Fallen From The Heavens

The transition was not gentle.

The last remnants of the Gargoyle's shattered cathedral crumbled to dust behind them. A wind howled—not the clean winds of the Pegasus skies, nor the dry weight of stone—but something… venomous. Diseased. Wrong.

The boys stepped forward into the shifting lands where sky met ground in unnatural ways, where roots bled and rocks pulsed with veins like flesh.

"This is the edge of the Manticore's domain," Kazin warned. "He is not like the others. The Pegasus tested your freedom. The Gargoyle your endurance. But the Manticore?"

"He tests your balance."

A thundercrack split the plain, and the sky opened violently. From above descended a massive black shadow, leathery wings stretching wide enough to blot out the sun. Its tail thrashed like a whip—tipped with a barbed spike dripping venom that hissed as it touched the ground.

Its face was part lion, part demon. And its eyes—burning red—locked directly onto Oni.

"You carry two of my kind," the beast growled. "And the scent of the Phoenix… This will be glorious."

Before anyone could react, the Manticore lunged, speed unnatural for its size. It closed the gap in a heartbeat, slamming Oni with its paw.

Oni flew through the air—stone armor breaking off his body mid-flight. He crashed, skidding backward, chest gasping for breath.

Rain was thrown back—his skin burning where the venom touched.

Before anyone could react, the Manticore lunged, speed unnatural for its size. It closed the gap in a heartbeat, slamming Oni with its paw.

Oni flew through the air—stone armor breaking off his body mid-flight. He crashed, skidding backward, chest gasping for breath.

Rain moved instantly, whispering:

"Purpureum. Caeruleum. Flavus." (Strength. Sharpness. Weight.)

Vermillion flared alive. He slashed sideways, the blade growing denser, sharper, and heavier with each swing. Then triple cast:

"Crimson Arrow. Abyssal Tide. Cristilian!"

The crystal blade launched a crimson spear—hitting the Manticore's side. Black water burst from the wound, spreading in tendrils to sap its speed. Then came the magic-canceling cage of Cristilian, trying to trap the beast in a prism of crystals.

But the Manticore roared, tail flashing forward. It shattered the crystal field with venom-soaked spikes.

Rain was thrown back—his skin burning where the venom touched.

Oni stood again.

This time, his back rippled. First wings—white and translucent like the Pegasus. Then armor—stone plating like the Gargoyle. His form merged both beast's traits in a hybrid stance.

"Rain. Aim for the tail. I'll lock the rest."

Rain nodded, standing slowly.

Oni charged, wind rushing around him as he rocketed forward. The Manticore clawed, but Oni turned into the hit midair—absorbing the blow through Gargoyle form, then exploding into Pegasus speed to reappear on the beast's back.

He slammed his fists down—once, twice—cracking the spine.

Rain's voice rang again:

"Nigrum. Caeruleum. Viridis." (Magic. Sharpness. Size.)

Vermillion doubled in length, became thinner and infused with shadow. It began to whisper through the wind, syncing with Rain's heartbeat.

"One more time. Feed me."

Rain raised the sword and performed a four-layered cast:

Mother Nature – vines exploded from the earth.

Crimson Arrow – sharp crystals flew like daggers.

Abyssal Tide – water flooded the air with inky cold.

Provocation – an illusion of Rain sprinted toward the Manticore's face.

The vines caught its legs. The real Rain dashed beneath its tail, using the illusion for cover, and sliced upward, severing one of the venomous barbs with a flash of blackened steel.

"You… carry more than power… you carry his memory…" the Manticore hissed, blood spilling from its ribs. It looked at Oni. "Raphata."

Oni blinked. His chest ached—not from pain, but a pulse of memory not his own. A glimpse of a man before him—another warrior standing tall before the Phoenix, wings aflame.

"Raphata…"

He didn't understand it. But his body responded with rage and grace fused into one.

Oni jumped.

Stone wings flared, Pegasus aura blazing. His fist hit the Manticore's skull like a meteor strike—crushing its crown into the earth.

The beast let out a choked roar and finally collapsed.

The boys stood panting.

Kazin approached slowly. "He dies… but leaves a gift."

The earth beneath the Manticore glowed. From its chest, a third Mark rose—fire-red and gold, shaped like a crown and stinger. It floated, then embedded into Oni's chest alongside the others.

He dropped to his knees, overwhelmed.

Rain stood beside him.

"We honor you," he said softly, placing a hand on the beast's cooling flank. "For what you taught us."

Vermillion whispered: "Three more… perhaps four… the war is far from over."

They camped in silence.

The sky above the Plains of the Lion was dark now, veined with red cracks—scars from the battle. The boys sat around a low fire made of violet flame, summoned by Rain's magic and fed by fragments of Pegasus wind and Gargoyle dust.

Oni hadn't spoken in hours.

His chest was bare—burnt, cracked, and glowing faintly. The three Marks pulsed like living embers, each one shaped differently: a wing, a crest, a crown.

Kazin broke the silence.

"You're at a threshold now," he said. "Most who carry even one Mark go mad from the power. You carry three. Pegasus. Gargoyle. Manticore. Each with a different nature… and they are beginning to fight each other inside you."

Oni finally looked up, sweat beading his brow.

"They're screaming," he rasped. "All three… like they want to pull my body apart."

"They're not screaming," Kazin replied, kneeling beside him. "They're competing. Each beast demands dominance—wants your soul shaped in its image. One wants you to fly, the other to endure, and the last… the last wants you to kill without mercy."

Inside Oni's body, the Marks weren't symbols anymore—they were entities.

The Pegasus whispered freedom, instinct, movement, the wind that cannot be caught.

The Gargoyle commanded stillness, stone, and the patience to bear pain until the right moment to strike.

The Manticore… wanted everything. Fear. Strength. Poison. Fury. It wanted to become king inside him.

As Oni closed his eyes, the fire dimmed.

He entered the space between sleep and waking—the Void Between Beasts.

Oni stood now in an endless dark arena. The three beasts circled him.

The Pegasus, wings coated in silver flame.

The Gargoyle, broken but unyielding.

The Manticore, eyes glowing like suns, voice deep as the sea.

"Choose one," the Manticore snarled.

"No," said the Pegasus. "Balance or die."

"Silence," the Gargoyle muttered. "Let the boy endure."

Suddenly, they charged him all at once.

Oni didn't run. He screamed back, and something inside him cracked—not in fear, but in surrender. Not to the beasts—but to himself.

"I am not yours. You are mine," Oni said through gritted teeth. "You were hunted. You were killed. Now you live in me."

His Mark flared—a new color blending through the chest: a deep, volcanic violet with gold veins.

The beasts stopped.

The Pegasus bowed first. Then the Gargoyle crossed its arms and stepped back. The Manticore snarled—but finally knelt.

With this the boys completed and conquered the plains. Now they had to learn the second key of nature in the aquatic kingdom.