[Image: A jagged hill under a pale dawn, golden light streaking a sky of soft gray and hints of blue. Tobal’s scarred face glows with quiet resolve under a worn blue militia coat, medallion pulsing gold in his grip. Fiona’s sky blue gown sways on her lean frame, chestnut hair loose, golden threads humming soft. Rafe’s wiry frame leans sharp in a patched cloak of faded green and gray, grin sly. Becca’s red hair flares under a cloak of deep brown and russet, eyes fierce. Lucus stands broad in a gray leather vest, axe steady, jaw tight. Carla’s slim form shifts in a dark green cloak, fingers tracing a rune, gaze sharp. Cal’s tangled brown hair catches the wind under a patched hood, stance shaky. Valentine’s shaggy gray-brown fur ripples as he sniffs the air—vivid, tense, with the distant hiss of scales]

  Tobal stood atop the jagged hill, boots crunching brittle grass, the pale dawn casting golden streaks across a sky of soft gray and hints of blue. The air bit cold—sharp with frost and the faint tang of iron—his blue militia coat, torn at the hem, swaying stiff on his broad frame. His scarred face glowed with quiet resolve, short dark hair damp with mist, the medallion in his hand pulsing a soft gold, its warmth threading through his calloused palm, stirring a flicker of hunger beneath his steady breath.

  Fiona stood close, her sky blue gown swaying on her lean frame, the hem brushing frost-tipped grass. Her chestnut hair hung loose, catching the light, golden threads humming soft in her steady fingers—her breath fogged faint, laced with the chill, her lithe form taut with a quiet spark, eyes tracing the horizon’s edge. Rafe leaned sharp nearby, his wiry frame coiled in a patched cloak of faded green and gray, wool rough against his lean shoulders—his sly grin flickered, knife twirling in his hand, dawn glinting off the blade. Becca flanked him, her cloak of deep brown and russet snapping in the wind, red hair flaring wild—her fierce eyes burned, her sturdy curves firm with restless fire, she breathed a low hiss of defiance.

  Lucus loomed solid, his broad frame steady in a gray leather vest, axe gripped tight, its edge catching the light—his jaw clenched, dark eyes scanning the haze, breath steady with a grunt of readiness. Carla shifted beside him, her slim form wrapped in a dark green cloak, fingers tracing a rune in the air—her sharp gaze darted, short black hair tucked under her hood, a faint hum of energy threading her quiet stance. Cal wavered a step back, his tangled brown hair whipping under a patched hood, wiry frame shaky—his breath rasped, eyes wide, a flicker of dread cutting his pale face. Valentine paced ahead, his shaggy gray-brown fur rippling, coarse and damp as he sniffed the air—his growl rumbled low, ears twitching at the distant hiss of scales.

  The hill stretched raw—brittle grass crunched underfoot, the wind carrying a faint tremor of earth, a whisper of rifts unseen. Tobal shifted, his chest tightening as a shadow flickered far off—brief, sharp—blending with the dawn’s haze. The air hung cold—frost-scented, tense—light spilling soft over the jagged slope. He turned—eyes sweeping the Knights—his voice a low rasp, rough against the stillness. “They’re near.” The medallion pulsed—gold light spilling soft—his scarred hand steadied, a thread of resolve flaring in his pulse. A stone clattered below—a bird’s cry pierced the hush—his breath caught.

  Rafe tilted his head, cloak tugging in the wind, his sly grin thinning as his breath fogged faint. “Them? Already?” He flipped his knife—a distant hiss answered—Valentine’s fur bristled, his growl sharpening as he pawed the ground. Rafe’s laugh rasped—dry, quick—his lean frame easing as the wind carried a low scrape.

  Fiona stepped forward, gown snagging on a thorn, threads weaving a soft arc of gold that shivered in the dawn. “They’ve breached,” she said—voice low, clear—her gaze cutting to Rafe, fingers curling tight, the cold biting her knuckles. Her chestnut hair shifted, strands catching the mist, and her eyes met Tobal’s—a shared fire threading alive, her lean grace sparking a quiet ache. A scale scraped below—faint, close—her jaw tightened, breath steady with focus.

  Becca crossed her arms, red hair whipping under her russet hood, her voice sharp but warm as the wind tugged her cloak. “Breached? Then we hit them.” She kicked a rock—her fierce eyes flashed—glancing from Fiona to Lucus, fire flickering in her gaze, her sturdy form coiled with restless heat. A low hiss rose—near, jagged—her breath steadied, the chill prickling her lips.

  Lucus hefted his axe, gray vest creaking, his broad shoulders squaring as his breath huffed low. “Let’s crush ‘em,” he growled—voice deep, rough—his dark eyes narrowing, axe glinting as he shifted, a faint smirk tugging his lips. The ground trembled—subtle, sharp—his grip tightened, boots grinding the frost.

  Carla’s rune flared, a faint gold pulse in her palm, her slim frame still as her sharp gaze swept the haze. “It’s a rift,” she murmured—voice soft, edged—her fingers tracing the air, the hum rising, her dark green cloak swaying. A shadow loomed—brief, reptilian—her breath hitched, eyes narrowing with a flicker of dread.

  Cal stumbled back, hood slipping, his wiry frame trembling as his breath rasped fast. “Rift? Here?” His voice cracked—high, shaky—his tangled brown hair catching the wind, hands fumbling at his belt. A hiss curled closer—his eyes darted, a low whimper escaping as he froze.

  Tobal sank to one knee—coat brushing the brittle grass—his free hand settling on Valentine’s flank, the dog’s coarse fur warm as he pressed close, growling low. “Hold steady,” he said—gruff, low—his scarred face tilting toward Cal, eyes dark with a fire that burned deep, his broad build radiating quiet strength. The medallion’s glow deepened—its hum threading his voice—his chest flared, a fierce resolve he couldn’t quell. A breeze stirred the grass—light flickered—Cal’s stance steadied, his breath slowing as the sound sharpened.

  Valentine lunged forward—grass parted—a sharp bark split the air as he snapped at the haze, fur bristling. Tobal rose, medallion steady, his scarred face hardening—something cold twisted in his gut, a low growl of readiness beneath it. “They’re through!” Rafe called—half a laugh—his knife spinning as he stepped forward, wiry frame taut with a flicker of thrill. A reptilian hiss roared—close, alive—Fiona’s threads pulsed, gold threading boldly—her voice cut the wind. “Close it!” Tobal’s gaze struck Rafe—hard, fierce—his growl a rasp. “Sense the rift.” He stepped toward the hill’s edge—boots crunching—the wind curling tight, thick with frost and scales.

  The dawn thickened—gold spilled over the hill, grass swaying in the breeze, the earth’s pulse trembling beneath their feet. A reptilian claw scraped—near, jagged—Lucus swung his axe, a grunt of effort as the blade bit air. Tobal’s hand clamped Cal’s shoulder—medallion blazing soft—his grip firm, though his own pulse raced, a hiss spiking his ears, his broad chest tight with a flicker of thrill. “Breathe,” he murmured—voice low, rough—frost sharp in his throat. Cal’s chest heaved—his eyes squeezed shut—then opened, a faint spark of grit catching as the hiss grew louder.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Fiona’s threads wove wider—gold flickering like a breath—her gaze slid to Becca, the dawn’s chill brushing her lean face. “Where’s the rift?” Becca asked—voice sharp—her edge honed, her sturdy form trembling with fire and focus. A scale glinted below—close, slick—Fiona’s lips curved, just a breath—chestnut hair lifting in the wind. “Beneath us.” Rafe’s laugh rang—dry, warm—his knife stilling as he crouched, wiry frame alive with a reckless spark. Tobal nodded—medallion pulsing—wind curling low, a reptilian snarl rising near, a whisper of what’s next. The Knights stood—scarred, steady—dawn breaking over the hill.

  [Image: A frost-rimed ravine under a dawn sky streaked with gold and fading gray, jagged rocks casting long shadows. Tobal’s scarred face hardens under a worn blue militia coat, medallion blazing gold in his blood-streaked grip. Fiona’s sky blue gown flutters on her lean frame, chestnut hair tangled, golden threads pulsing vivid against the mist. Rafe’s wiry frame twists in a patched cloak of faded green and gray, knife flashing, grin wild. Becca’s red hair blazes under a cloak of deep brown and russet, eyes fierce with fire. Lucus looms broad in a gray leather vest, axe raised, blood dripping from a gash on his arm. Carla’s slim form crouches in a dark green cloak, rune flaring gold, gaze sharp. Cal’s tangled brown hair whips under a patched hood, hands trembling, face pale. Valentine’s shaggy gray-brown fur bristles as he snarls at a reptilian shadow—tense, raw, with the clash of steel and scales ringing out]

  Tobal braced at the ravine’s edge, boots grinding frost-rimed stone, the dawn sky streaking gold and fading gray over jagged rocks. The air stung—cold with frost and the copper tang of blood—his blue militia coat, torn and damp, clinging to his broad frame. His scarred face hardened, short dark hair slick with sweat and mist, the medallion blazing gold in his blood-streaked grip, its pulse a fierce thread through his calloused palm, igniting a raw hunger in his chest.

  Fiona stood firm, her sky blue gown fluttering on her lean frame, the hem snagging on sharp stone. Her chestnut hair tangled wild, catching the light, golden threads pulsing vivid against the mist—her breath rasped quick, laced with frost and strain, her lithe form coiled with a fierce spark, eyes locked on the rift’s shimmer below. Rafe twisted nearby, his wiry frame taut in a patched cloak of faded green and gray, wool frayed at the edges—his wild grin flashed, knife spinning fast, dawn glinting off the blood-smeared blade. Becca surged beside him, her cloak of deep brown and russet snapping in the wind, red hair blazing like fire—her fierce eyes burned, her sturdy curves firm with unleashed fury, she breathed a sharp growl of defiance.

  Lucus loomed broad, his gray leather vest creaking as he raised his axe, blood dripping from a gash on his thick arm—his jaw tightened, dark eyes blazing, breath heaving with a low snarl of pain and grit. Carla crouched low, her slim form wrapped in a dark green cloak, rune flaring a sharp gold in her palm—her sharp gaze cut through the haze, short black hair plastered with sweat under her hood, a tense hum threading her steady hands. Cal staggered back, his tangled brown hair whipping under a patched hood, wiry frame trembling—his breath hitched fast, hands shaking as he clutched a dagger, face pale with a sheen of terror. Valentine snarled ahead, his shaggy gray-brown fur bristling, coarse and matted as he lunged at a reptilian shadow—his bark cracked the air, teeth bared, the clash of steel and scales ringing out.

  The ravine shuddered—frost cracked underfoot, the wind howling with a tremor of rift energy, shadows of scales slithering in the mist. Tobal shifted, his chest heaving as a reptilian claw slashed air—close, jagged—blood flecking his coat. The air churned cold—frost and blood thick—dawn spilling raw over the rocks. He turned—eyes sweeping the Knights—his voice a rough growl, cutting the chaos. “They’re breaking through!” The medallion flared—gold light spilling bold—his scarred hand gripped tight, a fierce resolve threading his pulse. A rock shattered below—a reptilian snarl roared—his breath sharpened.

  Rafe ducked a claw, cloak tearing, his wild grin widening as his breath puffed fast. “More fun!” He slashed his knife—a scale clattered—Valentine’s snarl answered, his fur matted with blood as he snapped at a tail. Rafe’s laugh barked—sharp, reckless—his lean frame weaving through the fray as a hiss curled near.

  Fiona spun, gown ripping at the seam, threads weaving a vivid arc of gold that lashed the mist. “It’s widening!” she shouted—voice clear, fierce—her gaze striking Rafe, fingers trembling with power, the cold searing her knuckles. Her chestnut hair whipped, strands sticking to her sweat-damp face, and her eyes met Tobal’s—a shared fire threading alive, her lean grace sparking a desperate ache. A reptilian eye glinted—close, red—her jaw clenched, breath hitching with focus.

  Becca charged, red hair blazing under her russet hood, her voice a roar as the wind tore her cloak. “Close it now!” She slammed a rock at a claw—her fierce eyes flashed—glancing from Fiona to Lucus, fury flickering in her gaze, her sturdy form surging with relentless heat. A scale slashed air—near, slick—her breath growled, frost biting her lips.

  Lucus swung his axe, gray vest stained red, his broad shoulders heaving as blood dripped from his arm. “Die, you bastards!” he bellowed—voice raw, deep—his dark eyes wild, axe biting scale with a crunch, his gash weeping as he roared. The ground shook—sharp, violent—his grip faltered, then steadied, boots slipping on frost.

  Carla’s rune blazed, gold flaring bright in her palm, her slim frame low as her sharp gaze pierced the mist. “It’s neon!” she gasped—voice tight, urgent—her fingers tracing frantic arcs, the hum spiking, her dark green cloak flapping. A reptilian jaw snapped—close, wet—her breath caught, eyes widening with a flicker of panic.

  Cal stumbled, hood falling back, his wiry frame shaking as his dagger clattered to the stone. “Neon? We’re dead!” His voice broke—high, frantic—his tangled brown hair plastered with mist, hands clawing at the ground. A claw swiped—his scream choked—his eyes darted, terror locking his limbs.

  Tobal lunged—coat dragging on jagged rock—his free hand yanking Cal back, the dog’s snarls echoing as Valentine bit a scaled flank. “Fight or die!” he roared—gruff, fierce—his scarred face twisting toward Cal, eyes dark with a fire that burned deep, his broad build a wall of raw strength. The medallion’s glow surged—its hum threading his shout—his chest heaved, a fierce resolve blazing through him. A reptilian tail lashed—frost shattered—Cal’s breath hitched, his hands steadying as the chaos roared.

  Valentine leapt—stone cracked—a sharp bark split the ravine as he sank teeth into scale, fur slick with blood. Tobal rose, medallion blazing, his scarred face set—something raw churned in his gut, a growl of defiance beneath it. “Pin ‘em!” Rafe yelled—half a laugh—his knife flashing as he darted forward, wiry frame a blur of reckless thrill. A reptilian screech tore through—close, alive—Fiona’s threads flared, gold threading boldly—her voice sliced the wind. “Seal it!” Tobal’s gaze struck Rafe—hard, fierce—his growl a rasp. “Find the rift!” He surged toward the ravine’s heart—boots slipping—the wind howling with frost and blood.

  The light flared—gold clashed with shadow, rocks trembling in the breeze, the rift’s pulse shuddering beneath their feet. A reptilian claw raked stone—near, vicious—Lucus roared, axe swinging wild, blood spraying as he staggered. Tobal’s hand gripped Cal’s arm—medallion blazing bold—his hold iron, though his own pulse thundered, a snarl spiking his ears, his broad chest tight with a flicker of dread. “Move!” he barked—voice low, rough—frost and blood sharp in his throat. Cal’s chest heaved—his eyes flicked—then hardened, a faint spark of fight catching as the rift’s hum swelled.

  Fiona’s threads lashed out—gold flickering like lightning—her gaze cut to Becca, the dawn’s cold searing her lean face. “It’s here!” Becca shouted—voice fierce—her edge alive, her sturdy form trembling with fire and grit. A reptilian maw loomed—close, slick—Fiona’s fingers bled gold—chestnut hair whipping in the wind. “Hold it!” Rafe’s laugh cracked—wild, sharp—his knife slashing as he leapt, wiry frame alive with a desperate spark. Tobal nodded—medallion pulsing—wind howling low, a reptilian roar rising near, a whisper of what’s next. The Knights clashed—scarred, fierce—dawn breaking over the ravine.