The Sentinel of the North
You see the things they never see
All you wanted I could be
The arrows struck true—but not deep. Noah saw them vanish in a flash of celestial light against the earthen shield Deimos summoned, their glow fading into grit. The ground rumbled and Noah's eyes tracked the shift of soil and rock—stones and shards and jagged chunks of training ground debris hurtled toward him in a punishing barrage. All you wanted I could be
His breath caught. But this time, the magic answered.
The shield surged back to life.
Celestial light swirled around him, radiant and curved, just as the first stones crashed into it. Light burst outward in a spray of sparks and dust, the impact reverberating through Noah’s arms and shoulders. He gritted his teeth, grounding his feet, focusing everything into keeping the barrier intact.
It held.
Barely.
Each rock that struck sent a jolt through his bones, but the celestial light flared brighter with each blow, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat. As the last stone clattered to the side, Noah’s chest heaved with exertion. Sweat dripped down his temple, but a flicker of satisfaction stirred beneath the strain.
He was still standing. The shield had held. He had trained the two magics he wanted Deimos to test. Accomplishment swelled in his chest as celestial light faded, and his glacier eyes flicked up to his warden, waiting for anything else he had to throw at him.
4/4
Now you know me and I'm not afraid
And I wanna tell you who I am
And I wanna tell you who I am
Noah
