Chapter 5:
The doors of the testing chamber slid open with a soft hiss of released glyphs.
Elian stepped out slowly, his steps unsteady. His palms still trembled from the echo of flame that had answered his voice—his grandfather's Codex still pulsing faintly in his grasp. The heat had vanished, but not the weight.
Behind him, the murmurs of astonished observers still hung in the air like unsettled ink.
The moment the door fully closed, Lyra fluttered beside his shoulder with a puffed expression, arms crossed and wings twitching.
She jabbed her finger into his ear.
"Why didn't you tell me you were already Inkbound when we signed the contract?!"
Elian recoiled with a wince. "Ow! I didn't know, alright?! I didn't even know what an Inkbound was until two days ago!"
"You're unbelievable," she snapped, but the irritation faded quickly into confusion. "Still… this doesn't make sense. You shouldn't have been able to call that Codex unless you were fully registered. You bonded with mine first… and that's supposed to be exclusive."
He sighed, rubbing his temple as they exited the main corridor into a quieter wing of the library. The hallway stretched with polished stone and hanging lanterns of blue aetherlight. At the far end was a simple wooden door bearing a symbol of quill and ink.
The dormitory.
Merrin had guided him here earlier, saying it would serve as temporary quarters.
"I didn't choose this," Elian muttered. "When the test started, I reached for the wrong book in my bag. I panicked. Next thing I knew… I said Ignis. And that book—it just opened like it knew me."
Lyra hovered in front of him, brow furrowed. "That wasn't just any book. That was a legacy-class Codex. Combat Reciter grade. And it responded like it had been waiting."
Elian lowered his eyes. "It belonged to my grandfather. Elias Thorne."
Lyra blinked. "Elias... Thorne? The Flame-Tongue?"
He nodded silently.
The fairy whistled low. "That… explains a lot."
They reached the dormitory and stepped inside. The room was modest—a single bed, a writing desk, and a window overlooking a garden of glowing moss. A tall shelf of untouched books lined the left wall, while a basin and mirror occupied the right.
Elian sat on the edge of the bed and finally let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
Lyra landed softly beside him, folding her wings. "Elian… this changes everything. You're not just a Newbound anymore. You've awakened a legacy imprint."
He looked at her. "What does that mean for me?"
"It means you carry two bindings now—mine, and his. That's… unprecedented." She paused. "We need to tell Ysmeil."
Elian stiffened. "Can't we wait? Just a day? I want to breathe."
A beat passed. Then Lyra floated a little closer, her expression softening.
"…That book shouldn't have responded to you so fast. Even with blood ties, Codices—especially custom ones—don't just awaken without consent."
Elian hesitated. "I don't remember much from when I was a kid… just flashes. But I was always in the store. My parents used to leave me there with him."
He paused. "There was a… girl. Glowing. Wings like ink. I used to see her floating by the upper shelves."
Lyra's wings stiffened. "You saw Elias's fairy?"
"I think so. She used to play with me. One time, when my grandfather was busy, she asked if I wanted to make a promise. I said yes."
Lyra's glow dimmed. "You… made a contract. Back then."
"I guess I did," he said. "But I don't remember anything after that. I just remember waking up with a nosebleed, and my grandfather yelling."
"She tried to bind you too early," Lyra whispered. "You were just a child."
"…He must've erased the memory."
Lyra nodded slowly. "With the help of his fairy. That's why the bond never fully dissolved. It was dormant. Waiting."
A knock echoed from the door.
Lyra zipped up, startled.
Merrin peeked in. Her usual cheer was gone, replaced by a more formal calm. "Sorry to interrupt, Elian. But Ysmeil's requesting you. They've made arrangements."
He stood slowly. "Arrangements?"
Merrin nodded. "For your transfer. You're being sent to the Scriptorium Athenaeum."
Lyra's wings twitched again. "The Academy?"
"Yes," Merrin confirmed. "Tomorrow morning."
Elian stared. "Just like that?"
"The council moved fast. After what they saw today, they believe your case is… unique. You'll receive full novice accommodations and begin formal training as an Inkbound. All expenses covered."
Lyra's glow dimmed, then steadied. "Well. That's… something."
Merrin smiled faintly. "You'll be the talk of the archives for weeks."
As she left them alone again, Elian sat back down slowly, his thoughts spinning.
Lyra settled on the headboard. "Looks like the real journey's about to begin."
He looked toward the window. The moss beyond swayed gently.
Tomorrow, he would leave the Archives behind.
And enter a world written in ink, legacy, and mystery.