The riders closed in swiftly, their shapes growing larger and more menacing as they thundered across the plains. Kairon could hear the clatter of their armor, the metallic clinks carried on the wind, mingling with the dull thud of hooves against the ground. His pulse was rapid now, matching the rhythm of the approaching sound. The golden light beneath his skin surged in response, flickering like a fire struggling to break free from its constraints.
Elia remained motionless beside him, her breathing slow and measured, her eyes fixed on the incoming threat. She didn't look at him, but Kairon could feel her intensity, her focus. Every muscle in her body was coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest provocation. She was waiting, calculating their next move with the precision of a seasoned fighter.
But Kairon wasn't a fighter. He had no strategy, no training to rely on. All he had was the power inside him—the power that terrified him as much as it gave him strength. He could feel it swirling within him, waiting to be unleashed. But every time he used it, it took something from him. Every time, he lost a little more control.
The riders were now close enough that he could make out their faces—grim, determined, and unmistakably hostile. There were five of them, each dressed in dark armor, their weapons gleaming in the harsh sunlight. The leader, a tall figure with a heavy scar across his cheek, raised a hand, signaling his men to slow. They were searching, scanning the plains for any sign of movement.
Kairon's throat tightened. They would find them. It was only a matter of time.
Elia turned to him, her voice barely audible but sharp. "Stay low. Don't move unless I tell you."
Kairon nodded, though fear had rooted him in place. His body trembled, and his grip on the rock beside him tightened as if it might anchor him to reality. But nothing felt real anymore—not the danger closing in, not the power inside him that threatened to consume him.
The riders slowed to a near stop, their horses snorting as they trotted through the rocky terrain. The leader dismounted, his boots hitting the ground with a heavy thud. His eyes swept over the landscape, calculating, searching.
"We know you're out here!" the leader shouted, his voice carrying easily over the plains. "There's no point in hiding. Come out, and we'll make your death quick."
Kairon's heart seized in his chest. His breath hitched, and the golden light inside him pulsed again, more insistent this time. It was as if the power itself could feel the imminent danger, urging him to use it, to let it take over. But he resisted. He didn't want to lose himself—not again.
Elia's hand moved toward her dagger, her fingers wrapping tightly around the hilt. She was ready to fight, ready to spring into action if necessary. But Kairon could see the tension in her jaw, the tightness in her posture. She knew they were outnumbered. She knew that if it came to a fight, the odds weren't in their favor.
The leader's men began to spread out, circling the rocks with deliberate, practiced movements. They were trained, disciplined. There was no panic in their eyes, no fear. They knew exactly what they were doing.
Kairon swallowed hard, his mouth dry. His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the plains. His body was shaking now, the golden light beneath his skin flaring, demanding to be released.
Elia shifted beside him, her voice barely a whisper. "Kairon," she said, her tone calm but urgent. "If we're going to make it out of this, you need to use your power."
Kairon's breath caught in his throat. "I can't," he whispered back, his voice trembling. "I don't know how to control it."
Elia's eyes flicked to his, her gaze intense. "You don't have a choice."
Kairon looked away, his hands shaking. He knew she was right. He could feel the power growing stronger, pushing against the boundaries of his control. But every time he had used it before, it had taken something from him—his strength, his focus, his very sense of self. He didn't want to lose himself again.
The leader's voice cut through the tension. "Last chance!" he shouted. "Come out, or we'll find you, and I promise it won't be pleasant."
Kairon's heart raced. The fear was overwhelming now, suffocating. He could feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to consume him.
Elia leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper. "Kairon, listen to me. I know you're scared. I know this power is dangerous. But right now, it's the only thing that can save us."
Kairon swallowed hard, his throat tight. He closed his eyes, trying to focus, trying to calm the storm raging inside him. The golden light flared again, hot and wild, but this time, he didn't push it away. He let it in. He let it flow through him, wrapping around him like a cloak of fire.
The power surged, filling every part of him. His skin tingled with energy, his veins burning with the intensity of it. He could feel the light in his hands, ready to be unleashed.
The leader of the riders stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the rocks. He was close now, too close.
Kairon opened his eyes, the golden light pulsing in his vision. His breath came fast and shallow, but his mind was clear. He knew what he had to do.
Without another word, he stood.
The leader's eyes widened in surprise as Kairon stepped out from behind the rocks, his body glowing with the golden light. The men around him froze, their weapons raised but uncertain. They had been expecting a fight, but not this.
Kairon didn't give them a chance to react.
The golden light surged from his hands, a blinding wave of energy that exploded outward, catching the leader and his men in its path. The force of it sent them flying backward, their bodies crashing into the ground with a sickening thud.
Kairon stood there, his chest heaving, the power still crackling around him. The riders lay scattered on the ground, stunned and motionless. The leader struggled to his feet, his face twisted in anger and pain, but he didn't move toward Kairon.
Elia appeared at Kairon's side, her dagger in hand, ready to finish the fight if necessary. But the riders were broken, defeated.
The leader glared at Kairon, his eyes burning with fury. "This isn't over," he spat. "You'll regret this."
Kairon didn't respond. He was still shaking, the power still pulsing in his veins. He didn't know how long he could hold onto it.
The leader mounted his horse, his men slowly following suit. They retreated, their eyes never leaving Kairon, as if they were afraid he might unleash the power again.
When they were gone, Kairon let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The golden light faded, and with it, his strength. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, his body trembling with exhaustion.
Elia knelt beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You did it," she said quietly. "You controlled it."
Kairon shook his head, his voice weak. "No. I barely held on."
Elia's grip tightened. "But you did. And that's what matters."
Kairon closed his eyes, his body heavy with fatigue. The power was quiet now, resting, but he knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.
And next time, he might not be able to control it at all.