The rest of the day passed much like any other. They resumed their training, always aware of their guests. The guards watched, and occasionally were joined by the emperor himself. There was little formality otherwise, which surprised Brandt. Any visit by the emperor in the military ruined routines for days on either side.
As the sun set, Brandt noticed a quiet commotion on the wall. Several monks were arguing quietly to one another. Curious, Brandt climbed the stairs to join them. They welcomed him in eagerly. “Brandt, have you noticed anything unusual today?”
“The emperor showed up?”
The other monks waved away his answer as though they believed he was joking. “No, with the air.”
Brandt frowned, then realized that the monks gathered all possessed strong air affinities. He shook his head. “No.”
Was it his imagination, set off by the suggestion, or did the air feel thicker, and warmer than it should? He thought so, but dismissed it as a trick of the mind started by the monks’ question.
“We should tell the abbot,” one monk declared.
“Tell her what?” Brandt asked.
The monks glanced at each other, as though debating whether to tell him. “Something unnatural is happening with the weather. We’ve never felt anything like this.”
Brandt left them with more questions than answers. The air did seem to have a different quality to it, but he didn’t trust his own senses. They were too easily led astray by suggestions. He put the incident aside as one of the small but odd experiences he’d had since joining the monks.
That night, a storm struck.
Brandt had spent the vast majority of his life in cities. He had undergone some mountain maneuvers as part of his training, but he’d never experienced a true mountain storm. He woke to the sound of thunder echoing between the stone walls of the valley, louder than any storm he’d ever heard.
Another rolling echo caused the ground to rumble. The air seemed heavy and damp, like he was in the middle of a jungle instead of on a mountainside. Through the window, lightning lit the valley, the blinding light of multiple strikes casting pure white light over the monastery and the path below.
Brandt squinted and left his room. The first monk he crossed paths with had a look of fear frozen on her face. Brandt tried to make light of the situation. “This is quite the storm.”
She shook her head. “This is no storm!”
Then she ran off, toward the abbot’s quarters.
Belatedly, Brandt realized she possessed an air affinity, too.
The realization sent a shiver down his spine. He glanced in the direction of the emperor’s quarters. At the least, he could go check to ensure the emperor and his guards were fine.
More lightning flashed, the strikes blinding him for several heartbeats. The thunder followed almost instantly after, indicating how close the strikes were hitting.
Most of the monks gathered in their shared dormitories, hiding from the storm. Even those without air affinities realized something was wrong. Brandt ran faster towards the emperor’s quarters.
There were no coincidences.
He first ran into the lightly armored guards who had walked closest to the emperor on his arrival. Four of them formed a loose blockade, their eyes wary as the lightning crashed around them.
The frequency and intensity of the lightning strikes beggared belief. As soon as one flash died another was there. The thunder rolled continually, the ground rumbling as though the earth itself threatened to split apart under the assault.
Speaking was difficult. Brandt had to shout in between blasts, but he made himself clear. He had come to help. After only a moment of hesitation, the guards shooed him past.
He came to a small lobby, an open space for receiving visitors before one reached the main guest room. The four heavy guards stood in a loose semicircle around the room, their backs to the emperor’s door. The remaining eight guards knelt in a circle, sweat pouring from their brows.
Brandt told the guards he wished to help. One of the heavy cavalry asked, “What is your affinity?”
“Fire.”
“Any others?”
“Stone.” It was still the element he had the second-best luck with.
The guard nodded and pointed to the circle. “Join them.”
As Brandt approached, one of the guards opened her eyes. Brandt asked, “What’s going on?”
Thunder drowned out most of her words, but Brandt heard, “Attack.”
How could a storm, no matter how severe it was, be an attack? Was another group using the storm for cover?
Brandt didn’t understand.
The woman motioned him closer, asking for his affinity. Brandt repeated his answer. The woman nodded. “Help us.”
Brandt didn’t know exactly what was expected, but he kneeled down next to the others and closed his eyes, using the song of the fire as a gateway to the other elements. He could hear the song of the stone, a low rumble near the edge of his awareness.
He couldn’t describe all the sensations that washed over him in those moments. Between the storm and the affinity of the emperor’s guards, there was more energy here than Brandt had ever felt.
The songs increased in volume, deafening him to the world outside. He listened to the familiar songs of the flames, surprised to find them quieter than the song of stone, now dominating his attention.
The building that protected them from the wrath of the storm was mostly stone, with wood forming the interior. Brandt heard the stone, solid against the tempest raging around them.
Then he felt a spike of heat, a moment before the backs of his eyelids lit up and an earth-shattering crack broke over him like a wave.
It must have been a lightning strike, exceptionally close to the building.
It was the last thought he had before the stone screamed around him.
A sudden infusion of heat burned against his will. The whole world rang, as though
