The light reached the capital before the thunder did.
From the highest balcony of the Citadel of Glass, Queen Maelis watched a column of pale fire spear into the night horizon. It burned only for a heartbeat, then folded in on itself, leaving a bruise of violet clouds that refused to fade.
"Direction?" she asked.
A scribe beside her pressed a trembling finger to the map etched into his slate. "South-east, Your Majesty. The marsh-rim near the Ruined Wells. Distance… three days by flight-wing."
Maelis's jaw tightened. "The same region the patrols lost contact with?"
"Yes, my Queen. Captain Dahl's last transmission came from that quadrant."
The queen turned from the balcony, her cloak sweeping like spilled ink. The council hall glimmered with soft mana-light, every surface reflecting her image a hundred times. Ministers whispered behind cupped hands; the air smelled of wax, parchment, and fear. The realm had not seen a sign of that magnitude since the age of plagues.
"Summon the Matron Orders," she said. "Tell them the gods have answered but not whom they favor."
Her steward hesitated. "And Captain Dahl?"
Maelis's expression softened a fraction. "Bring her to me. At once."
Seren arrived still wearing dust from the road, her armor dulled, eyes rimmed red from sleeplessness. She knelt before the throne but kept her gaze lifted, an old habit born of pride and discipline. Maelis studied her in silence, tracing the faint line of a scar along the captain's jaw.
"You saw the flare?" the queen asked.
"Yes, Majesty. From the western ridge. The shockwave reached us even there."
Seren's voice rasped with exhaustion. "The pattern of the light… it matched the sigils described in the pre-Cataclysm tablets."
"So he lives," Maelis murmured.
Seren flinched at the pronoun. "Then it was him."
"Or the artifact that brought him," Maelis said. "Either way, the world just remembered its hunger."
She rose and walked to the window, hands clasped behind her back. "Do you know why our ancestors sealed the Wells, Captain?"
Seren shook her head. "Records claim corruption. Mana storms, unstable ley currents..."
"Half-truths," Maelis cut in. "The Wells were hearts of balance. When the men vanished, the hearts faltered. Every attempt to reignite them failed… until now." She turned, eyes catching the candlelight. "He may have touched the source itself."
Seren hesitated. "If the Progenitor awakened it, should we not send scholars?"
"Scholars," Maelis said dryly, "will debate for a year before deciding which boots to wear. I need a soldier." She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You."
The word fell heavy. Seren straightened unconsciously.
"You will take a covert detachment," Maelis continued. "No banners, no clergy. The Orders would tear each other apart to claim him. You'll reach the Wells before dawn of the fifth day and secure the subject alive."
Seren frowned. "Alive. Even if he resists?"
Maelis met her gaze. "Especially then."
For a moment, only the crackle of braziers filled the room. The queen's face softened, barely. "I trust you still believe in our purpose."
"I believe in duty," Seren said.
"Good. Then believe that his survival is now ours." Maelis turned back toward the horizon. "If he dies, the realm dies with him."
Far below that same horizon, the echo of the flare still shimmered through the stone.
Aiden leaned against a wall of the under-vault, breath coming shallow. Every surface around him glowed faintly, as if the rock remembered light. Lyra crouched beside him, checking the readings on a small crystalline compass; its needle spun in slow, drunken circles.
"It reacted to you," she said quietly. "The entire Heartwell synchronized for an instant."
"Did I cause that explosion?" Aiden asked. His voice shook despite the calm he tried to fake.
Eira finished packing the last of their supplies. "Not an explosion, a broadcast. The Wells always echoed their activations across the ley grid. The queen will know exactly where we are now."
Aiden's stomach turned. "So we just lit a beacon over our heads."
"Pretty much," Eira said.
Lyra snapped the compass shut. "Then we move before they send retrieval squads. There are secondary tunnels leading east, toward the ridge of Myrenna. If we reach the outer caverns, we can follow the stream to open ground."
Aiden pushed off the wall. "And then what? Keep running?"
Lyra hesitated. "Until we find a way to control what you triggered, yes."
Eira's tone softened. "You're more than a fugitive now, Aiden. You're a signal. Whatever happened tonight, the world felt it."
He looked at his hands; faint threads of blue light still pulsed beneath his skin, fading slowly. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does," Lyra said. "But you might be the only one who can finish what they started."
They began gathering their gear. The ruins groaned overhead; dust fell like ash. Somewhere distant, a low metallic clang echoed, the sound of falling gates or, worse, someone entering from above.
Eira froze. "That came from the western access."
Lyra extinguished the lamp, plunging them into shadow. "Too soon for natural collapse."
Aiden's pulse quickened. "Search team?"
"Possibly," Eira whispered. "If they have mana-hounds, we'll have to mask your scent and aura both."
Aiden managed a weak smile. "Right. Because that's easy."
Lyra shot him a look. "Sarcasm later. Survival now."
They slipped into a narrow side passage, water lapping at their boots. The tunnel wound upward in dizzying spirals until the air grew thinner and colder. When they finally reached a ledge overlooking a deep chasm, Lyra paused.
"From here," she said, "the ley flow connects to other Wells. If we can reach the conduit junction, we might shut the signal down."
Eira glanced back toward the rumbling echoes below. "Assuming the Silent Blades don't reach it first."
"Silent what?" Aiden asked.
"Elite strike order," Lyra said. "The queen's invisible hand. They erase what the crown can't explain."
Aiden swallowed. "So if they catch me…"
"They'll make sure the world stops asking questions," Eira finished.
He exhaled through his nose. "Then we get to that junction first."
They started across the ledge single-file, the faint glow from the chasm painting their faces in ghostly blue. Far above, the stars of Seravelle burned faintly through cracks in the ceiling, as if the night itself were watching.
Back in the Citadel, Queen Maelis stood alone before the great map as her advisers dispersed. Her reflection shimmered in the polished floor, doubled by candlelight. The flare's afterimage still lingered in her mind, the shape of a man surrounded by light.
"Find him, Seren," she whispered. "Before the world remembers what it lost."
Outside, bells tolled across the capital, signaling the mobilization of the Silent Blades.
And somewhere in the dark beneath the marshlands, Aiden's group began to run again.