CHAPTER 129: SANCTUM’S RETREAT

The Sanctum’s vibrant atmosphere was a shield against the looming missions, but the shadow of their tasks grew heavier in their mind while their classmates prepared for their own trials in distant towns, their voices was a mix of excitement and dread.

Evenings were spent in the beast pens, a sprawling network of rune-etched enclosures where beasts roamed, their scales, feathers, and plates kept gleaming under the care of tamers, the air was filled with the scent of beast feed and polished leather.

Kelvin brushed Xerion’s scales with a rune-etched comb, the serpent’s hiss was soft as he leaned into the touch, his warmth was easing Kelvin’s fear of Valebreach’s mines, their bond was a steady flame that burned through his doubt.

He spent hours grooming, ensuring every scale gleamed, his amulet warm as he worked, Xerion’s amber eyes were vigilant.

Lyra polished Salaris’s feathers, the raptor’s screeches soft as she preened, her talons was gleaming in the pen’s light, and her presence was a shield against Duskfall’s ghosts, their bond was a quiet strength.

She whispered to Salaris, promising to honor her sister, her gauntlet flared softly. Darius cleaned Rhoam’s plates with a cloth that is infused with ironholt ore, the panther’s growl was low as he leaned into the touch, his strength anchoring Darius against Ironholt’s ruins, their bond unyielding.

The pens, filled with the roars of griffons, drakes, and wolves, were a reminder of the Sanctum’s strength, their scars was a testament to their shared victory, their Veilbane Medals that gleamed in the dim light.

The trio reflected on their growth in the library’s quiet space, their voices was steady as they spoke and their battles has forged them into stronger tamers.

Kelvin vowed to honor his father, to face Valebreach’s wyrm with courage, Xerion’s flames flared as he spoke, his amulet was warm against his chest, his resolve was unyielding despite his fear.

Lyra at her own end promised to reclaim her sister’s memory, to secure Duskfall’s runes with defiance, Salaris’s talons gleamed as she screeched, her gauntlet was steady as she faced her past.

Darius swore to protect Ironholt and to destroy the rift remnant with vengeance. Rhoam’s plates was clinking as he growled, his soulstone was bright in his hand, his grin was sharp.

The monitoring device hummed, its runes flickered with a message: "Vacation missions is active. Face your past to forge the future."

The words underscored the personal stakes, foreshadowing challenges in their hometowns, a quiet warning of trials that would test their resolve, though their scars was a reminder of the strength they had forged in the Rift.

After spending some time together discussing, they all retired to their rooms to rest for the night.

The next morning Sanctum school stood poised at the edge of closure, its rune-etched gates towered over a bustling courtyard where students gathered, their voices was a vibrant tapestry of excitement, apprehension, and farewell, the golden sigils on the stone walls was flickering with a dimming glow that mirrored the bittersweet tide washing over the departing tamers.

The training grounds were once a cacophony of beast spars with flames and shadows clashing, which laid silent, their scorched earth and rune-carved pillars were bathed in the fading light of the Sanctum’s protective runes and their surfaces were etched with the scars of countless battles.

The lecture halls, were lined with ancient tablets with glowing crystals, and tomes that were bound in beast hide, which stood locked, their silence was a stark contrast to the vibrant lessons that had filled them days before.

The beast pens was a sprawling network of rune-etched enclosures, echoed with the final roars, screeches, and growls of griffons, drakes, and wolves, their tamers packed for the long vacation, their movements was hurried but deliberate.

The atmosphere was a potent blend of relief and tension, the Sanctum’s community dispersed to rebuild its influence across the land in the wake of the Veil’s defeat, the shadow of their victory was a quiet reminder of the trials that had forged its heroes and the new challenges was awaiting beyond the school’s walls.

For the Tide’s Crest, Kelvin, Lyra, and Darius—the moment marked the end of their shared sanctuary and the beginning of their separate missions.

Their Veilbane Medals were gleaming as symbols of their triumph over the Sovereign and their resolve was to face the trials in Valebreach, Duskfall, and Ironholt, their scars was a testament to their survival through the Shattered Peaks, Verdant Hollow, Iron Fens, Abyssal Caldera, Sanctum, Veilheart, Abyss Core, and Primordial Rift.

The courtyard was a whirlwind of activity, the gates was crowded with departing students, with their beasts trailing beside them, their scales, feathers, and plates was shining in the evening light, a dazzling array of colors and runes.

Wealthy students were met by parents in rune-etched carriages, their polished wood and glowing sigils was a display of affluence, the vehicles drawn by majestic beasts with griffons with broad wings and their feathers gleaming with honor runes; drakes with molten scales, their eyes fierce yet proud.

Poorer students, like the Tide’s Crest, prepared to travel alone, their packs was heavy with mission gear and their steps were steady despite the weight of their tasks.

Kelvin stood near the gates, his faint scars was across his chest, shoulder, arm, and thigh that barely visible beneath his rune-etched tunic, their pale lines a map of the Primordial Rift’s brutality.

His Veilbane Medal, forged from riftprimal scales and psychic cores that hung heavy at his chest, its violet and gold surface was catching the dimming light, a badge of honor that drew murmurs from passing students.

Xerion slithered beside him, his twenty-foot serpentine form a cascade of crimson and gold scales, their gouges now faint marks, the honor rune etched in the infirmary glowing faintly, his amber eyes scanning the crowd with vigilance, their 82% sync ratio a warm pulse in Kelvin’s chest, anchoring him as he faced the gates, his thoughts on Valebreach’s mines, where a rogue fire-wyrm awaited, its flames tied to his father’s death.

Lyra stood close, her green eyes fierce but shadowed with unease, her faint scars was on her arm, side, and thigh that is hidden beneath her tunic, her shadow-etched gauntlet pulsing with Peaks’ dark runes, gloomstalker spores, labyrinth vine essence, griffon feathers, Fenheart obelisk runes, riftwraith claws, shadowdrake fangs, riftclaw pincers, riftbeast scales, psychic crystals, riftlord spines, and riftmonarch scales, its glow was steady but flickering with her apprehension.

Her Veilbane Medal gleamed, a testament to her determination in the Rift, its surface was catching the courtyard’s light.

Salaris perched on her pack, with her iridescent feathers shimmering with restored vitality, her flank scar was faint, her talons gleaming with riftmonarch essence, clicking softly on the stone, her green eyes mirroring Lyra’s resolve as she prepared for Duskfall’s shadowed groves, where rogue tamers guarded a vital shadow rune cache.

Darius tossed his soulstone, its glow was bright with Peaks’ soulstream gems, labyrinth runes, griffon feathers, shadow claws, shadowdrake fangs, riftclaw pincers, altar runes, psychic gems, riftbeast scales, psychic crystals, riftlord spines, and riftmonarch scales, his scars on his chest, shoulder, and leg faint but visible, his Veilbane Medal shining proudly.

Rhoam prowled at his side, his iron plates clinked softly, their cracks now faint lines, his honor rune glowing, his growl low but fierce, his bond with Darius a rock against the weight of Ironholt’s ruins, where a spectral rift remnant lurked.

Their farewell was a poignant moment, the trio forming a tight circle near the gates, their beasts encircling them like a protective barrier, the courtyard’s chaos faded into a distant hum.

Kelvin’s voice was steady but thick with emotion, his hand clutching Mealin’s drake-essence amulet, its warmth a faint comfort.

"I will write from Valebreach, every step of the way. That wyrm won’t stop me, not with Xerion by my side.

We will face it together, and I will make my father proud." Xerion’s hiss was sharp, his scales flared briefly, a promise of strength that echoed Kelvin’s resolve.

Lyra’s green eyes glistened, her gauntlet flaring softly as she spoke, her voice resolute despite the weight of Duskfall’s memories.

"Duskfall’s groves won’t break me. I will secure those runes, for my sister, for us. I will write, and I will carry you both with me."

Salaris’s screech was fierce, her talons clicking on the stone, with her feathers shimmering as she mirrored Lyra’s defiance.

Darius tossed his soulstone, his grin sharp but strained, his hazel eyes clouded with Ironholt’s ghosts. "Ironholt’s remnant won’t outlast me and Rhoam.

I will write, and we will meet again, stronger than ever." Rhoam’s growl deepened, with his plates gleaming despite their scars, his strength was bolstering Darius’s courage.

They clasped hands, their Veilbane Medals clinked softly, their unity was a flame that burned bright despite the separation, their scars was a shared testament to their strength forged in the Rift.

As they parted, the Sanctum’s runes were dimmed further with the gates’ glow fading into twilight as the atmosphere was heavy with the bittersweet weight of departure, students dispersing like embers into the night.