Daniel Newwyn
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Severa Book 1 (Chapter 14)
🕑 Added 2025-08-19 10:32:47 +0000 UTCMarrieh Halveth never let her boots touch the ground. Each swirl of crimson wind carried her like a kite on its string as she rode the air.
[Yo, who that? Let me check her out really quick.]
Check the dragonkin’s status first . . .
[I hear ya.]
DeShawn immediately spat out the results.
Frostborn Juggernaut — Hostile
Emotional Equilibrium: 34%
Emotional Status: Resolute, Reawakening
The Juggernaut’s roar shook the cavern, and its trident arm wasn’t fast enough—so it swung with the other hand.
A crimson gale lifted Halveth higher, and the punch ripped only a hollow through the air.
Her bowstring thrummed. One arrow. Two. Then three. Each shaft was a searing streak, a trail of scarlet fire carving into the Juggernaut’s chest. The beast staggered but didn’t collapse, bracing itself with a bellow that fogged the cavern in rime.
[The lady is Halveth?]
Yes.
[Where did she get her arrows from?]
Watch.
She didn’t need a quiver; the aether was her arsenal. Every time her fingers brushed the air, flame coalesced, solidified, and hardened into a shaft of burning red. By the time her hand drew back the bowstring, another arrow had already existed.
The Frostborn Juggernaut swung its trident desperately, ice-slicked fangs of metal glinting blue-white. It couldn’t touch her.
“Stay down,” she spat, firing a single arrow.
The shot carved through the cavern like a comet, embedding itself into the Juggernaut’s collar. A gout of searing crimson aether exploded, sending cracks spidering up its crystalline throat.
Severa saw the scabbard strapped behind Halveth burning hotter and brighter each time she let another arrow loose. She’s charging it, Severa realized.
The Juggernaut bellowed once more and went for a direct stab this time.
Halveth dipped under it, her body twisting in the air, cloak snapping in the gale. The trident slammed into stone, shattering a ridge of ice into glittering shrapnel—but she was already moving.
Her hand finally seized the scabbard. The blade bled into being in a deep, living crimson, its metal veined with ember-glow that pulsed like arteries under skin. Every beat of light along its length answered her own fury, answering crimson with crimson, as though the weapon had been waiting for rage to wield it.
This was the legendary item, Fury of the Veinfane Cataclysm. A rather grandiose name, if anything, but only grandiose would fit an artifact of that caliber.
Merriah Halveth — Ally
Emotional Equilibrium: 88%
Emotional Status: Controlled, Wrathful
Flame erupted as it left her back, not the delicate crimson glow of her arrows but a torrent of pure, burning aether, so bright Severa had to shield her eyes.
Halveth spun. Her arc ended in a single swing.
The scabbard painted a crescent across the cavern, a half-moon of searing fire that licked ceiling to floor. A geyser of steam and liquefied frost-bone burst forth.
The giant crumpled. Its halves slid to either side before crashing against the cavern floor.
Then Marrieh Halveth touched the ground.
[She good. But let’s be clear, you did the grunt work for her.]
Steam still sizzled from the bisected corpse when Halveth’s boots finally kissed the cavern floor. She didn’t even glance at the Juggernaut’s remains. Her eyes went straight to Severa.
A sigil flared across Halveth’s palm—clean, geometric lines of scarlet aether forming a lattice that pulsed like a heartbeat.
“You . . . should you use rage for diagnostics?” Severa whispered weakly.
“Shhh,” Halveth said. Halveth swept down beside her, sliding an arm under Severa’s shoulders and carefully rolling her onto her back. Severa winced at the movement.
Heat flooded through Severa’s sternum. Her body jolted. The sigil spread over her like a net, tracing veins, lungs, and everything at her core. Severa didn’t love the feeling of being thoroughly inspected, but she wasn’t about to protest now.
[You want a reading of her emotional state, girl?]
No.
Halveth’s jaw clenched. She studied the faint lattice of light across Severa’s chest, then looked back at her with the smallest hint of a grimace.
“There’s something wrong with you,” she said quietly. “I can see the disruption, but I don’t know what it is.”
“I thought . . . you were gone, Merry.”
“I couldn’t have died from that; it would’ve been too shameful of a death.” Halveth brushed a cooling layer of flame across Severa’s arm, easing the ache in her muscles. With her other hand she guided Severa slowly upright, one steady pull at a time until she was propped against her shoulder. “But I had to best another dragonkin down below.”
Severa gave a shaky breath as Halveth’s palm moved to her back. Scarlet warmth seeped through bone and lung, a dull throb fading as a healing weave stitched along strained muscle. Her breath evened, but she still shook from the cold.
Halveth’s gaze sharpened. “Are you cold?”
“Yes,” Severa admitted, her voice trembling.
“You’re suffering some kind of internal injury,” Halveth murmured, almost to herself. “And it’s made worse by how weak your body is after Bloodform. I can’t cure this type of damage.” Her hand lingered against Severa’s back, steady but frustrated. “We need to get you out now.”
Before Severa could protest, Halveth’s arm locked firm around her waist. With effortless strength she lifted her, holding her close as aerowings form behind her back, colored by ivory sparks of resolve. Aetheric Aerowings allowed for more graceful control compared to other forms of flight spells; possibly to ensure minimal shaking and damage to Severa’s body.
“There was an identical . . . dungeon down there?” Severa coughed as she asked.
“Yes.”
“I’ve never heard of . . . any dungeons . . . with two identical boss chambers.”
“This dungeon is one of its kind. Those were bosses, but there still isn’t loot.”
They flew in the air, approaching the gaping hole that connected to the narrow tunnel below. The wind tore at her, and with the pins long since scattered across the cavern floor after the earlier fight, her hair was everywhere, whipping into her mouth, plastering damp strands across her cheeks, tangling over her eyes until she could barely see. A state of complete dishevelment. She hated it; hated the sensation of being reduced to some bedraggled mess clinging to Halveth’s shoulder while her hair flailed like a banner.
Severa’s head lolled to the side to spit out a strand of loose hair, and there it was again—the void gate.
Its edges writhed as if unwilling to remain motionless, and what had formerly appeared to be a blot of darkness stretched thin into the hint of a doorway. A pitch black flame had ringed around it, guttering higher.
The aerowings beat once more, and Halveth angled them toward the mouth of the narrow tunnel that had first carried them into this chamber.
“Merry,” Severa whispered, almost biting her tongue. “That gate . . .”
“I see it. Let’s not care about it now,” Halveth said with a frustrated voice. “We need to get you to Draeth.”
