The air in Silas's garage was thick with the scent of ozone and the rhythmic thrum of Caelum's meditation. He sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor, shirtless, his back a map of silver scars that glowed with a faint, pulsing gold.
Every breath he took was heavy, like he was inhaling molten lead. Since the transfusion, his Eternal Heart felt unbalanced. Giving his blood to Elena hadn't just weakened him; it had transferred a piece of his foundational seal to her. He was no longer a closed system.
"You're pushed too hard," a soft voice said from the shadows.
Caelum didn't open his eyes, but the golden light on his skin flickered. "The tournament doesn't care about my fatigue, Elena. The High Lord's nephew has been fed mana-crystals since he was in the womb. I'm starting from a deficit."
Elena stepped into the light of the flickering mana-bulb. She was wearing a pair of Caelum's spare coveralls, the sleeves rolled up. She looked healthy—vibrant, even—but her eyes were filled with a new kind of guilt.
"Silas told me what you did," she said, kneeling in front of him. "He told me that my life... and the child's... is now anchored to yours. If you die in that arena, we won't survive the night."
Caelum finally opened his eyes. They weren't the eyes of a driver anymore. They were two pits of liquid sun. "Then I suppose I'll have to make sure I don't die."
"Why did you do it?" she asked, her voice trembling. "You could have stayed a ghost. You could have lived a quiet life as a driver for another fifty years. Why throw it all away for a woman who treated you like dirt?"
Caelum stood up, his movement fluid and predatory despite the strain. He walked to the workbench and picked up a heavy iron bar. With a single, casual squeeze of his hand, the iron groaned and twisted into a useless knot.
"Because the world is changing, Elena," Caelum said, looking at the twisted metal. "The Valerius Clan, the Iron Reach... they are old trees with rotten roots. They think power is something you inherit or steal. They've forgotten that real power is something you earn by protecting what matters."
He turned to her, his gaze softening just a fraction. "And for five years, watching you suffer in that mansion was the only thing that made me feel human. Helping you isn't a sacrifice. It's a recovery."
The moment was shattered by a loud bang on the metal shutters of the garage.
Silas came running from the back, holding a mana-scanner that was shrieking a high-pitched warning. "Caelum! We've got a problem. The District Watch is outside. They aren't looking for the girl—they're doing a 'random' inspection of all unlicensed clinics."
"There's no such thing as a random inspection in this District," Caelum muttered. "Arthur Valerius is putting pressure on the local gangs to find us."
"We can't move her yet!" Silas hissed. "She needs one more stabilization treatment or the soul-bond will rupture."
Caelum looked at the shutters, then at Elena. He couldn't fight the District Watch here—if he used his mana, the 'Eye' mages would pinpoint his location in seconds. He had to be invisible one last time.
"Silas, take her to the sub-level," Caelum commanded. "Hide her in the car. Use the lead tarps to mask her signature."
"What about you?" Elena asked, clutching his arm.
"I'm going to go be a 'Driver' again," Caelum said with a grim smile.
He pulled on a grease-stained shirt and walked toward the shutters. As the metal rolled up, six officers in blue-and-grey tactical gear stood there, their mana-rifles leveled at his chest.
"Identify yourself, Commoner," the lead officer barked.
Caelum slumped his shoulders, his eyes turning dull and vacant. He looked like every other overworked, exhausted laborer in the District. "Caelum Ofori. Just a mechanic's assistant, sir. Is there a problem with the permits?"
The officer lowered his rifle slightly, looking at Caelum with pure disdain. "We're looking for a runaway. A high-value asset of the Valerius Clan. You seen anyone matching this description?" He held up a holographic image of Elena.
"Pretty girl like that?" Caelum scratched his head, playing the part of the fool perfectly. "If I saw her, I wouldn't be standing here talking to you. I'd be halfway to the Southern Coast trying to marry her."
The officers laughed—a cruel, mocking sound. "As if a dog like you could even touch her shadow. Search the place! If you find so much as a strand of blonde hair, burn the whole shop down."
As the officers pushed past him, Caelum stood by the door, his heart beating a slow, steady rhythm. Every time an officer got close to the sub-level entrance, his hand twitched toward the hilt of a hidden knife.
He was walking a razor's edge. One mistake, and the tournament wouldn't matter—the war would start tonight.
Author's Note:
The tension is rising!
Caelum has to hide his power and his wife from the District Watch while being insulted to his face. Will he crack, or will his 'Sovereign' patience hold out?