Arthur had always scratched his head over why Elias—the baby of the bunch, green as spring grass—got the nod for Crystal Spire's hot seat.
Elias had the dirt, locked tight in the tower's velvet-circle vault. The Spire's real juice flowed through a one-of-a-kind spellcraft gig: Foresight & Echo.
Post-old-Master's dirt nap, just two newbies packed the goods: Elias, and his globe-trotting Uncle Silas.
Split paths, like a fork in hell's highway.
Silas rode Echo—ear-honed wizardry. Tune into earth's whisper-farts, and bam: tally enemy boots from miles out, blind as a bat.
Elias? Foresight lane. Eyeball grind: decode dust-dance in a sun-slice, unravel campfire smoke-twists, clock pond-ripples and nail the culprit. Spot the spark in every glitch.
Right now? That steam-whiff from the pot? Screaming red flags, mute as a grave.
Unwelcome guest crashed the pad.
That's why he could solo-watch while Arthur geeked out. His radar? Ironclad shield.
No dally. Elias popped up, ghosted from the kitchen. Straight to the study, lone lamp spilling honey-glow. One crisp knuckle-rap on the jamb.
Arthur glanced from his tome, grin budding—then nuked at Elias's poker-face. Buddies since diapers; they read tells like open books.
Elias hit the desk. "Grub's up," he drawled, level as a pond. "C'mon, chow down." Eyes laser to the sword loafing casual on the wood—the one Elias had chucked there like junk mail.
Arthur's smile ghosted back, edged like a shiv. Snap-book, stand, snag blade like oh-yeah-forgot-this.
Kitchen march, shoulder-to-shoulder.
Hearth-side, Elias cracked the lid. Elven Grain? Bloomed to fat purple gems, scent still coy as a tease.
Fire-crackle hush, Elias side-mouthed: "Pugh nailed it. Freaks crashed the party."
Arthur's inhale hitched. "How? We ghosted in clean. Rat in the ranks?"
"Nah, screw-up's mine." Elias's jaw clicked tight. "Bonehead move." Chin-jut to the pot as he ladled the gold-dust into a bowl.
Arthur synced. That shy stink? Nose-blind to normies, but a damn flare to fang-jaws on the prowl. Elias, cocky in his bag of tricks, blanked on real heat sniffing 'em out in a bunkered berg.
Baited the hook—they were the worm.
Elias cool-as-you-please scooping chow? Eased the knot in Arthur's gut. Buddy wasn't sweating. Still, ice needled his spine. Beast-face? Virgin territory. House hush? Chokehold tight.
"Chin down," Elias breathed low. Then, chipper blast: "Sample this bad boy!"
Ladle thrust, gooey grains dangling like bait.
Arthur's ticker jackhammered. Neck hairs? Electric storm. Hover-vibe, ceiling-lurk. Trust the bro. Lean in, lap it up.
Spot on. Loft-dweller.
Sinewy coil unwound from beam-gloom. Top-half slithered down, bloating to hag-torso freakshow. Serpent dome cracked, scales flaking to lady-mug—slit-pups, locks wriggling viper-nest. Maw yawned: pin-fangs, tongue-fork flick.
Flaky claws sprouted flanks, ghosting for throat-meat.
Claws a hair from skin, reek like old pennies flooding Arthur's schnoz—
CLANG!
Elias flipped a plate over the bowl. Ladle? Weaponized—whip-blur ceiling-ward.
CRACK! Scoop caved skull-deep.
Broken grip chucked, Elias snagged Arthur's shoulder, whirl-dodge as tar-juice plopped.
Arthur's brain lagged when Elias filched the sword from dead-fish fingers. Silver streak, upward hack.
SQUELCH.
Gore-gush. Noggin lopped, splashing cauldron-hot. Torso spasmed, shriveling sack-like to mega-snake, dangling limp.
Elias? Already rolling. Blade-high, wall-lunge.
CRASH!
Plaster nuked, boot-quake. Peek-hole: scaly bald dude coiled strike-pose. Crimson slash diagonals its gut. Tick later? Bisected flop.
No breather. Elias pirouette, sword-sunburst, hurl-roof.
"Scatter!"
Blade punched shingles, shrapnel-rain.
Hush. Then, tar-drip from fresh skylight.
THUD. THUD.
Dude-halves pancake. Third brute—sword-skewered dome—roof-smashed, quake-boom land.
Elias sauntered, yank-free, wrist-flick.
SHINK.
Arthur twitched as steel slotted home in his sheath. Blade-to-grin-to-monster-pile stare.
Air? Dust-choke, blood-ozone funk. Throat? Sandpaper.
"Clear run. Trio only—for now," Elias said, bowl-snag. "My bad on the jump-scare. Wanted quick-quit, dodge big-eyes. Low-tiers. Half-baked. No sweat." Bowl-wag. "Starved?"
Arthur's pins? Jelly. Beast stare-down? First rodeo. Swagger? Vapor. No way he'd let Elias clock the shakes.
"Beast close-up? Prime field trip," he croaked, curiosity cosplay over freak-flag.
"Whatever floats." Elias shrugged, bowl-tuck, door-dip.
Hit stoop when CRACK! boomed back, timber-tsunami roar.
Whirl—horror-pale. Arthur? Still in. Kitchen? Pancake-city.
Bowl ditched, grain-dirt confetti. Elias blurred dust-dive. Lamp-shard, black-hole. Snatched hearth-brand torch.
Haze-poke: beam-buried Arthur.
"Arthur!" Scramble-shout, panic-crack.
Groan-mumble from the crush.
Heave-lift. Arthur sprawled, powder-keg, mug twisted hurt. Arm pinned-elbow, crimson bloom sleeving out.
"Easy, dumbass," Elias husked, shake in the silk.
Fingers flew—pinch-points seal bleed, zap pain. Pouch-pill jammed jaws, then splint-mangle with splinter-stakes.
Cradle-hoist. No squat—doc-run, stat.
Turn-exit? Weak grip snags tunic. Arthur, half-lights-out, good-arm wave to study. Rasp-beg.
"Basket… key… ditch no."
Elias iced, then blue-streak curse. Study-dash, basket-sling back-hitch.
Arthur bundled, load locked, no door-dink. Run-ramp, vault-leap—compound wall cleared in one, night-swallow.