Night had fallen again over Dorothrel Academy, but for Arin and Lireya, sleep was a luxury they could not afford. In the dungeons below the Grand Atrium, they stood before an iron-grated cell where the real Kalem—exhausted but unbroken—hung limply against the wall. The true mountain hunter's gray-green eyes brightened at the sight of his friends.
"You found me," Kalem rasped, voice hoarse from confinement.
Lireya pressed her palm to the warded lock, murmuring a soft wind-chant as Arin reinforced her magic with a surge of earth. The bolt clicked, and the gate swung open. Kalem sagged into Arin's arms.
"Drayven intervened," Lireya whispered. "He recognized the impostor—restored you here."
Kalem nodded, easing himself upright. "Tavian's plot was deeper than mere sabotage. They planned to steal the fragment and the Codex at the Twin Eclipse—three nights from now—when the Academy's wards align with the moon."
Arin's heart pounded. "Then we have exactly seventy-two hours to complete the First Binding ritual at the Valley of Whispering Pines."
They moved swiftly through the silent corridors, Codex and fragment secured in Lireya's pack. In the map-lit quiet of Drayven's study, the three laid out the reunited ritual pages on the Headmaster's desk.
"The Codex of the First Binding is clear," Arin said, tracing the interwoven glyphs with a finger. "Earth to anchor, wind to seal, and the fragment as the keystone. But the ritual requires precise timing—at the moment the Twin Eclipse casts its shadow across the seal stones."
Lireya tapped the Codex's margin notes. "Here: 'When two moons cross and one is eclipsed, the currents flow through the ancient veins, binding beast to stone.' We must be at the heart of the valley at midnight of the Eclipse's first night."
Kalem pulled a folded parchment from his coat—a chart of mountain passes marked with safe camps and hidden watchtowers. "These are our waypoints. We can move at dawn, fast as the winds allow, and shelter at the old Sentinel's Rest each evening. We'll reach the valley by the second day's nightfall, giving us hours to prepare."
Outside the study window, lightning forked across the sky, followed by a low, resonant roar that vibrated through the tower's stones. All three exchanged grim looks. The wyrm was stirring—and its awakening would only accelerate as the Eclipse approached.
Drayven's voice spoke from the doorway. "I've arranged elemental wards to delay the wyrm's passage through its lair, but they will only hold until the Eclipse begins. After that, the seal's strength rests solely on your ritual."
Arin rose, resolve hardening in his chest. "We leave at first light."
—
By sunrise, the trio had slipped beyond the academy gates, their boots crunching over frost-kissed grass. The world beyond was silent but for the moan of distant winds. They followed the ridge trail to Sentinel's Rest—a crumbling outpost where wind-sculpted statues stood watch over valleys below.
That evening, under a sky brushed with purple dusk, Kalem trained their campsite wards—earth barriers half-buried under leaf litter, wind sigils carved into standing stones—to mask them from prying eyes. Lireya studied the Codex by lantern light, committing the incantations to memory. Arin rested his hand on the fragment, feeling its pulse sync with his own heartbeat.
A second roar split the air as the moon rose pale over the pines. The guardian runes flickered in the forest's edge—omens of the wyrm's restless power.
"We're close," Kalem murmured. "Tomorrow we cross into the valley's rim."
Arin nodded, gazing at the twin moons above—the smaller one drifting across its larger sister in a slow celestial embrace. "By midnight tomorrow, we must be at the Seal Stones. The Eclipse gives us our chance."
—
The next day's march was swift but fraught. Twisting trails gave way to rocky clefts chilled by snowmelt, and ancient trees arched overhead like cathedral ceilings. Three evenings hence, they reached the valley rim: a ring of monolithic stones etched with the First Binding spiral, half-buried in mist.
As dusk fell on the eve of the Twin Eclipse, they made camp within the circle. At Arin's command, earth currents grew the stones from the earth, stabilizing them; Lireya called the wind to swirl between them, stirring the mist into a silver dance. Kalem stood sentinel, bow at the ready.
Above, the smaller moon slid further over its companion, the sky growing dim as starlight seeped through the eclipse's shadow. Arin extracted the fragment and placed it on the central stone, its black-and-white veins matching the spiral's grooves. Lireya and Arin knelt on opposite sides, hands raised.
They began the invocations together—their voices weaving earth and wind, pulse to pulse with the fragment. As the eclipse reached its zenith, the spiral monoliths glowed with ancient light. A tremor rippled through the valley floor, and the distant cry of the wyrm rose in a great, furious bellow.
The runes blazed, collapse and awakening trembling on the same edge. Arin held the Codex open in one hand, reciting the final binding words: "By stone and storm, by root and gale, I seal thee now, wyrm of gale!"
A surge of magic roared upward, and the fragment's light shot into the sky like a beacon. The wyrm's cry cut off abruptly as the valley's seal snapped closed—earth swallowing air, wind stilled against stone.
Silence followed—a silence so deep it rang in their ears. Then the stones fell quiet, the mist receded, and the two moons drifted apart once more.
Arin sank to his knees, breath ragged, as Lireya pressed a hand to his shoulder. Kalem exhaled, lowering his bow.
"The seal holds," Lireya whispered, awe trembling in her voice. "You did it."
Arin lifted the fragment, its heartbeat slow and steady. "We did it."
Above them, the sky cleared—stars shining as witnesses to their triumph. The Gathering Storm had passed, and with the wyrm's power bound once more, Arin's journey through fire and wind reached its penultimate height.