The force hit him like a god's hand closing around his ribs.
Kael's breath vanished. His body jerked up off the ground, dragged through the air as if hooked by an invisible chain. Instinct roared awake—his Crucible flared, and the Sundering Flame Art surged on its own. Vitae flooded his channels in a violent rush, heat snapping through his limbs as he twisted midair, fighting the pull.
He rolled, kicked, tried to slip the grip.
Nothing.
The pressure tightened.
Not crushing—worse than that. Controlled. Precise. Like a butcher deciding exactly how much strength to use before the cut.
Varek Smolden's eyes narrowed a fraction.
A flicker of surprise.
The boy could still move.
His sleeve turned.
Vitae surged again—thicker this time, heavier. The invisible grip clenched down harder, dragging Kael straight toward him.
"Wait!"
Lyra's voice cut in sharp and sudden.
Too late.
The pressure spiked.
Kael's chest locked. Breath stalled halfway in. Pain spread through his ribs like iron bands tightening. His vision flickered—
His hands snapped into a seal.
Fire burst into being.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of small blazing forms exploded into existence around him, each one shaped like a bird mid-flight. They shrieked through the air in a storm of flame, racing along the invisible tether that bound him.
The Thousand Fire-Bird Curse.
The grove lit up in a storm of burning wings.
"...Sundering Flame Art?" Varek murmured.
He didn't dodge.
Didn't even shift his stance.
His sleeve flicked.
The other one.
A casual sweep.
The fire-birds struck—and vanished.
Snuffed out like sparks in a gale.
Gone. Every last one.
Kael's heart dropped.
No effect.
Not even enough to slow him.
The pull yanked him the final distance. The world blurred. Then he was right there—face to face with the armless elder.
Varek's sleeve snapped forward.
Straight at his chest.
Kael's blood went cold.
Lyra moved.
"Elder Frater, don't—he's—!"
Her hand cut through the air, two fingers extended, striking for the sleeve—
Varek smiled.
His sleeves shifted again.
Effortless.
Lyra's strike missed its mark. Something invisible tightened around her wrist—her body jolted, half of it going slack, strength draining out of her limbs in an instant.
Kael never saw the rest.
The sleeve touched him.
Just brushed him.
Everything went out.
His strength. His breath. His fire. All of it—snuffed clean.
His knees hit the ground.
Hard.
He collapsed there, body limp, lungs heaving but unable to draw a full breath. It felt like his channels had been scraped empty, like something had reached inside and simply turned him off.
Varek looked down at him.
And smiled.
"Not bad," he said mildly. "Shallow power. Quick mind."
Lyra let out a breath, tension draining from her shoulders. She pressed a hand to her chest, half-laughing.
"You're cruel, Elder Frater. You nearly killed him."
Varek's sleeves settled.
The pressure vanished.
Kael felt it immediately—like a plug pulled free. Air rushed back into his lungs. Strength returned in a flood, shaky but real.
He sucked in a breath and immediately dropped forward, pressing his forehead to the ground.
"Disciple Kael Ashvane… greets Sixth Elder-Uncle."
"Kael… Ashvane?" Varek repeated.
A pause.
"Stand."
Kael pushed himself up, still a little unsteady, but grinning already—because of course he was.
"Sixth Elder-Uncle lives up to the stories," he said, bright-eyed. "I've wanted to meet you for a long time."
Lyra laughed softly. "You little rat. Hiding and spying. If Elder Frater hadn't recognized your technique, you'd be a corpse right now."
Kael shot her a grin.
"Worth the risk."
Varek's gaze had shifted.
He was studying Kael now.
Properly.
His expression changed—just slightly.
"You bear the Ashvane name?"
"Yes," Kael said easily. "I was an orphan. Master took me in. Gave me her name."
"An orphan…" Varek echoed.
Something in his tone cooled.
"What did you say your name was?"
"Kael."
The elder's eyes sharpened.
The warmth drained out of his face entirely.
He looked Kael up and down again—slower this time. Measuring. Weighing.
Something about that look made Kael's skin crawl.
"...Go," Varek said at last, waving him off. "I have words with your Shreve."
The dismissal hit like a release.
Kael didn't argue.
Didn't ask questions.
He bowed quickly, then backed off—and the moment he judged it polite enough, he turned and got the hell out of there.
Only when the trees swallowed him did he let out the breath he'd been holding.
Behind him, silence lingered.
Then Varek spoke.
"I was told Isara only takes female disciples."
Lyra tilted her head. "So was I. I only met the boy this time at Vane's Summit."
Varek's gaze remained fixed on the direction Kael had gone.
"His foundation… is not merely good," he said slowly. "It is… peculiar."
Lyra smiled faintly. "Third Elder-Aunt said much the same. She thinks he'll go far."
Varek didn't smile back.
"Do you think," he said, voice quiet, "he resembles someone?"
Lyra stilled.
"Resembles… who?"
Varek turned his head.
His eyes burned.
"The brow. The eyes."
Lyra's heart kicked hard in her chest.
Memory flashed—her first glimpse of the boy, that strange, jarring familiarity she hadn't wanted to name.
"No," she said quickly. "That's not—no. It can't be."
Varek let out a soft, humorless breath.
"Can't be?" he said. "The Primordial Sigil has never been accounted for. And that fox… I never believed it truly perished. Not without leaving something behind."
Lyra shook her head harder now, almost violently.
"No. I know him. I—he—no. It's not possible."
Varek watched her.
Long.
Silent.
Lyra's composure cracked under that gaze. Color rose in her cheeks; she took a step back without meaning to.
At last, Varek turned away.
His eyes drifted back to the trees.
His voice, when it came, carried a chill that seemed to frost the air.
"Let us hope," he said, "that boy has nothing to do with that fox."
—
Kael didn't stop running until he was well clear of the grove.
Only then did he slow to a walk, scowling.
The excitement from earlier had burned off completely, leaving behind a sour taste.
"Power like that," he muttered under his breath, "and a temper to match. No wonder Master won't see him."
He kicked a stone off the path, irritation simmering.
Then—
"Idiot! So you're here!"
The voice snapped his head up.
Selene.
Of course.
Only one person in the world called him that with such righteous confidence.
She was already running toward him, skirts flashing, eyes bright.
Kael's mood flipped in an instant.
He grinned wide and stepped forward.
"Missed me that fast?" he called. "Couldn't stand being apart, hm? Knew you'd come running."
He opened his arms.
She slipped past them like water.
"Don't flatter yourself," she shot back. "I came to show you something."
Kael blinked.
"Show me what?"
She lifted her arm.
Something gleamed in her hand.
Kael leaned in—and his eyes widened.
A short blade, sheathed in scaled casing, sat in her grip. Even before she drew it, he could feel the chill leaking from it.
"Master gave you something new?" he asked, intrigued.
Selene shook her head.
"No."
She gripped the hilt with one hand, the sheath with the other—
And pulled.
Light burst out.
Cold hit his face like a slap.
The blade slid free in a flare of brilliance—silver steel veined with blue and red light, the air around it rippling with alternating frost and heat.
Kael squinted, half-blinded.
"Damn," he breathed. "That's a beauty."
Selene lifted it slightly, pride plain on her face.
"It's called the Banishing Ice-Flame Blade," she said. "Forged from North Sea Ice Essence and Flame-Washing Stone. It's killed more things than I can count."
Kael leaned closer, eyes adjusting.
Near the guard, two gems were set into the metal—one blue, one crimson. Light swirled inside them like trapped storms.
"What about those?" he asked.
Selene's grin widened.
"Core stones. Refined by a master artificer. Each one stores a movement art—instant cast. Water and fire. I've already bound an ice-burst into one. You're helping me pick something for the other."
Kael let out a low whistle.
"Not bad," he said. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "Master didn't give it to you, though."
Selene shook her head again.
"I ran into Hadrian on the mountain. He said he couldn't get me a proper weapon back in the Vale. Felt bad about it. So he gave me this. Said it's been in his family for generations."
Kael's smile died.
"...Of course he did."
His tone flattened.
"How generous. Handing out heirlooms now."
Selene didn't catch—or chose not to.
"He's not that bad," she said, admiring the blade again. "You're the only one who keeps finding fault with him."
Kael snorted.
"Yeah. I'm sure you're thrilled."
"I didn't want to take it," she said quickly. "But he insisted. I told him I'd return it after a few days."
Kael paused.
That took some of the edge off.
"...You're giving it back?"
"Of course I am," she said. "It's not mine to keep."
Kael huffed.
"If he's willing to give it, we should take it," he muttered. "No need to be polite."
Selene shot him a look.
"That's his family's blade."
Kael shrugged.
"You said 'we,' though," he pointed out, grinning sideways.
She faltered—just a fraction.
He saw it.
And his grin sharpened.
"That Corvel idiot can throw all the gifts he wants," Kael went on lazily. "Won't win over my Sel."
Selene opened her mouth—
Then stopped.
Something else crossed her mind.
"Oh—right," she said suddenly, looking at him. "That carriage you took from him. When are you giving it back?"
Kael didn't even hesitate.
"Not."
Selene blinked.
"What do you mean, not?"
"He gave it to me," Kael said firmly. "Fair and square. Gratitude for saving his life."
Her eyes narrowed.
"That's not how I remember it."
He looked away.
"Details."
"Kael." Her voice sharpened. "When are you returning it?"
"Not," he repeated, even more firmly.
Silence.
Then, softer—
"You're really not giving it back?"
Something about the way she said it made his stomach tighten.
He turned back.
She was staring at him—calm, but cold.
Kael hesitated.
Just a second.
Then stubbornness kicked in.
"That thing's rare," he said. "Why should I—"
She turned and walked away.
Just like that.
"Hey—wait—!"
He lunged after her, catching her wrist.
"Come on, don't be like that. We can talk about it—"
She yanked her hand, trying to pull free.
"There's nothing to talk about."
He tightened his grip.
"Then we make him trade for it," Kael said quickly. "Something equal. That's fair, right?"
"Let go," she snapped, cheeks flushing.
He didn't.
Not immediately.
His mind raced.
Then—
"…Fine," he said at last, like the word tasted bitter. "I'll give it back."
She stopped struggling.
Turned to look at him.
"Promise?"
Kael's face twisted like he'd swallowed poison.
"…Yeah."
The word came out tight.
She studied him for a moment longer.
Then—
Her expression softened.
Just a little.
She stepped closer.
Tilted her head.
And looked up at him, eyes searching, measuring.
Kael felt his chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with Varek Smolden.
Kael felt like he'd just swallowed a stone.
Selene watched his face twist, and that soft little laugh slipped out of her—light, teasing, but not unkind. Her fingers rose, gentle as drifting water, and pressed against his chest.
"Hurts here, doesn't it?" she murmured.
He forced a grin that didn't quite sit right. "You really think I'm that petty? It was just a carriage. Not like I'd lose sleep over it."
The lie tasted thin even to him.
The Griffin Carriage was gone. That was fact. No changing it now. But if he could at least hold onto his pride, then maybe he hadn't lost everything.
Selene saw straight through him.
"Don't sulk," she said softly. "If you like treasures, you won't be short of them. My mother has more than anyone alive."
Kael snorted. "Yeah, that's exactly the problem. When you've got piles of treasure at home, you don't care about something like that carriage."
Her eyes narrowed. Then—
"You idiot," she snapped, cheeks flushing.
He winced instantly. Wrong move.
Selene bit her lip, staring at him, something hazy and unspoken flickering in her gaze. When she spoke again, her voice had dropped, softer—almost shy.
"Dummy… if you just treat me well…" She hesitated, then pushed on, "…when we reach the capital and meet my mother, I'll ask her for things for you. As many as you want."
By the end, her cheeks were burning pink.
Kael's heart kicked hard in his chest.
Before he could stop himself, he pulled her into his arms.
Just like that, the weight in his gut vanished. He laughed under his breath, low and warm. "Thought you said your mother wasn't easy to meet?"
Selene blinked. "When did I say that?"
"You did. Last time. Said something about me having a pig's brain too."
She froze—then burst into laughter. "That's because you were talking nonsense in front of everyone!"
Ah.
So that was it.
Covering up.
Kael grinned, watching her.
Selene caught the look and frowned. "What are you smiling at?"
"Nothing."
"There is something."
"No, really—"
"There is," she insisted, suddenly uneasy under that gaze. "That smile's… suspicious."
"I'm just happy."
"Happy about what?"
He leaned in, grinning like a rogue. "Happy someone's taking me to meet her mother."
Her entire face exploded red.
"You—! You dare make fun of me!" She started hitting him, fists landing against his chest in rapid little blows. "Idiot! Pig! I'm not taking you anymore!"
Kael didn't dodge. Didn't even try.
He just held her tighter.
"Sel," he breathed, voice rougher now. "I missed you."
Her strikes slowed.
"…Then miss me," she muttered, trying to sound dismissive—but her voice came out breathless, uneven. Her eyes flicked up, meeting his.
Something shifted.
His gaze burned—hot, steady, unmistakable.
Her breath caught. A strange, soft tremor ran through her, like something melting deep inside. Her lashes lowered, lips parting just slightly, head tilting back as if—
Waiting.
Hoping.
And then—
"Let's go to the back mountain," Kael whispered, breath hot against her neck.
Selene froze.
Then jerked in his arms like she'd been shocked.
"You—!" She struggled, flustered and furious all at once. "Is that all you ever think about?!"
He grinned, shameless.
She shoved at him harder—
Footsteps.
Both of them snapped their heads toward the path.
A group of officers in military dress came striding through, fast, tense. Their faces were tight with worry. They barely spared Kael and Selene a glance before hurrying past.
The two separated instantly.
Both red-faced.
"Great timing," Kael muttered.
He reached for her again—but before he could grab her, two more officers passed, just as hurried, just as grim.
Selene frowned, watching them go. "Something's wrong."
"What could be?" Kael shrugged. "That emissary arrived, didn't he? They're probably here to attend him."
She shook her head. "No. Look at them. That's not normal. And not just anyone gets to meet an emissary like that."
Kael didn't care.
Didn't want to care.
"Forget them."
He stepped in again, trying to pull her back.
She shot him a glare. "Still at it? You nearly got us caught just now!"
He leaned close, voice dropping, coaxing, teasing—words flowing smooth as water, sweet as honey.
Selene held firm.
In the end, she sighed and relented—just a little. "I've finished copying all the ward scripts. If you behave, I'll stay with you the whole day."
Kael paused.
Then nodded, reluctantly.
Inside, though, his mind was already working.
A whole day… that's a long time.
Opportunities happen.
—
They didn't leave each other's side.
Not once.
From morning to dusk, they wandered together—talking, laughing, brushing against each other in ways that lingered just a little too long. Like oil melting into honey, slow and thick, impossible to separate.
By nightfall, Kael made his move again.
"Let's take a walk."
Selene didn't refuse.
He led her along winding paths, pointing things out, talking nonsense, steering—always steering—toward quieter, darker corners.
The deeper they went, the quieter it got.
The air shifted.
Kael's thoughts started drifting again, restless, hungry.
He was just about to try his luck—
Selene suddenly clapped her hands.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" She grabbed his hand. "Come, I'll show you something!"
"What is it?"
"You'll see."
She pulled him into the trees.
Kael followed, a grin creeping across his face.
Finally.
"Two treasures," she said over her shoulder.
"Two treasures?" He blinked. "What kind of treasures?"
"Ours."
That made something stir in his chest.
Before he could press further, she slowed, then stopped.
"We're here."
Kael looked around.
Nothing but darkness. Trees. Tall grass.
"What's—"
Selene let go of his hand and stepped forward. Then, without hesitation, she lifted her skirt slightly and knelt, pushing aside the grass.
Light burst out.
Soft at first—then bright, shimmering in shifting colors.
"Come here," she called.
Kael hurried over, crouching beside her.
And then he saw them.
Two massive, oval shapes nestled in the grass—smooth, jade-green shells glowing faintly from within. Colors flowed beneath the surface, like liquid light. Beneath them, several ward-scripts burned with gentle, steady heat.
Recognition hit him.
"Those… aren't those the Phoenix eggs?"
Selene smiled. "They are."
"How did they end up here?"
"I brought them." She glanced at him. "You forgot? We said we'd hatch them."
Kael scratched his head. "…Right. I did forget."
"Of course you did."
He ignored that, eyes locked on the eggs. "What's with the wards underneath?"
"The Springwarm Ward," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. "It helps incubate bird eggs. I made them."
"You made those?" His jaw nearly dropped.
She held it for a moment—then broke, laughing. "Fine, fine. Elder Soror Sylva taught me. I asked her after I couldn't figure it out myself."
Kael leaned closer, studying the eggs.
"…They're glowing."
"They weren't before," Selene said, excitement building. "That means they're developing. Growing. When they hatch… they'll be just like their parents."
Kael felt it then.
Belief.
Real, solid belief.
"If they hatch…" he said slowly, "we'll have two of them."
Selene's expression softened, something warm and tender filling her eyes. "Their parents are gone. So we'll raise them."
Kael grinned. "Then we're their parents."
She didn't argue.
Didn't even blush this time.
He leaned in, voice low, playful, but edged with something deeper. "We'll protect them. Feed them. Raise them up until one day they soar above everything—"
He stopped.
Looked at her.
Selene met his gaze, quiet, waiting. "And then?"
"Then we each ride one," he said softly, eyes distant now. "Travel the world. See everything. Together. Never apart."
The moon slipped free of the clouds.
Silver light washed over them.
Selene clasped her hands against her chest, eyes shining, lost in the picture he painted. "That sounds… wonderful."
Kael smiled.
Slow. Meaningful.
"Then let's celebrate in advance."
She looked at him, bright and open. "How?"
"Sel…"
His voice dropped.
Rougher now.
He stepped forward.
Arms opening.
She didn't pull away this time.
And the night closed in around them.