I didn't realize how tightly I was clenching my jaw until the training hall door clicked shut behind us. The sound echoed through the open space, hollow and sharp, like the last note of a song no one wanted to end.
For a moment, I just stood there.
Still.
Silent.
Trying to breathe around the truth Dareth had dropped at our feet like a blade.
A bond before mine.
A bond severed.
A past that wasn't mine to remember—
yet still lived inside me like a ghost.
My hands shook.
Not violently.
Not visibly.
But enough that Lira noticed immediately.
She stepped in front of me, her eyes soft, worried. "Arin… you're allowed to feel this."
"I don't know what I'm feeling," I said quietly.
It was true.
Grief for someone I never knew?
Anger at the entity?
Fear of what it wanted?
Confusion?
All of them, tangled too tightly to separate.
Lira reached up, brushing her fingers lightly across my cheek. "Then let us help you untangle it."
Behind me, Seris exhaled sharply—not annoyed, just frustrated at her own helplessness. She crossed the space in two steps and pressed a firm hand to my back, grounding me with warmth and presence.
"You're shaking," she said.
"I'm trying not to."
"Why?" Seris asked. "Who are you trying to be strong for right now? Because it better not be for us."
Lira nodded, voice soft as falling leaves. "You don't have to hold anything together, Arin. Not today."
Their voices, so different yet so synced, hit something deep inside my chest.
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
And when I spoke, the words came out fragile.
"I don't know who I was supposed to be."
Silence.
Not empty—just full.
Seris stepped in front of me, her eyes burning with a heat that wasn't anger this time but something fiercely protective.
"You're supposed to be you," she said. "Who you were before us? That's not gone—just… unfinished."
Lira gently interlaced her fingers with mine. "And who you're becoming now… that's something you're choosing. We're choosing it with you."
My shoulders trembled.
For the first time since Dareth's revelation, the weight in my chest loosened—just enough for me to breathe without feeling like I was swallowing ash.
Lira guided me toward the center of the hall, where the runes etched into the stone glowed faintly with residual practice energy. Seris followed, resting her palm lightly between my shoulder blades.
The bond pulsed—slow, steady, warm.
Not demanding.
Not pulling.
Just… there.
Alive.
Present.
Mine.
We sat together on the floor—Lira on my right, her knee brushing mine; Seris on my left, close enough that her warmth seeped into my side. They didn't crowd me. They didn't press for answers.
They simply stayed.
Minutes passed with nothing but the soft hum of the wards filling the space.
Finally, Seris broke the silence.
"So what's next?" she asked.
It wasn't a challenge.
It was an invitation.
"I don't know," I admitted.
"Good," Seris said. "Then we'll figure it out together."
Lira leaned her head gently against my shoulder. "Whatever the entity wants… whatever it remembers… doesn't change what we are now."
"What are we?" I whispered.
Two answers came at once.
Lira's voice: "A bond that chose itself."
Seris's voice: "A triad that won't break."
My chest tightened with something warm, fierce, and overwhelming.
I turned slightly toward them—toward both of them—and placed my hands over theirs.
"I meant what I said earlier," I whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
Seris's breath hitched.
Lira's eyes softened.
The bond pulsed again—brighter this time, like a lantern flickering into fuller flame.
The warmth spread through my chest, my arms, my fingertips, threading into theirs until the three of us felt like a single steady breath.
And in that moment—
with Lira's head resting gently on my shoulder,
with Seris's hand covering mine,
with the bond humming soft and alive—
I realized something simple, but absolute:
Whatever had been taken from me in the past…
whatever piece the entity still sought…
whatever history I could not remember…
I wasn't living in that story anymore.
I was writing a new one.
With them.
Even after the warmth of the bond settled, an uneasy stillness lingered beneath my ribs, like the echo of an old wound waking from sleep.
I hadn't spoken the truth aloud yet — not even to myself — but I felt it in the hollow places of my heartbeat. Knowing something had been taken from me before I ever had a chance to claim it… it rattled something deep, something old.
Lira must have sensed it, because her hand tightened gently around mine, her thumb brushing a slow, steady reassurance into my skin.
She lifted her head slightly, studying me with those soft, earnest eyes.
"I'm scared too," she admitted quietly.
The words were simple, but they cut deeper than any revelation the Council had given us.
Scared — not of me, not of the truth — but of losing something she had chosen, something she was holding with both trembling hands.
"But I'm not scared of what you were," she added. "Only of what might try to take you from us."
Her voice shook, just a little. And it made something in me want to promise the world I'd fight tooth and nail to stay right here.
Seris shifted beside me, moving so close her knee bumped mine. She leaned forward, elbows on her thighs, staring at the far wall like it had personally offended her.
"If that thing thinks it can claim you," she muttered, voice low and sharp, "then it made the biggest mistake of its existence."
I turned toward her, a bit startled by the fire in her tone.
Seris's eyes flicked to mine. "I don't care what past bond you had," she said. "Whatever remains of it? It doesn't own you. We do."
She blinked.
"I mean— not own own— you know what I mean."
Her face flushed slightly. She shoved my shoulder gently.
"You're ours because you choose to be."
The bond pulsed warmly in agreement.
For a long moment, none of us moved. The training hall was quiet, lit softly by the ambient glow of dormant runes. But it didn't feel empty. It felt… full. Full of warmth, fear, strength, vulnerability, and everything that made the triad feel alive.
I lifted our joined hands — Lira's on one side, Seris's on the other — and rested them over my heart.
"I don't know what I used to be," I said softly. "But I know who I want to be now."
Lira's breath caught.
Seris's eyes softened.
"With you," I whispered.
The bond tightened around us — not painfully, but with an intensity that felt like a vow. A promise exchanged in silence
And as that warmth spread, something shifted — not in my memories, but in my determination.
If the entity wanted the missing part of me…
If it wanted to drag me back into a story I'd never chosen…
It would have to face the truth:
The person I was now was not alone.
Not lost.
Not incomplete.
Lira's steady courage, Seris's fierce loyalty — they had filled every space the past had left empty.
Whatever storm came next, whatever truth waited behind the fractured signature, I wouldn't face it as the child who once had something stolen.
I would face it as the person who had something worth fighting for.
As the person who had them.
The warmth of their hands lingered long after the echo of our unspoken vow faded. When we finally rose from the floor, it was slow—careful—as if none of us wanted to break the fragile peace we'd managed to build between breaths.
Lira stayed close, her fingers still threaded with mine, guiding me gently toward the far wall where the moonlight spilled through the high windows. It painted her in silver, softened her features, made her look almost ethereal. Without thinking, I lifted my free hand and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
She froze for a heartbeat, breath catching—
then leaned subtly into the touch, eyes fluttering shut.
Seris stepped beside us, watching with a small, tired smile. Not jealous. Not distant.
Just… here.
Part of the moment.
Part of us.
She nudged my shoulder lightly. "You're getting sappy," she teased, but her voice lacked its usual bite. She stepped closer until her forehead rested briefly against mine. "But… don't stop. Not tonight."
I didn't.
I wrapped an arm around her waist—carefully, avoiding her injury—and she sighed quietly, tension melting from her body. Lira leaned her head against my other shoulder, her hand resting lightly over my chest, right where the bond pulse was strongest.
And just like that—
We stood there.
The three of us.
Breathing in sync.
Hearts aligned.
A triad in the simplest, purest sense.
No magic.
No threat.
No chaos.
Just closeness.
Just warmth.
Just the quiet certainty that whatever had happened in the past, whatever waited beyond the academy walls, whatever the entity remembered—
We were stronger now.
Together.
Eventually, the hall's lamps dimmed, signaling deep night. We parted slowly, almost reluctantly.
"Tomorrow," Lira whispered, brushing her fingertips against mine. "We'll start understanding the fractured signature. We'll do it together."
"Tomorrow," Seris echoed, gripping my wrist gently. "And if anything tries whispering to you again, I swear I'll punch the air until it stops."
I laughed—soft, real—and something in my chest loosened.
As they walked me back toward the infirmary, the wards outside flickered faintly, like distant lightning. A subtle reminder that the world hadn't gone still.
But for the first time
since the entity spoke my name
I wasn't afraid.
Because I wasn't walking into tomorrow alone.