The world didn't give them time to breathe.
Jake had barely steadied himself when a low rumble rolled across the sky. Not thunder — shaping. Wild, uncontrolled, and close. Avrae's head snapped upward, pupils narrowing as blips of yellow light flickered into existence above the rooftops.
"More rifts," Jake whispered.
Avrae's tail lashed. "The air tastes wrong."
Jake didn't need the Insight to agree. The magic felt thin, stretched, as if someone were pulling threads out of the Vale's fabric and tying them into knots.
A flash of movement below caught his eye.
Violet.
She was riding hard through the chaos, trying to control a panicking horse as the street erupted around her. Jake waved frantically, but she didn't see him — she only saw the dragon.
"Avrae, we need to get to her!"
The dragon grunted. "Hold on, little Jayk."
Jake barely had time to brace before Avrae launched off the roof, wings beating hard despite the injury. They dove, wind screaming past Jake's ears. He clung to the jutting ridges along Avrae's spine, fingers slipping on sharp bone.
"Steady!" Jake shouted.
"I am steady," Avrae growled — right before belching a sheet of fire at a cluster of shadow‑creatures lunging for Violet.
The blast scattered them, but it sent Violet's horse into a frenzy. It bucked violently, throwing her several feet before bolting down the street.
"Violet!" Jake yelled.
She hit the cobbles hard and didn't get up.
"Avrae — down!"
The dragon angled sharply, landing with a jarring thud that rattled Jake's teeth. More rifts burst open around them, spilling robed figures with blank, mist‑shrouded faces. They hovered above the ground, drifting toward Violet with eerie purpose.
Avrae snarled. "They sting. I will burn them."
Before Jake could respond, the dragon surged forward, unleashing lances of fire that tore through the creatures. They dissolved into drifting ash, leaving a clear path to Violet.
Avrae scooped her up gently — surprisingly gently — in one claw.
"Where to now, Jayk?" he asked, voice low and dangerous. "Say it fast."
Jake's mind raced. The castle. His family. Answers.
"To the castle!"
Avrae didn't hesitate. Wings snapped open, and they were airborne again, banking hard through fog and smoke. Violet stirred in the dragon's grip, blinking up at Jake with a mixture of terror and disbelief.
"What the hell, Jake?!"
"Don't look down," he called back.
She did.
"Yahoo!"
Avrae rumbled with amusement. "I like this one."
The castle rose ahead — four towers, stone walls, and the waterfall Jake had shaped with such pride. It should have been beautiful.
It wasn't.
Fog smothered the courtyard. No lights. No movement. No sign of his family.
"Avrae, land—"
The dragon ignored him and crashed straight through the grand hall's pillars, sending stone flying.
Jake winced. "There. That works too."
Violet tumbled out of Avrae's claw and immediately punched Jake in the chest. "What is going on?! I was sunbathing with Sarah, and then a giant yellow tear in the sky swallowed us!"
Jake's stomach dropped. "Where's Sarah?"
"I don't know!" Violet's voice cracked. "I lost her."
Jake pulled her into a hug. "We'll find her. And my family. They have to be here."
But the castle was empty.
Room after room. Hallway after hallway. No voices. No warmth. No life. Only fog creeping through the cracks and the faint smell of burnt magic.
Jake sank into a chair opposite Violet in the grand hall. The torches flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the stone.
"This place looks like a graveyard," Violet whispered.
Jake didn't answer. He couldn't. His chest felt tight, his thoughts spiralling.
The world he'd shaped for his family — for safety, for wonder — was falling apart faster than he could understand.
And somewhere in the fog, something chirped.
Loud. Distorted. Growing closer.
Jake looked up just in time to see enormous black shapes descending from the sky — gargantuan birds, pecking at smaller creatures as they tore through the clouds.
Avrae growled, wings flaring.
Jake swallowed hard.
The Vale was unravelling.
And they were running out of time.
The chirping grew louder.
Not birdsong. Not anything natural. It echoed through the stone corridors like something trying to mimic life and getting it wrong.
Violet pressed closer to Jake. "What is that?"
Avrae's head snapped toward the sound, nostrils flaring. "Something hungry."
Jake swallowed. "We need to keep moving."
They pushed deeper into the castle, their footsteps echoing through empty halls. Jake had shaped this place to feel warm, lived‑in — tapestries, gardens, sunlight through high windows. But now everything felt wrong. Cold. Hollow. As if the world were forgetting itself.
A shadow flickered across the far wall.
Jake froze.
Avrae stepped in front of them, wings half‑raised despite the pain. "Show yourself."
The chirping stopped.
Silence pressed in, thick and suffocating.
Then — a shriek.
A massive black shape slammed into the window, cracking the glass. One of the gargantuan birds Jake had seen outside. Its beak scraped against the stone, leaving deep gouges as it tried to force its way in.
Violet screamed.
Avrae roared back, the sound shaking dust from the rafters. "Back, little Jayk!"
He lunged, ramming the window with his shoulder. The glass shattered outward, sending the creature tumbling into the courtyard below. Another shriek rose from outside — then another. The flock was gathering.
Jake's pulse hammered. "We can't stay here."
"No," Avrae agreed. "This place is dying."
Jake didn't want to hear that. He didn't want to believe it. But the castle — his castle — felt like a fading memory. The walls flickered at the edges, as if the shaping that held them together was thinning.
"Jake," Violet whispered, voice trembling. "Where's your family?"
He didn't have an answer. The thought twisted in his chest like a knife.
"We'll find them," he said, though the words felt fragile. "We have to."
Avrae lowered his head so they could climb onto his back again. "The sky is safer than these halls."
Jake wasn't sure that was true, but staying here wasn't an option. He helped Violet up, then swung himself onto Avrae's spine.
The dragon launched upward through the shattered window, wings beating hard. Fog swallowed them immediately, cold and damp against Jake's skin. The castle vanished beneath them, lost in the swirling grey.
Shapes moved in the mist — too many to count.
Avrae growled. "They circle us."
"Can you outfly them?" Jake asked.
"I can try."
He banked sharply, diving through a gap in the fog. The world opened beneath them — the valley stretching out in fractured pieces, rifts tearing through the sky like wounds. Creatures spilt from them in waves, some familiar, most not.
Jake's breath caught.
His world — the one he'd shaped for his family — was collapsing.
Violet clung to him, shaking. "Jake… what is happening?"
He didn't know how to answer. He didn't know how to fix any of this.
But the Insight pulsed faintly at the back of his mind, whispering fragments of understanding.
Someone was shaping over him. Someone powerful. Someone careless.
Avrae's voice rumbled beneath him. "Little Jayk… where do we fly?"
Jake stared out over the broken valley, heart pounding.
There was only one place left that might hold answers.
"The Shaper's Spire," he said quietly. "Take us there."
Avrae's wings flared. "Hold tight."
And they plunged into the storm.
Wind tore at Jake's face as Avrae climbed higher, the world below dissolving into fog and fractured light. Through the swirling grey, a silhouette emerged — tall, jagged, impossibly dark. The Shaper's Spire rose ahead, fused into the castle walls like a parasite clinging to its host.
Jake's breath caught.
"Avrae," he whispered, "take us to the top."