The ground beneath my feet hums with power, my shield holding steady for now. But the sound of the tributes' footsteps—louder now, closer—is like a hammer pounding against the fragile walls of my focus.

Focus. Focus.

I close my eyes, feeling the magic swell inside me. It's there—beneath my skin, humming like a pulse, like blood in my veins. It responds to my command. But as I hold onto it, the air around me thickens, the pressure mounting.

I can't do this for long. I know that. I feel the magic straining, like it's pushing against me, testing my limits.

"Emerald…" Xander's voice is barely a whisper, his eyes flicking to the edge of the trees. He's watching for movement, for any sign of the tributes, but his gaze keeps returning to me, uncertain. "How much longer?"

"I don't know," I say through gritted teeth. "I don't know how long I can hold this."

The shield I've created is like a wall of solid earth, a barrier of wind and stone that's swirling and vibrating around us. It's imperfect, shaky—but it's enough to keep the tributes at bay for now.

I try to breathe, but my chest feels tight, the weight of the magic pressing down on me. I can feel it—it's restless, eager to burst free. But I can't let it. Not yet.

The footsteps grow louder. I look through the shield, my eyes narrowing as I spot movement through the trees—a blur of dark shapes, shadows darting between the trunks. They're close. Too close.

"They're almost here," I say, my voice strained. I try to keep calm, but the magic responds to my anxiety. It surges in a violent wave. The ground shakes again, a low tremor that travels through my feet.

I stagger, grabbing Xander's arm for balance, but it's too late. The shield is slipping. The wind picks up again, howling as if the earth itself is protesting.

No. Not now.

"Emerald!" Xander shouts, his grip tightening on my arm. His eyes are wide with panic. "You need to stop this—now!"

I try to pull back, but the power is too strong, too wild. The shield is collapsing. The wind rips through it like paper, tearing apart my fragile defenses.

And then, in a flash, it happens.

The magic explodes.

I can feel the energy unraveling like a storm breaking loose. The wind howls through the forest, faster, fiercer, and I can't hold it back. The trees bend under the pressure, their branches snapping with a sharp crack. The earth cracks open once again, jagged and deep, as if the very ground is coming apart beneath me.

I scream, the force of the magic tearing through me, and I can feel it—everything—ripping free. The wind, the earth, the storm I've created—all of it is swirling around me, uncontrolled, too much for me to contain.

And then… it's gone.

Silence.

I stagger backward, my legs giving out beneath me. I hit the ground hard, breathless, my body numb. The magic still pulses in the air, but it's lessened now—diluted, like the fading echo of a storm.

For a moment, I can't move. I'm frozen, my heart hammering in my chest, my breath ragged.

But I hear it then. A sound cutting through the silence. A voice.

"Well, well, what do we have here?"

I don't need to look up to know who it is.

The tributes.

There's no time to hide, no time to run. We're trapped.

I blink, trying to focus through the haze of magic, trying to steady my breath. My powers are still humming beneath my skin, thrumming in the air, but they're exhausted. Like me.

Xander's hand is on my shoulder, pulling me up. He's looking at me, his face a mix of concern and urgency. "Emerald, we need to move. Now."

I nod, but I can't seem to find my legs. The world is spinning around me, the ground still trembling beneath my feet. The tributes are closing in fast. I can hear their voices now, sharp and clear.

A man's voice: "There she is. The one with the magic."

A woman's voice, smooth and cold: "She won't get far."

My pulse quickens. My powers are too weak to defend us now. We need to run. We need to escape.

But I can't seem to focus, can't seem to get the magic under control. It's still buzzing around me like a swarm of bees, restless and unpredictable. I close my eyes, trying to center myself, trying to feel the magic again.

I feel the wind brush against my skin—like a whisper, a tug. I reach for it. This time, I control it.

I focus. The wind responds. I feel the air shift around us, thickening, compressing. I concentrate harder, forcing the air to move, to block our pursuers.

And then, the ground shakes again.

But this time, it's not from my magic.

This time, it's something else.

A rumble. Deep. Terrifying.

I open my eyes just as the earth splits.

A massive crack erupts beneath me, splitting the ground wide open, sending jagged rocks flying in every direction. The tributes scream, but it's too late. The ground beneath them gives way, and they're swallowed by the rift.

I blink, stunned. Did I do that?

Xander grabs my arm, pulling me back as the ground shakes again, the rift widening, the forest trembling under the force of it. "Emerald, we have to go—now!"

We turn and run, hearts pounding, lungs burning, as the ground splits and cracks behind us. I hear the tributes screaming, their voices fading as the rift swallows the forest.

We run faster.

But the storm inside me still rages. And I can't shake the feeling that this is only the beginning.