflected magical airflow. The lance struck the shield— CRACK! It shattered—but so did the panel. In the same instant, Torvax appeared behind her, spinning his spear like a cyclone. She raised a palm, catching the attack mid-swing. The clash detonated a burst of pressure that ripped a bridge in half below them, the resulting shockwave flattening nearby cloud gardens. “You’re fast,” she said. He grinned. “I’m just getting started.” He disappeared again—blinking through currents of compressed wind. Aeronwyn followed, the two warriors dancing through midair at supersonic speeds. Each clash was brief, explosive, elemental. Wind blades carved through cloud formations. Air pressure detonated in compressed spheres, bending the light itself. In a single moment, Torvax lunged with a Triple Spear Rush—thrusting three times so fast they seemed simultaneous. Aeronwyn parried with a Cyclonic Arc, redirecting his spear upward as she struck his ribs with a palm-strike that released a microburst. Torvax spiraled down, regaining control as he flared his aura and reversed gravity with an updraft column, soaring right back into the fight. Below, the people of Zephyria watched in awe as gods clashed in their skies. The winds themselves screamed. The sky darkened. Suddenly, Torvax snapped his fingers—and half a dozen Tornado Traps emerged across the battlefield. But these weren’t mere wind prisons. They were charged with atmospheric lightning. Each one spun like a vertical drill, generating a magnetic storm that warped nearby clouds. “Try navigating these,” he taunted. Aeronwyn soared upward, but the tornadoes moved with her—homing constructs. She narrowed her eyes, tracing the pattern of their rotation. Then—she vanished. Reappearing between the tornadoes, she clapped both hands together. “Windlock Burst.” The tornadoes froze mid-motion, then detonated outward in a cascade of air-shattering pulses. Torvax was caught in the edge of the shockwave, spun out of his path, and barely stabilized before being sliced by one of his own wind blades. He growled, pushing his magic outward. “Fine. Let’s try something a little more devastating.” He raised both hands to the sky. The pressure dropped rapidly. Clouds churned. Light dimmed. And then—a vortex formed above them, massive and slow, grinding the clouds into a spiral of dense atmosphere. “Atmos Vortex.” A technique forbidden in most realms. A massive compression zone that pulled all air, magic, and wind-based elements toward a singular gravitational point. Aeronwyn’s eyes widened. Even she had only read about this spell. “Torvax… You’ll destroy everything, even yourself!” He laughed. “Then let the sky choose who survives!” The vortex howled, pulling wind, structures, and debris toward it. Aeronwyn clenched her fists. “No. This is my kingdom. And I will protect it!” She ascended—directly into the eye of the storm—and unleashed her full power. “Aether Windform!” Her body glowed as she merged with the wind itself, becoming a silhouette of light and sky. She blurred into streaks, appearing around the vortex, pushing against its flow. She began weaving a counter-current—a spiral of pure wind energy fueled by the heart of Zephyria’s atmospheric core. Magic symbols lit up across the entire sky city. The towers responded. Wind converged to her like an ocean pulled by the moon. Her voice echoed through the winds: “Sky Sovereign’s Domain!” The vortex buckled—two opposite forces of nature clashing in the center of the sky. The air cracked like thunder. Shockwaves rippled out for miles. Torvax dug in his spear and roared, pouring every ounce of his power into stabilizing the Atmos Vortex. Aeronwyn continued spinning her domain spell—faster and faster—until the two cyclones reached equilibrium. And then— BOOM! A singularity of air collapsed in the center, discharging a titanic explosion of pressure. The sky turned white. Cloud islands were pushed miles apart. Towers cracked. Even far-off floating cities swayed from the backlash. And from the heart of that explosion—two figures fell from the sky, spinning from opposite directions. Aeronwyn hit a floating platform near the wind gardens, rolling once before rising to her feet, breathing hard. Torvax crashed into the side of a tower and bounced off it, catching himself mid-fall with a desperate updraft, his armor scorched. Both hovered again—wounded, winded, and covered in streaks of battle damage. They stared at each other, eyes blazing. And then—without a word—they charged. The sky was a battlefield of storms—cracked clouds boiling with intensity, winds slashing and howling like an endless roar. The echoes of the previous explosions still reverberated, but the air now hummed with an eerie, dangerous stillness. Both combatants, battered and on the edge of their limits, hovered high above the shattered landscape. Torvax, his wind-bladed spear glowing a fierce red, twirled it with a savage grace. His eyes, bloodshot and wide with determination, locked onto his opponent. “You’re still standing, Queen. Impressive,” he said, his voice tinged with admiration and disdain. “But this ends now.” Aeronwyn, breathing heavily but undeterred, wiped a streak of blood from the corner of her mouth. Her armor was singed and cracked, yet the ethereal glow of her kingdom pulsed beneath the wounds. Her eyes, sharp and resolute, never left Torvax. “This ends when I say it does,” she retorted, her voice calm despite the chaos around her. She extended her arms, pulling wind currents toward her like the breath of the earth itself. The magic from her kingdom responded, swirling into a vortex of bright blue energy. Torvax smirked, twirling his spear once more. “Let’s see if your sky can save you now.” He dashed forward, moving faster than the eye could track, the wind trailing behind him like a trail of fire. “Hurricane Spear!” He thrust his weapon forward, a barrage of razor-sharp wind blades darting toward Aeronwyn from every angle. Aeronwyn’s eyes flashed, and she folded her hands in front of her. “Tempest Wall!” A wall of compressed air materialized around her—dense and impenetrable. The wind blades collided with the wall, each one splintering into vapor as it struck. But Torvax was relentless, circling her like a predator. Before Aeronwyn could react, Torvax dissolved into the air, blending with the currents around him. The wind shifted. Aeronwyn’s eyes darted in every direction. Behind her—a spear of wind, tipped with lightning, shot out from a cloud bank, piercing through the space where she had just been. “Tornado Strike!” A violent vortex surged, propelling the spear deeper. Aeronwyn ducked and rolled, the spear grazing her side as she twisted in midair to avoid the full impact. The wind pressure crushed the cloud islands below, sending plumes of debris into the sky. Torvax’s laughter rang out, the sound dark and mocking. “What’s the matter? Can't keep up with your own domain?” Aeronwyn gritted her teeth, her body swaying in the chaotic currents. Her magic flared up again, a brilliant storm rising around her. “You underestimate Zephyria.” With a flash of her hand, she commanded the wind to coil and trap Torvax in a cyclone—a prison of unrelenting force. The vortex spun faster and faster, spiraling around the Ember Vow member like a giant hand of air. The pressure of the storm began to crush down on him, squeezing out every ounce of his power. Torvax grimaced, his body flexing as he fought the winds. His aura turned deep crimson, boiling with fury. The pressure—his limit—was now near breaking point. “You think you can contain me?!” Torvax roared. His body began to glow with a red-hot intensity as the air around him warped. A sudden explosive burst of energy shattered the cyclone, sending Aeronwyn flying backward into the clouds. Torvax stood in the center, untouched, his aura flaring wildly as lightning crackled around him. His power surged, matching the intensity of the storm. Aeronwyn righted herself quickly, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. “Impossible…” Torvax threw his head back, laughing wildly as he flexed his fists. “You’re the queen of this sky—yet you still bow to nature’s fury.” With one fluid motion, Torvax charged again—this time, faster, more furious. He hurled wind blades from every angle, sending them like jagged shards of pressure toward Aeronwyn. Each one was designed to maim, to pierce, to break. But Aeronwyn wasn’t done. Her eyes locked onto the oncoming barrage. With a cry, she summoned the core energy of Zephyria—the ancient wind essence that had powered the kingdom for centuries. “Aether Storm!” The sky above split open. Winds howled in response, forming a massive tornado of pure magical energy. It collided with the incoming blades, disintegrating them instantly. Torvax grinned as he dove into the heart of her storm, dispersing the winds around him like an explosion of raw power. “You think this can stop me?” The two forces collided once more, fury against fury. Their bodies twisted through the air in an unholy dance, magic meeting pressure, wind meeting storm. It was in that moment—a brief pause—that Aeronwyn saw it. She could feel the exhaustion. She could feel the pressure building, both inside her body and all around her. This fight—this battle for the kingdom—was reaching its breaking point. And so was Torvax. His attacks were relentless, but his breathing was ragged. The crimson aura was flickering. His movements—more reckless now—spoke of desperation. Both fighters knew—this couldn’t last forever. Torvax’s spear glowed brighter as he prepared for one final strike. His body was like a storm now—wild, uncontrollable. Aeronwyn, too, prepared for what was to come, summoning every ounce of magic she could. The winds exploded with force as both combatants collided for one final exchange. Sky against Storm. Aether against Atmos. Both figures swirled in a frenzy of wind and pressure. The final clash—a moment that would decide everything. In a sudden, blinding flash—everything stopped. For a brief second, there was no wind. No pressure. No sky or earth. Just the sound of their heavy breathing, echoing through the void. Aeronwyn’s vision blurred as she looked at Torvax, whose body hung suspended in midair. Both were on the verge of collapse. Neither of them could continue. It was a draw. A moment of silence. Aeronwyn’s voice was hoarse. “We’ve reached the end.” Torvax, battered and breathless, nodded with a feral grin. “You’ve earned your title, Queen Aeronwyn. I… didn’t expect to be defeated like this.” Both combatants fell from the sky at the same time—the wind and the atmosphere no longer responding to them. They collapsed onto the cracked stone below, unable to stand. And with that, the battle between Torvax and Queen Aeronwyn came to an end. Voragoth stared at the flickering projection. The image of Torvax, bloodied and unmoving beside the equally shattered Queen Aeronwyn, twisted his lips into a cold sneer. “He was supposed to crush her,” he said, his voice like obsidian grinding against steel. “Not share the ground like some noble martyr.” His fingers clenched slightly, and the sigils beneath his feet pulsed with crimson light. “A blade that cannot finish its strike… is no weapon of mine.” He turned away, his cloak trailing behind him like a wisp of smoke in dead air. The silence that followed was suffocating. “Dispose of the Sky Kingdom,” he said flatly. “And if Torvax still breathes… let him explain his failure to the ashes.” His eyes flicked to Azareth. “Now.” Azareth gave a nod. “With pleasure.” He raised his hand toward the heavens. One of his colossal meteors—dormant until now—lurched to life. Its surface, cracked and burning with the sigils of hellfire, began to move across the sky. As it tore through the upper atmosphere, smaller meteors in its path shattered and fell like burning rain, trailing destruction in their wake. Then, with a sharp downward thrust of Azareth’s arm, the meteor obeyed. It dropped. High above Zephyria, the skies split open. The winds howled violently in warning—but too late. Torvax stirred, eyes fluttering. He turned his head weakly… just in time to see a blazing inferno descending from the heavens, a scarlet star screaming toward them. Queen Aeronwyn’s eyes opened as well, barely. She felt the air tremble around her. “…No…” A second later, the meteor hit. The world shattered. A light brighter than the sun engulfed the floating islands. The explosion tore the sky apart, rupturing cloud and stone alike. A wall of flame devoured everything in its path. Wind cities turned to ash. Towers of skyglass melted in seconds. The land cracked and fell into the chasm below. There was no time for final words. No farewell. Torvax and Queen Aeronwyn were vaporized in an instant, their bodies erased by the force of the impact. From far below, in the blackened caldera, the fireball could be seen climbing into the sky like a blooming hellflower. The shockwave rumbled across the ruined landscape. Voragoth didn’t flinch. He watched, unmoved. “Zephyria is no more,” he said. Azareth lowered his hand, smiling faintly. “Now that’s how you erase a kingdom.” Draxon said nothing, his arms still crossed, eyes locked on the distant burning sky. And Zero… watched in silence. His fists clenched so tightly, his knuckles turned pale. Smoke filled the horizon. The sky was quiet. And the Kingdom of Wind was gone.