Rowan froze mid-step. The hairs on his arms rose under his cloak. 

BOOOOM! 

The sound tore through the clouds, shaking the mountain. Snow exploded across the summit in a whirling blast as a massive shadow dropped from the heavens. The ridge trembled, cracking under the impact, and Rowan stumbled, catching himself on a jagged rock as a storm of white powder burst outward.

The Burlok stood at the center of the summit, steam hissing off its hide where snow dared touch. Larger than any creature Rowan had ever imagined, it stretched its wings with a creak like straining metal. Veins of molten orange lit up its rock like skin, glowing like rivers of fire beneath obsidian scales. Smoke curled from its nostrils in long ribbons, and its eyes, two blazing coals, fixed on the boys with ancient fury.

Ash drifted down from above, black flakes mingling with snowflakes so that dark and light fell together in the still air. The Burlok lowered its head and released another thunderous cry. The sound bounced between the peaks, shaking loose avalanches that tumbled down the cliffs.

Rowan’s heart pounded. He had read of creatures like this as a child, dreamed of them in bedtime tales. But here, feeling the heat, tasting the ash, hearing its roar, it was no story. It was real.

The dragon stepped forward, claws crunching through stone. When it opened its jaws, Rowan expected fire. Instead, deep within, a strange green light pulsed. 

Rowan gasped. “It’s inside…” His voice quivered with awe. “That’s the Unity Koro!”

The Burlok’s chest swelled.

“Rowan, move!” Bjorn shouted.

The boys dove behind a jut of rock just as the beast unleashed its fury. Fire erupted in a torrent, roaring across the summit. Snow turned to steam with a HISSSSS! The ice cracked apart and shattered. Rowan curled into himself as heat washed over them, his cloak smoldering at the edges. The mountain groaned, quaking under the blast.

When silence finally returned, Rowan dared to peek out. The once-white summit was scorched and broken, black stone steaming in jagged patches. Smoke coiled from cracks in the ground, and the Burlok stood in the center of a melted ring.

Bjorn rose slowly. “It’s guarding it,” he murmured. “Like a dragon keeping treasure.”

Rowan pulled the compass out of his pocket. The needle spun and then locked, pointing straight at the glowing chest of the Burlok.

“It’s not just close,” Rowan said. “It’s inside.”

Bjorn’s eyes widened. “Wait… you mean we have to take the Koro out of that thing?”

Rowan nodded. “We’re not leaving this mountain without it.”

The Burlok lifted its massive head, wings stretching so wide they seemed to scrape the sky. A rush of wind and snow whipped across the summit as it slammed its tail against the rocks. The ledge cracked like thin ice under its weight.

Rowan’s legs trembled, but he didn’t back away. The fear, the heat, the impossible task, all of it pressed down on him. Yet beneath it, something more substantial began to rise. He stretched out a hand, and the air stirred. The wind was coming back. 

With a sudden lunge, the Burlok charged. Rowan dove aside. Heat rushed past, licking at the edges of his cloak and leaving the fabric smoking. His boots scraped across blackened stone, arms flailing for balance until he spun and planted his feet. He thrust both hands forward.

“Whirlburst!”

A swirling blast shot from his palms, snow and ash whipping into a furious spiral. The whirlwind slammed into the Burlok’s face. Its inner fire flickered for a moment, and the beast snarled, steam curling from its nose.

“Over here, lava-breath!” Bjorn’s voice rang out.

A small coo came from the frost phoenix that was on Bjorn’s shoulder, as he scrambled onto a ridge and swung his axe with a sharp crack. Ice shattered above the Burlok’s claw, and a heavy cascade of snow and stone thundered down, burying its leg. The Burlok roared in surprise, thrashing as its tail smashed the heap apart, shards of ice flying in every direction.

“Nice one!” Rowan shouted, sprinting along the edge of the summit. His chest burned, heat and smoke filling his lungs.

The Burlok’s wings beat with a thunderous whump, sparks and snow whirling together in a storm. Fire streaked across the ground, chasing Rowan’s heels. He dove behind a boulder, coughing as smoke swirled around him.

“We can’t beat it head-on!” Rowan yelled.

“Then we have to outsmart it!” Bjorn cried back. He ducked under a massive swipe, grabbed a rock, and hurled it at the beast’s snout. The stone clattered off its scales, harmless, but enough.

The Burlok’s burning eyes locked onto him. Its tail struck the ground with a crack like thunder. Bjorn was flung through the air and crashed into a snowbank, sending up a puff of white. He groaned, staggering to his feet with his axe still clenched tight. The frost phoenix slowly fluttered next to him.

Rowan climbed onto a ledge, nearly slipping on the ice. He raised his arms, wind curling around him and pulling snow into a spiral. He released the blast, aiming for the Burlok’s eyes. The snow hissed against its face, blinding it momentarily. The dragon roared in frustration, shaking its head violently.

Bjorn scrambled up a higher ridge. “We’ve got to trap it!”

The Burlok’s chest glowed brighter, orange light blazing through its scales.

Rowan’s eyes widened. “It’s charging again!”

The beast opened its jaws, fire rushing out in a torrent. Flames ripped across the summit, chasing them through the smoke. Rowan dove, sliding across the icy ground. The heat seared past, singing the edge of Bjorn’s cloak as he shielded his face.

They were out of breath. Out of cover. And almost out of time. Then, a sharp cry split the clouds. Rowan looked up. Through the smoke streaked a comet of blue light, wings aglow as it cut across the sky.

“Harvey!” Rowan shouted.

Bjorn spun toward him. “Who’s Harvey?”

Rowan’s face turned red. “The frost phoenix! I don’t know, it just came out.”

For a moment, Bjorn stared at him. Then he broke into a grin. “Harvey. I actually kind of like it.”

Harvey swept through the night sky, his feathers shining like shards of ice beneath the moon. With a cry that pierced the storm, Harvey circled the summit once, then tucked his wings and dove.

The Burlok turned, its massive wings snapping open. It lowered its head, ready to strike. But Harvey spread his feathers wide and unleashed a shriek that rang through the peaks. A wave of freezing wind burst from his body, spiraling forward in a rush of frost.

The icy storm struck the Burlok with full force. Crystals spun through the air, twisting into sharp spirals that wound around its wings, neck, and claws. Steam hissed where the frost clashed against molten scales.

The dragon roared, its cry shaking the stone beneath their feet. But the frost only spread faster, crawling like vines across its body. Its wings locked in place mid-beat, and its legs shuddered as the weight of the ice dragged it down.

The Burlok tried to breathe, but frost sealed its jaws halfway shut. A muffled growl rumbled in its chest before it toppled backward. The ground thundered as its massive frame slammed against the summit and slid to a stop.

Rowan and Bjorn stood frozen. Wisps of steam curled up from the Burlok’s scales, fading into the night sky. Its eyes still glowed faintly, but the fire had dimmed to embers. Harvey circled above them, his wings trailing snowflakes that sparkled as they drifted down. He gave a soft, gentle chirp before landing nearby. The light along his feathers shimmered like starlight.

Bjorn lowered his axe, his voice hushed. “He… he froze it.”

Rowan glanced at the compass in his hand. The needle didn’t waver. It pointed straight toward the Burlok’s mouth. His heart thudded in his chest. “This is our chance,” he whispered.

He stepped forward, boots crunching on the mix of ash and ice. Heat still seeped from the Burlok’s body, turning the snow beneath it into dark puddles that steamed against the cold air. The green glow inside the beast’s throat glowed like a living jewel. 

Bjorn hurried to his side. “Rowan… are you really going to do this?”

Rowan didn’t answer right away. His gaze met the Burlok’s eyes. The fury was gone. In its place was something calmer.

“It’s not just a monster,” Rowan said softly. “It wasn’t guarding the Koro from us. It was waiting. Waiting for someone to take it.”

Bjorn shrugged. “Waiting? For what?”

“For this,” Rowan said. “The Unity Koro doesn’t just sit and wait to be found. It watches. It tests. It chooses.”

The wind stirred around them, brushing Rowan’s cloak as though urging him on. “I have to try.”

Bjorn hesitated, then gave a firm nod. “Then I’ve got your back.”

Rowan placed his hand on the Burlok’s snout. The scales burned hot against his skin, but he kept climbing. The Burlok did not move, as it knew what came next.

Rowan crouched and stepped carefully along the broad ridge of its head. The glow grew brighter with each step, flooding the jaws with green light that painted shifting shadows across the fangs. Nestled deep inside, the Koro pulsed like a gem set in a crown of bone and flame.

Rowan stopped. His breath clouded the air as his mind filled with memories: the frozen Seekers lying half-buried in the snow, the shimmer, the tower in the trees, the lonely ruins of Hollowmere.

The Koro was waiting.

So many had come before him. And so many had failed. Rowan’s legs trembled, his hands curling into fists. But he wasn’t the uncertain boy from the Zyranth anymore. He wasn’t chasing after old tales. He was standing inside one.

“I can do this,” he whispered.

He reached out slowly. His fingers shook, but the warmth radiating from the Koro steadied him. It wasn’t searing like fire. It was gentle, like sunlight on spring grass. The instant his fingertips brushed the stone, the world ignited.

A brilliant green beam shot into the heavens, splitting the clouds like a sword of light. The summit glowed as if day had broken on the mountain top. Rowan shut his eyes against the dazzling blaze as the wind roared awake, swirling snow, ice, and ash high into the sky. The storm glittered around him like sparks scattered from a great fire.

Bjorn staggered back, shouting, “Rowan!”

The Unity Koro lifted free from the Burlok’s throat and floated above Rowan’s outstretched hand, spinning slowly. Its surface shimmered with strange patterns, curling like letters from a forgotten language. The winds spiraled upward, tugging Rowan’s cloak and lifting his hair until he stood at the eye of the storm.

He opened his eyes, and the Koro drifted down and settled into his palm. The moment it touched his skin, a pulse of light surged inward. Rowan gasped as the energy rushed through him, warm and wild, like music that only he could hear.

Then the mountain stilled. The wind quieted. The snow fell softly again. Silence spread across the summit. Rowan dropped to his knees. The Koro glowed faintly in his grasp, steady and calm. It belonged there.

Behind him, the Burlok let out one long breath, lowering its head to the ground. Its eyes dimmed from blazing fire to a soft, ember-orange. Then it went still. Not broken and not defeated, simply finished.

Bjorn hurried to Rowan’s side, dropping to his knees. “Are you okay? Say something!”

Rowan looked up. “I think… I think it accepted me.”

Harvey landed nearby. His glowing blue eyes watched him closely as he ruffled his feathers and let out a gentle, satisfied chirp.

Snow drifted down in quiet flakes, sparkling like tiny stars. Rowan stared at the Unity Koro in his hand. Its glow spilled across the stones, shimmered in the mist, and even caught in the faint stars above. For the first time, the whole mountain seemed more straightforward, as if it, too, had been waiting for this moment.

Bjorn stepped beside him. “We did it!” 

Rowan nodded. The weight of the climb, the battles, and the frozen Seekers all pressed on his mind. Yet with the Koro warm in his hand, the heaviness lifted, replaced by a steady courage. The wind sighed over the ridge, not harsh this time, but gentle, almost guiding.

Rowan tucked the Unity Koro safely into his pack. “Come on,” he said. “It’s time to go back down.”

Bjorn gave a small smile. “At least the mountain can’t throw anything worse at us.”

Rowan pulled the compass from his pocket. The needle spun once, wavered, then snapped into place, pointing east.

He and Bjorn exchanged a look. Together, they turned and found another path leading from the summit, a narrow trail etched into the snow. Without a word, they started down.