His head throbbed harder now, and he stumbled, reaching out for something, anything, to steady himself. But the dark magic held him firmly in place, and the figures' chanting only grew louder, their power closing in around him like a vice.
The power was overwhelming, a storm raging within Eryndor's small body. He clenched his fists, his young face twisted in discomfort as he tried to resist the crushing force bearing down on him. The chanting continued, filling the air with an oppressive rhythm that vibrated through his very core. His breath came in short, sharp gasps before he shut his eyes, trying desperately to block it all out.
One of the hooded figures paused in their chanting and spoke, their voice laced with satisfaction. "He's falling under our command," the figure remarked, watching intently as Eryndor's head bowed and his eyes remained closed.
Another figure chuckled darkly. "I never thought it would be this easy," they sneered, stepping closer to the boy, their dark robes billowing around them. But as they continued to gloat, their voice faltered, and they stopped in their tracks. The air grew heavier, charged with an unexplainable energy. A strange hum reverberated through the space, making the hairs on their necks stand on end.
"What is happening?" one of them hissed, their voice tinged with fear. They exchanged uneasy glances, their confident demeanor beginning to crack.
"It's the boy!" another shouted, pointing at Eryndor.
They all turned to him, their movements hesitant as the space around him seemed to distort. To their horror, Eryndor's body began to rise, floating several feet off the ground. His small frame was engulfed in a crackling aura of energy, arcs of light sparking across his skin like currents of lightning. His hair flowed upwards as though caught in a storm, and the air around him seemed to ripple with sheer power.
One of the figures stumbled backward. "This isn't possible," they muttered, their voice trembling.
Then, with a sudden, violent burst, Eryndor's eyes snapped open. The once silver-gray irises were gone, replaced by a striking oceanic blue. His eyes swirled with an unnatural motion, resembling a deep, churning whirlpool. The glow from his gaze was almost blinding, and the aura emanating from him became so suffocating that the figures instinctively retreated further, unable to withstand its intensity.
"Attack!" the one who seemed to be their leader shouted, their voice cutting through the chaos. The others hesitated for only a moment before obeying, hurling bolts of dark magic toward the boy.
The attacks, charged with black energy, streaked through the air with deadly precision—but as they struck Eryndor, they dissipated instantly, bouncing off an invisible barrier surrounding him.
"It's not working!" one of them screamed, panic setting in.
The leader snarled in frustration, commanding, "More power! Now!"
They pooled their energy, sending wave after wave of attacks, but none could penetrate the shield of energy around the boy. Suddenly, a surge of power erupted from Eryndor, a shockwave so powerful it sent the hooded figures flying across the room. They hit the ground with heavy thuds, their groans of pain echoing in the air.
Eryndor's body descended slightly but remained aloft, his head tilting as his gaze locked onto the trembling figures. When he spoke, his voice was unlike anything they had ever heard, deep and resonant, layered with hundreds of voices, each one echoing in perfect harmony. It was the sound of a thunderstorm, the roar of a raging sea, and the crackle of fire all at once.
"HOW DARE YOU MORTALS TRY TO HARM ME!!," the voice boomed, shaking the very foundations of the room. The words reverberated through their bodies, each syllable carrying an undeniable weight that crushed their resolve.
The figures cowered, their earlier arrogance replaced by sheer terror. The aura around Eryndor intensified, the energy swirling around him as his glowing, whirlpool-like eyes bore into their souls.
Eryndor hovered in the air, his aura blazing, but the hooded figures were not done yet. They gathered their strength, and their leader raised a hand, barking an order. "Form the Trinity Circle! Now!"
The figures moved in sync, their hands weaving intricate patterns in the air, each gesture leaving trails of glowing energy. Their voices united in a guttural chant as the black ash beneath them began to swirl, forming a vortex of power. The leader extended their hand, and a whip-like tendril of shadow lashed toward Eryndor.
Eryndor dodged it with ease, his movements fluid as he floated to the side, sending arcs of electric energy streaking toward the figures. One struck a member square in the chest, sending them crashing to the ground. Another tendril shot toward him, and this time he grabbed it mid-air, yanking the figure who conjured it off their feet and slamming them into the wall.
He landed on the ground, his bare feet crunching the ash as he advanced. The remaining figures rushed at him, their hands glowing with dark energy as they formed blades, spears, and shields of shadow. The leader lunged first, their shadow blade arcing down toward Eryndor.
Eryndor blocked with a burst of energy, the collision sending sparks flying. He pivoted, delivering a swift kick to their chest, sending them sprawling. Another figure came at him with twin daggers, their movements quick and precise. Eryndor ducked under a swipe, countering with an uppercut that sent the attacker reeling.
The combat intensified. One figure hurled bolts of shadow that Eryndor dodged with agile rolls and flips. Another charged him with a spear, but he grabbed the weapon mid-thrust, breaking it in half and using the shattered end to strike the attacker in the stomach. They crumpled, gasping for air.
Suddenly, one of the figures behind him unleashed a wave of force that sent Eryndor skidding across the ground. He growled, rising to his feet just as another charged, delivering a flurry of punches and kicks. Eryndor blocked most of the blows but took a hard hit to his side, stumbling backward. The leader took the opportunity to attack, their movements a blur as they slashed at him with their dark blade.
Eryndor raised a glowing shield of energy, but the leader's power was formidable. Cracks formed in the shield before it shattered, and the impact knocked Eryndor off balance. Another figure aimed a dagger, dark energy swirling around its blade, and hurled it at him. Eryndor deflected it with a wave of his hand, but the dagger grazed him, slicing above his right eyebrow. He winced, blood dripping down his face, the pain momentarily disorienting him.
Fueled by rage, Eryndor roared, his aura exploding outward. He dashed forward with blinding speed, landing a devastating punch on one figure, sending them flying into another. The ground trembled as he summoned a colossal wave of energy, slamming it down onto the remaining attackers. They were thrown like ragdolls, crashing into walls and collapsing to the ground.
Panting, Eryndor raised his hand for one final attack, a swirling sphere of energy forming in his palm. He hurled it with all his might, the explosion blinding and deafening. The force knocked him off his feet, and darkness claimed him as he fell unconscious.
When Eryndor opened his eyes, he found himself in his room. The familiar ceiling greeted him, but the pain in his brow reminded him it wasn't a dream. Surrounding his bed were his mother, the king, and several healers. His mother, Elyria, clutched his hand, her face pale with worry.
"Eryndor, my star!" Elyria cried, brushing his hair back. "What happened? We didn't find you in your room."
The king's stern gaze softened slightly as he leaned closer. "Where were you, boy? The guards searched the entire palace."
Eryndor opened his mouth to speak, but a voice, quiet yet commanding, echoed in his mind. Say nothing. Not yet.
"I… I don't remember," he murmured, looking down. Elyria's grip on his hand tightened, her eyes filled with concern.
The king frowned, clearly unsatisfied, but said nothing more. He signaled for the healers to continue their work before leaving the room, his cloak billowing behind him.
Once they were alone, Eryndor turned to his mother, his eyes glistening. "Mom," he whispered, "there's something I need to tell you."
Elyria cupped his face, her touch gentle. "What is it, my little star?"
He hesitated before recounting everything, the chanting, the dark circle, the fight. Elyria listened intently, her expression a mix of horror and awe. When he finished, she pulled him into a tight embrace.
"My brave boy," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You're stronger than you know."
**********
Back to the present, Eryndor's gaze softened as he looked at his mother, her warmth anchoring him to the present. He sighed, leaning back slightly. "I remember now, Mom," he murmured, his voice distant yet steady.
Elyria tilted her head, her expression curious yet tender. "What do you remember, my little star?"
"That night…" His voice faltered briefly, the memory vivid. "The dark circle, the chanting, the fight… and how everything changed."
A knowing look crossed Elyria's face, and she gently brushed her fingers across the scar above his right eyebrow. "That was the first time you unleashed your power," she said softly. "Even though it was underdeveloped, it was still extraordinary, a fragment of what you're destined to become."
Eryndor frowned slightly. "But if I'm destined for greatness, why does it feel so… incomplete? Why can't I find my energy core? What if the prophecy was wrong?"
Elyria smiled, her eyes glowing with reassurance. She reached behind her neck, unfastening the delicate silver chain she always wore. The pendant, a simple yet elegant charm etched with runes gleamed faintly. She held it out to him.
"That's why I got this for you," she said, draping the chain around his neck. "To remind you that even the strongest storms start as a breeze. You don't need to rush, my star. Power isn't just about magic or energy. It's about resilience, heart, and strength."
Eryndor fingered the pendant thoughtfully, his brow furrowed. "But what if I'm not ready when the time comes?"
Elyria cupped his face, her touch firm yet comforting. "You will be. Start by building your physical strength. Focus on discipline, on understanding yourself. Locating and harnessing your energy core will come later, when you're ready."
Her words, steady and unwavering, filled him with a sense of calm. He nodded slowly, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Thank you, Mom. For everything."
Elyria laughed lightly, patting his cheek. "You're my son, Eryndor. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."
Eryndor tightened his grip on her hands, a spark of determination igniting in his chest. "I won't let you down."
"You could never," Elyria said, her voice soft yet certain. "You are my little star, destined to shine brighter than any other."