"Some fires aren't meant to destroy. Some only ask that you endure."
The fire had burned low by the time Kaelen stirred.
Ash clung to his cloak, and the faint chill of dawn traced its way along the back of his neck. Across the dying embers, Selene slept lightly, her form curled in a posture that looked too practiced—like someone who'd learned long ago never to fully relax.
He watched her, quietly.
Her breathing was slow, almost measured, like she was forcing herself to remain calm even in sleep. One hand was still half-extended from the night before, as if she'd forgotten she'd let it rest near his.
Kaelen didn't reach out.
But part of him wanted to.
They broke camp without much talk. Selene had returned to her usual quiet—watchful, poised, calculating—and Kaelen didn't press.
Still, something between them had changed. Not spoken aloud, but felt.
The distance they walked that morning wasn't silence—it was stillness.
Later, as they stopped beside a flat stretch of riverbank, Selene finally spoke.
"You need to learn control."
Kaelen looked up. "Control of what?"
"Your flame. Your focus. You've been relying too much on instinct. That'll kill you when instinct turns on you."
She stepped into the clearing, pulling off her gloves, her expression calm.
"I'll show you something simple. A foundational glyph. One of the five pillars."
Kaelen raised a brow. "We're doing this now?"
Selene smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "We always start when you're not ready. That's how the Tower taught us."
He stepped forward, exhaling slowly. "Alright. Teach me."
She knelt and drew a clean symbol into the earth with her finger—three overlapping lines, encircled twice. The moment it was complete, the dirt around it vibrated softly, and steam hissed from the center.
"This is Yevan. The Glyph of Containment. It's a base structure in most sigil chains. Keeps your magic from bleeding out."
She handed him a charcoal stick from her pouch.
"Now you draw it."
Kaelen crouched beside her, mirroring her strokes. His hands were steady, but something in him trembled.
Halfway through, he glanced up. She was watching him. Carefully. Closely.
He swallowed. "Why are you really teaching me this?"
"Because last time you let Veritas flare unchecked, it nearly consumed you. And because…" She hesitated. "Because I've started to care what happens to you."
The lines he was drawing faltered.
Kaelen's throat tightened.
"That's not fair," he said quietly.
Selene tilted her head. "Why not?"
"Because you say things like that, then pull away. You tell me not to trust you, then protect me. You say I'm dangerous, then sleep within arm's reach."
Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Because I'm not supposed to be this close to anyone."
He looked at her. Really looked at her.
"You already are."
The silence after that wasn't cold—it was warm. Sharp-edged. Alive.
Selene stood, brushing dirt from her hands.
"You almost got the glyph right. You drew the third circle too tight. Try again."
Kaelen blinked. "...That's it?"
She turned her back to him, hair swaying gently in the wind. "We're still training."
He smirked.
"Fine," he muttered. "But if I burn the riverbank, I'm blaming you."
They spent the next hour trading glyphs.
Selene shifted between teacher and sparring partner with ease. She corrected his stances, flicked his wrist when he got too tense, and more than once, made him stumble into the dirt with a rune-triggered gust of air.
Each time, Kaelen laughed a little more.
And Selene… smiled a little longer.
Just past midday, a shadow passed overhead.
Selene stiffened immediately. Her hand flew to the hilt at her side, and Kaelen followed her gaze.
Above, circling once before disappearing behind the trees, was a sleek, black-winged familiar.
Not natural.
Not local.
Selene cursed under her breath.
"That's a scout. From the Circle."
Kaelen stood quickly. "Did it see us?"
"Probably. We need to move. Now."
They ran, following the river upstream, boots splashing through mud and shallow pools. The trees grew dense, roots rising like veins from the earth. The sigil in Kaelen's palm thrummed faintly, reacting to something ahead.
Selene noticed.
"You feel that too?"
He nodded. "What is it?"
"A threshold. A warded space. We might be able to lose them if we cross it."
"But what's beyond it?"
"I don't know."
She stopped just short of the invisible line in the grass.
Her hand hovered in front of her, palm open. Glyphs shimmered faintly in her eyes.
Then she turned to him.
"If I step through and something happens to me, don't follow."
Kaelen's jaw clenched.
"Screw that."
She stared at him.
And then—softly—smiled.
"You're impossible."
They stepped through the warded line together.
The world beyond shimmered once.
Then the light dimmed.
And ahead of them, nestled between trees that didn't belong to this realm, was a small stone ruin covered in glyphs that pulsed faintly in silver.
Kaelen breathed in.
The glyphs answered.
His magic pulsed—louder than ever before.
Something old was waking up.