Jade: The Hybrid Mage

Chapter 19: Sky Border

Relief washed over me when I saw Gib stir awake, his small frame twitching beneath the shelter of the Oldlings’ care. His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, he looked confused. Then, with that infuriating little smirk of his, he said, “Takes more than a falling pot to get rid of me, weird woman.”

I choked back a laugh, tears welling in my eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“You like it,” he replied weakly before his eyes closed again, drifting into what looked like a peaceful sleep.

‘He’s alive. He’ll be fine,’ Naila assured me, her voice soft for once.

‘Good,’ I thought, letting out a shaky breath. I had no more tears to spare. Not here, not now.

The hunter assigned to escort me waited nearby, leaning against the rough bark of a tree, his spear resting casually in his hand. His name was Torren, and he’d been silent since we met, his sharp eyes watching everything with a predator’s focus.

“It’s time,” he said simply, his voice as unyielding as the spear he carried.

I glanced back at Kreel one last time. The people, the endless fog, the dangers—it was a world all its own. And yet, it had shaped me in ways I couldn’t yet understand.

‘Goodbye, Kreel,’ I thought, turning away.

:~*~:

The journey to the Sky Border was faster than I’d expected. Torren moved with purpose, his long strides eating up the ground as I struggled to keep up.

“Keep close,” he warned as we passed a grove of twisted trees. Their gnarled branches seemed to reach for us, their bark oozing a dark, sap-like substance.

“What are those?” I asked, my voice hushed.

“Shadowtrees. They don’t move, but their sap attracts things that do. Keep walking.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

The terrain shifted as we moved closer to the Sky Border. The oppressive fog of Kreel began to thin, revealing rolling hills and jagged cliffs. The air grew colder, sharper, and I felt a strange energy humming beneath my skin.

“We’re close,” Torren said, his voice low. “Do not speak unless spoken to. The Watchers aren’t like us.”

I nodded, gripping Blooby’s metal frame for comfort. He’d been quiet the whole journey, his glowing eyes scanning our surroundings as though he expected an ambush at any moment.

Then, I saw it . . . the Sky Border, and my breath hitched.

It was nothing like the walls of Kreel.

The Sky Border was a masterpiece—a monument to magic and engineering, towering into the heavens until its peak vanished into the clouds. Its surface glimmered with an otherworldly sheen, a blend of light and shadow that seemed alive. Runes etched into its structure shifted and rearranged themselves as though they were breathing. Energy pulsed faintly beneath its surface, each vibration thrumming through my chest like a second heartbeat.

'This isn’t just a border. It’s alive,' I thought, unable to tear my gaze away.

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Torren, the hunter who had escorted me, stopped beside me, his voice tinged with awe.

“It’s . . . unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” I whispered.

“Gyrange built it centuries ago at the height of his magic engineering career,” he said. “The Sky Border isn’t just a defense—it’s a home, a fortress, and a weapon all in one. It has kept this region safe for generations. Nothing gets past it—not beasts, armies, or magic.”

“I wonder how they manage to maintain such a magnificent structure,” I said, still captivated.

“There are five magic engineers stationed here to ensure it stays functional. But even they can only understand fragments of what Gyrange created. It’s said he used xylnaziom, the strongest material known to man—impenetrable, indestructible.”

I glanced at him, curious. “How do you know so much about it?”

Torren smirked faintly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess you’re wondering how someone from Kreel knows all this.” He paused, his gaze distant for a moment before returning to me. “Ever since my magic traits appeared when I was eleven, I’ve read as much as I can about the Sky Border. I wish to become one of them once I awaken my magic. I turn eighteen in a few months, you see.”

I blinked, startled. “Eighteen?”

“Yes,” he said, raising a brow. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

I hesitated, then blurted, “I thought you were almost thirty.”

He burst out laughing, a deep, genuine sound that echoed across the clearing. “That’s a first. Life in Kreel does have a way of aging us quickly, doesn’t it?”

I managed a small smile, but his words stirred something in me. Magic traits . . . my veins . . .

A memory flashed in my mind. When I was thirteen, I’d noticed the veins on my arms darkening, like thin shadows had crept under my skin. It scared me then, and I’d run to my father, worried that something was wrong.

He’d only chuckled, ruffling my hair as he always did. “Don’t worry, Jade,” he’d said. “It’s a good sign. You’re healthy and strong.”

I hadn’t understood at the time, but now it made sense. That was the moment my magic traits had appeared. The realization hit me like a wave, a mixture of wonder and confusion. Why hadn’t my father told me the truth? Did he know what it meant?

Torren’s voice pulled me back to the present. “It’s the first sign. If they don’t show before you turn eighteen, you’ll never awaken magic. It’s rare for someone from Kreel to awaken, but I’m holding onto hope.”

I glanced at his faintly darkened veins, a mirror of what I’d once seen on my own arms. He carried his ambition quietly, like a treasure he was too afraid to show the world.

“Well,” he said, his voice turning more serious, “this is where I leave you. The Watchers don’t welcome outsiders lightly.”

“What do you mean? Aren’t they expecting me?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, a sharp whistle sliced through the air.

I turned to see them—Watchers, emerging from the shimmering surface of the wall.

Their presence was commanding. They moved with precision, their black armor gleaming in the fading sunlight, weapons glowing faintly with a restrained power. The air seemed to hum around them, a tangible aura of authority. One of them stepped forward, a woman with a scar slashing diagonally across her right eye. Her cape billowed slightly as she moved, and the tattoo of an eagle’s wing marked her cheek, exactly as the stories had described.

I recognized her immediately—the mage from before, the one whose magic can command thick vines from the earth. Her presence was commanding, her gaze piercing.

“You made it,” she said, her voice smooth and calm. "The commander will be pleased.”

“Kema?” My heart skipped a beat at the thought of meeting him soon.

“First, we must inspect you,” she continued, ignoring my question.

Two Watchers approached, their glowing eyes scanning me with precision. Their helmets concealed their faces, adding to their intimidating presence. I held my breath as one paused, his gaze lingering on my hand.

“The mark,” he said, his voice distorted but clear.

The scarred mage stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as they fixed on the tortoise symbol etched into my palm. “Interesting,” she murmured.

“What does it mean?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

Her expression gave nothing away. “It means you have much to explain. But that’s for later.” She turned to the others. “She’s clean. Let her through.”

“What about Blooby?” I asked, clutching the small mechanical knight to my chest.

The mage’s gaze softened, if only slightly. “He can come—for now.”

Relief flooded through me as the gleaming surface of the Border parted, allowing us entry.