CHAPTER SIX: THE DORMS THAT REMEMBER (Part three)
Zephryn sat on the edge of his bed, but he didn't rest.
His eyes stayed on Selka.
On the way her shoulders dipped—barely.
On the way her fingers brushed against the empty shelf—like she expected the journal to still be there.
The lullaby still hung in the air, even though her voice had gone quiet.
Not a song.
Not a memory.
A thread.
And it had wrapped itself around him.
Kaelen had gone still too.
The notebook rested in his lap, forgotten now.
He looked at Yolti.
She hadn't moved either.
Something was different about the room tonight.
Not just because Zephryn was here.
Because something else had returned with him.
Something even he hadn't brought consciously.
Selka sat slowly, folding her legs beneath her, gaze distant.
"Sometimes," she said, "I think this place knew you were coming back before we did."
Zephryn blinked.
"What do you mean?"
She didn't answer right away.
Just ran her hand across the floorboards beneath her.
"There were nights the wind would push the windows open," she murmured, "but only your bed would turn cold."
Kaelen muttered, "That's just the vent."
Selka shook her head.
"No. It wasn't."
Bubbalor shifted by the wall.
Its eye shimmered—not in light, but in memory.
It made no sound.
But Zephryn felt something rise in his chest.
He stood slowly, walked to the center of the dorm.
Looked at the walls. The beds. The floor.
Then down at his hand.
He hadn't realized it until now—
His pulse mark was glowing.
Not flaring.
Not screaming.
Just… responding.
Yolti stood, moving beside him.
"Zeph," she said carefully, "that's the first time it's done that since…"
She didn't finish.
She didn't have to.
He looked at it.
And the mark shimmered once more—
then dimmed.
But not because it was retreating.
Because the room had remembered him.
And it no longer needed to test if he belonged.