A guttural snarl ripped through the pre-dawn stillness, shattering Kaelen’s uneasy slumber. He was instantly awake, every nerve screaming. Veridian had been right. They had come. Ash-hounds. Their forms, shifting grey blurs in the faint starlight, were already a wave crashing towards his meager cinder-cove. Ancient predators of the Emberfall, they hunted in vast, silent packs across the Ashwastes, led by an alpha female larger and more fearsome than any male. Over two meters tall at the shoulder, five meters long from snout to tail, a monstrous engine of primal hunger. They possessed no fear, only an instinct for overwhelming force. They moved like smoke, a silent rush of claws and teeth against the ash. No hesitation, no caution. Just a relentless surge. Kaelen pushed himself out of the cinder-cove, ash swirling around his legs. The air crackled with their feral energy. A dozen broke from the main pack, veering towards him. Glowing eyes, like embers, fixed on his form. He felt the ash thrum beneath his feet, a nascent current of power. Drawing it up, Kaelen formed a spear of hardened cinder in his hand. He lunged, driving it into the chest of the lead hound. The creature shrieked, a sound like grinding stone, and collapsed, dissolving into dust. Another lunged. Kaelen flicked his wrist. A razor-sharp ash-shard sliced through its throat. It fell, gurgling on cinder-dust. But more came. Too many. His movements were swift, precise, but each kill drained him. He felt the familiar pull on his reserves, the ache in his bones from the previous days’ exertions. One by one, he cut them down, but the pack was a tide, endless and unforgiving. *This won’t be enough.* The thought slammed into him, cold and clear amidst the chaos. He couldn't sustain this. Not against such numbers. He needed to be more efficient, more… sweeping. He spread his hands. Instead of a single, powerful ash-spear, Kaelen drew vast quantities of fine particulate into the air around him. He didn’t consolidate it. He focused, pushing the energy, stretching it thin, sharpening it. Five shimmering tendrils of compressed ash shot from his palms, needles of deadly force. They pierced the skulls of five oncoming hounds in quick succession. Five choked whimpers. Five collapses. Each strike precise, economical. It was difficult. The control required was immense, splitting his focus, maintaining multiple vectors of attack. But the ash responded. He refined the technique, adjusting the density, the trajectory. The next volley was smoother. Then the next. *Swoosh. Swoosh. Swoosh.* The ash-needles flew, a deadly flurry. His breath hitched with the effort, but he was holding them back, just barely. For a moment, he thought he might survive this alone. Then he looked towards the main bulk of the Cinder-Hounds. Veridian was a dark silhouette against the swirling ash, a maelstrom of destruction. There was no desperate struggle, no frantic defence. Only an utterly relentless, methodical slaughter. Their shard-blade moved in brutal arcs, a terrifying extension of their will. There was no maniacal laughter, only the sickening sound of cracking bone and tearing ash-flesh. Dozens of hounds lay broken around Veridian, mangled forms slowly dissipating into the dust. Each swing of the shard-blade cleaved through several hounds, a grim ballet of death. Veridian never faltered, never paused. They simply moved, and the hounds fell. A hound lunged, sinking its teeth into Veridian’s leg. The impact sounded like metal striking stone. The hound cried out, its teeth shattered, bloody ash-pulp smeared on Veridian’s dark fabric. Veridian merely grabbed its head, a casual, almost bored motion, and crushed it. The creature’s skull imploded like a dried pod. Veridian then flung the limp body at a cluster of other hounds. They tumbled, limbs bent at impossible angles, bellies torn open by the impact. This was not battle. This was annihilation. From the heart of the pack, a new presence emerged. Larger than the rest, its ash-grey fur seemed to absorb the scant starlight, making it appear even darker. Its eyes glowed with an unnerving, almost intelligent fury. The alpha female. Dark, heavy ash swirled around its form, a miniature vortex that hummed with oppressive power. Static electricity crackled between the prominent, jagged bone spurs on its head. A burst of superheated air, thick with ionized ash particles, shot towards Veridian like a solid bolt. It ripped through the dust-choked air, a physical manifestation of the wastes' raw power. Veridian didn’t move. Not in the conventional sense. They raised an open palm. The incandescent bolt of energy, hot enough to melt glass, simply dissolved into their hand. Absorbed. Gone. A cold wave of fear rippled through the Cinder-Hounds. Their alpha’s most potent attack, rendered utterly inert. The alpha female let out a high-pitched, desperate wail. It wasn’t a challenge. It was a command. Retreat. The remaining hounds, perhaps half the original pack, hesitated for a heartbeat, then turned, scrambling back into the ash-dunes. Their primal instinct for survival had finally overridden their bloodlust. But Veridian had no intention of letting them go. The shard-blade flew, a dark streak across the deepening twilight. Spinning with fearsome velocity, it carved a path through the fleeing pack. Agonized shrieks echoed as hounds were sliced apart, their forms dissolving into drifting ash. Veridian soared into the air, a dark figure against the emerging dawn, propelled by a sudden burst of ash. The shard-blade, having completed its bloody circuit, returned to their hand. Like a meteor, Veridian plummeted towards the fleeing alpha. The impact was like a localized tremor. Ash erupted outwards, a violent plume obscuring the final moments. When the dust settled, the alpha female lay utterly annihilated, a mangled ruin of ash and bone. Only one of its jagged head-spurs remained intact, stark against the ravaged ground. Veridian stood over it, motionless. Kaelen felt a tremor in his own limbs. Not from exhaustion, but from the sheer, overwhelming power he had witnessed. Veridian showed no signs of fatigue. In fact, their posture seemed… lighter, more invigorated, as if the slaughter had been a bracing exercise. *Are they truly human?* Veridian moved, bending to pick up the remaining bone spur from the alpha’s head. It glowed faintly, a dark, primal energy radiating from it. “Useful,” Veridian murmured, their voice a low rasp. “A conduit for raw static, if refined. Excellent in a bind.” They extended their hand, palm open. With a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in the air, the bone spur simply winked out of existence. Not dropped. Not concealed. Vanished. Into an ash-pocket, Kaelen surmised, a personal storage woven from their ability. Veridian straightened, then tossed a dull, heavy obsidian knife towards Kaelen. It clattered to the ash at his feet. “Your food now,” Veridian stated, their gaze sweeping over the carnage. “Most of a Cinder-Hound’s flesh is toxic. Only the lean muscle along the ribs is safe to dry. Find it.” The previous night’s jerky. It clicked into place. Veridian hunted these monsters. For sustenance. Kaelen stared at the knife, then at the heaped carcasses. The air was thick with the tang of burnt ash and ichor. He approached a fallen hound, its form already beginning to decay into dust. Veridian knelt beside another, making quick, precise cuts, peeling back a strip of muscle the size of Kaelen’s palm. Kaelen swallowed, the taste of ash suddenly dry in his mouth. He copied Veridian’s movements, awkwardly at first, then with increasing proficiency. The obsidian knife bit into the tough, fibrous flesh. He knew hunger. He knew what it took to survive in the desolate fringes of the Ashwastes. If it was edible, it was food. He worked quickly, extracting enough meat to last him several days. Not too much. He couldn't carry it all, and excess would only draw more scavengers. He bundled the pieces in a scrap of his cloak, tying it to his back. Veridian glanced at his efforts. A brief nod. “Resourceful enough.” The words were clipped, but Kaelen felt a faint approval. “Still much work to do.” “Move,” Veridian commanded. “Before the others catch the scent.” It wasn't fear in their voice, just a pragmatic avoidance of inconvenience. Kaelen nodded, pushing himself to his feet. He didn't want to linger either. The first rays of Solara’s pale, weak sun were spreading across the Ashwastes, illuminating the gruesome tableau. Dark shapes already wheeled overhead, ash-vultures sensing the feast. More creatures would come. That was the eternal law of the Ashwastes. The dead fed the living, the strong consumed the weak. He fell into step behind Veridian, moving through the ankle-deep ash. He focused his ability, calling forth the latent energy within the dust. Ash-gliding. He expected the exhaustion, the heavy drain on his reserves after the night’s battle. But it didn't come. His control was smoother. The ash beneath his feet responded with surprising alacrity, flowing like a liquid current. His movements were more fluid, less effortful. The desperate struggle, the life-and-death decisions, had sharpened him. He had pushed his connection to the ash to its breaking point, and in doing so, had reforged it. *I’ve become stronger.* The realization settled deep within him. A stark, undeniable truth. He watched Veridian’s back, a silent, imposing figure moving steadily across the desolate landscape. He still didn’t understand why Veridian kept him. But one thing was clear: as long as he could keep pace, as long as he could survive the lessons, he would grow stronger. He had to. Kaelen followed, a shadow in the rising dust.

Ash and Iron