The training room wasn't in the basement anymore.
After the truce, they'd moved it to the old greenhouse behind Luna's house—glass walls fogged with morning dew, ivy creeping over support beams, sunlight filtering through in soft gold bars. It looked peaceful. Almost gentle.
It wasn't.
Inside, five-year-old Luna sat cross-legged on a woven mat, eyes closed, palms upturned. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cool air. Around her, four figures stood at cardinal points—silent, watchful.
Lysander in the north, robe hem dusted with ash from the Citadel archives.
Victoria in the east, arms folded, posture rigid but eyes softer than usual.
Kai in the south, leaning against a beam, pretending to scroll through a tablet—but his gaze never left Luna.
And Miko in the west, barefoot, humming a low tune that made the air shimmer faintly.
This was Day 6 of the "Harmony Protocol"—a joint training regimen designed to prepare Luna not just to understand the Weave, but to hold it.
