CHAPTER 126: LOOMING MISSION 3

Darius’s grin faded, his village’s flames popped up in his mind, Rhoam’s growl is low but fierce, his plates were clinking with suppressed tension.

The news shocked them, their unity were tested by the separation, the weight of working alone settled like a stone in their chests, their bonds with their beasts was the only anchor against the sudden uncertainty.

Master Elara detailed the missions with precision, her voice was steady as she outlined the challenges for everyone.

Kelvin’s task involved a fire-wyrm, its flames scorching Valebreach’s mines, disrupting the town’s ore trade, its origins possibly tied to the Veil’s remnants, its roars echoed through the tunnels where Kelvin’s father had fallen.

The mission required taming or defeating the beast, a trial that would force Kelvin to confront his past.

Lyra’s mission demanded infiltrating Duskfall’s shadowed groves, where a hidden cache of shadow runes which is vital for the Sanctum’s defenses was guarded by rogue tamers, their motives were unclear but dangerous, their shadow beasts were a threat Lyra would face alone, her sister’s memory was a specter in the groves.

Darius’s mission required confronting a riftborn remnant, a spectral beast haunting Ironholt’s ruins, its presence was destabilizing the region, its attacks were linked to the Veil’s collapse, a challenge that would test Darius’s courage against the ghosts of his village.

The trio grappled with the challenge, their reactions was a mix of determination and unease, their bonds with their beasts a steady anchor against the weight of their tasks.

Kelvin clutched Mealin’s amulet, its drake essence warm, his resolve waa hardened despite his fear of Valebreach’s mines.

Lyra adjusted her gauntlet, its glow was steady, her determination was burning through her doubt about Duskfall’s groves. Darius tossed his soulstone, his grin returned, his courage was a shield against Ironholt’s ruins.

The trio met later in the training grounds, the scorched earth was quiet under the Sanctum’s evening glow, the rune-etched pillars were casting long shadows as their beasts rested beside them, sensing their unease.

Kelvin spoke first, his voice was low, his fear of Valebreach’s memories were heavy in his chest. "The mines... they are where my father died.

That wyrm, its flames... it’s like facing him again, like the Veil is still mocking me." Xerion hissed, his scales were flaring, his amber eyes were fierce, a reminder of their bond’s strength and his warmth was easing Kelvin’s fear.

Lyra’s eyes were fierce but troubled, her voice was soft but resolute. "Duskfall was where my sister fell. Those rogue tamers, their shadow beasts... they will make me relieve it, but I won’t break."

Salaris screeched, her talons were clicking on the earth, while her presence was easing Lyra’s pain, her feathers shimmered in the fading light.

Darius tossed his soulstone, his grin was strained but sharp. "Ironholt’s ruins are all that is left of my home. That remnant... it’s like the Veil is laughing at me, but I will crush it."

Immediately he said that Rhoam growled, his plates were clinking, while his strength boosted Darius’s resolve, his eyes were gleaming with determination.

They vowed to support each other remotely, their voices were steady despite the weight of their tasks, sharing strategies in the quiet of the grounds.

Kelvin suggested fire-resistant runes for his wyrm, sketching designs on a rune tablet, his fingers were steady as he planned to counter the beast’s flames.

Lyra proposed shadow traps for her rogue tamers, her gauntlet flared as she described weaving nets to bind their beasts, her mind was sharp despite her fear.

Darius outlined rift-sealing gems for his remnant, tossing his soulstone as he spoke of blasting the spectral beast, his grin fierce despite Ironholt’s ghosts.

They promised to write, to share updates through rune-etched letters, to reunite post-vacation, their unity was unbroken despite the distance.

They planned to research their missions in the Sanctum’s library, a vast chamber of rune-etched shelves, ancient tomes, and glowing tablets, seeking beast lore, maps, and runes to prepare.

Kelvin sought records of Valebreach’s wyrms, their habits and weaknesses, his amulet was warm as he planned.

Lyra searched for maps of Duskfall’s groves, their hidden paths and dangers, her gauntlet was steady. Darius looked for reports on Ironholt’s remnants, their spectral forms and vulnerabilities, his soulstone glowed.

Their determination was a flame against their fears, their bonds with their beasts was a shield against the uncertainty ahead.

In the Great Hall, the trio stood together with their beasts beside them, the weight of their separate missions settled in like a heavy cloak.

The hall’s runes glowed, while casting intricate patterns across their Veilbane Medals, a reminder of their triumph over the Veil and the challenges awaiting in their hometowns.

Kelvin clutched Master Mealin’s amulet, its drake essence was warm against his palm, Xerion’s hiss was soft but fierce, his resolve was steady as he faced Valebreach’s mines.

Lyra’s gauntlet flared, while Salaris’s screech was echoing through the hall, her determination was unyielding as she prepared for Duskfall’s groves.

Darius tossed his soulstone, Rhoam’s growl was a promise of strength, his grin was sharp as he steeled himself for Ironholt’s ruins.

The Sanctum’s vibrant energy was pulsed around them, the vacation loomed like a shadow, their unity was a flame that would guide them through their hometowns’ trials, their scars were a testament to their strength, their bonds with their beasts was an unbreakable anchor.

For the Tide’s Crest, Kelvin, Lyra, and Darius had the weight of their separate missions in Valebreach, Duskfall, and Ironholt pressed heavily, their Veilbane Medals was gleaminf as symbols of their past triumph and their resolve to face the challenges that were ahead, where their scars was a testament to their survival.

🕒🕒It is study/ research time for the trio’s....

In the library’s quiet heart, the trio were gathered at a rune-etched table, that its surface was worn smooth by generations of tamers, that are surrounded by shelves that loomed like silent sentinels, their sigils was pulsing faintly in the crystal-lit gloom.