Dawn in the Sanctum wasn't loud.
No bells. No crowds. Just pale light crawling over stone, and the quiet shuffle of guards switching posts like ghosts changing places.
Elowen didn't sleep.
I knew because the bond never went fully dim—her thoughts never drifted all the way down. Even when she sat with her back against the wall and her eyes closed, her hand stayed near her sword belt like the world might lunge at her if she blinked wrong.
When the first bell finally rang, she stood immediately.
"Time," she murmured.
I was in kid form again—sitting on her bed, legs dangling, trying to look like a person who absolutely hadn't almost vanished yesterday.
Elowen reached down and—without asking—picked me up.
I spluttered. "I told you, I can walk."
"You can wobble," she corrected, then adjusted me against her chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.
My face warmed. "You're enjoying this."
"I'm prioritizing security," she said, perfectly serious.
The bond betrayed her with a faint pulse of amusement.
I sighed. "You're dangerous."
Elowen's mouth curved. "So I've been told."
We reached the inner training chamber—different from the public hall. This one had thicker doors, layered runes, and a faint shimmering film over the walls that made my sword-sense itch.
Maera waited inside, already armed. Not tense, but ready.
"Good," she said, glancing at Elowen. "You're both alive."
"Barely," I muttered.
Maera's eyes flicked to me. "Kid form?"
"Unfortunately."
Maera nodded like she'd expected it. "Then we start there."
Elowen set me down on a padded mat in the center of the chamber. The moment my feet hit the floor, I swayed.
Elowen's hand hovered near my shoulder, ready to catch me.
"I'm fine," I insisted.
Maera pointed to the floor runes. "Stand in the circle."
I shuffled into it.
The circle lit up faintly, then sealed with a soft thrum that pressed against my skin like a gentle weight.
Elowen's eyes narrowed. "Containment?"
"Stabilization," Maera corrected. "Anti-scrying. Anti-snatch. Anti-panic."
I crossed my arms. "Anti-embarrassment?"
Maera didn't blink. "No."
Elowen's lips twitched.
Maera continued. "Rin, your biggest problem isn't defense. It's anchor."
I frowned. "Anchor?"
Maera tapped her own chest once. "You're a soul bound to a legendary construct. When you manifest as a child, your form is held together by a core loop—mana flowing in a circuit. You overcast, the loop breaks, and the construct collapses."
"So… I go poof."
"Correct." Maera's gaze sharpened. "We fix that today."
Elowen stepped closer. "How?"
Maera raised two fingers. "Two skills."
She lifted one finger. "Manifest Anchor. You create a micro-shield around your core loop so it doesn't tear under strain."
Second finger. "Emergency Re-Sheath. If the loop destabilizes, you don't collapse—you snap back into sword form automatically."
I stared at her. "So I stop fainting dramatically."
"Exactly."
Elowen looked relieved in a way she tried to hide. "Do it."
Maera's eyes moved to Elowen. "Not 'do it.' Teach it."
Elowen blinked. "I—"
"You're the bearer," Maera said. "Your bond is the channel. Rin's anchor will form fastest if it's tied to your steadiness."
Elowen's expression went soft for a fraction, then hardened into focus.
"Okay," she said. "Rin. Look at me."
I looked up.
Her eyes were tired—but clear. Determined. Warm, in that quiet way.
"Breathe with me," Elowen said.
I tried. My breath came shallow.
Elowen slowed hers deliberately, exaggerating the calm until my body—mana construct or not—started to copy it.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
The bond brightened, steadier.
Maera's voice cut in, precise. "Now feel the loop."
I closed my eyes.
I found it—faint at first. A circulation inside me, like a tiny sun orbiting itself.
Maera spoke like she was guiding a blade into a sheath. "Wrap it. Not with power—with shape. Like tucking a flame into a lantern."
I reached inward.
I imagined my loop not as something fragile, but as something protected.
A ring.
A casing.
A small, stubborn fortress.
The air around me warmed.
Runes crawled over my forearms—gold symbols spiraling like ink made of light.
Elowen's breath caught. She felt it too.
Maera nodded once. "Hold."
I held.
For a moment, it felt… right. Like my body clicked into alignment.
Then Maera raised her hand and snapped her fingers.
A training bolt—soft, harmless—shot from a wall emitter straight at my chest.
I panicked.
Instinct screamed BARRIER—
—but instead of flaring outward wildly, something new happened.
The light didn't explode.
It settled.
A thin shell formed around my chest—tight, controlled—like a second skin.
The bolt hit and bounced off with a dull tap.
I blinked.
Elowen exhaled, loud.
Maera's voice stayed calm. "That's anchor."
I stared at my hands. "I did it."
"You held shape," Maera corrected. "You didn't just pour mana."
Elowen crouched beside me, eyes bright. "Rin… that was clean."
I tried to act unimpressed.
Then my mouth betrayed me with a tiny, proud: "Yeah."
Maera lifted her crescent blade and pointed it at me—not threatening, just direct.
"Now we test the second skill."
I tensed. "Wait—"
Maera flicked her wrist.
A stronger bolt launched—still nonlethal, but fast enough to spike fear.
I panicked again—
—and my anchor shell held for half a second, then wobbled.
I felt the loop strain.
My vision blurred at the edges.
That sick hollow sensation returned—
NO, I thought desperately. Not again.
Something snapped into place on its own.
Not collapse.
Not fainting.
A reflex.
Light wrapped me—
—and I vanished from kid form with a clean, sharp shhnng, reappearing as Lumenward in Elowen's hand.
Elowen caught me instantly, like she'd been waiting for it.
My runes pulsed—steady. Not flickering.
I spoke from blade-form, breathless but stable.
I didn't drop. I didn't… go away.
Elowen's thumb brushed my hilt, gentle. "You came back."
Maera nodded once, satisfied. "Emergency Re-Sheath."
Elowen lifted me slightly, as if to check my weight. "Are you okay?"
Tired, I admitted. But… still here.
Elowen's shoulders lowered. Relief, sharp and honest, flooded through the bond.
Maera stepped closer, voice lowering. "Good. Because now we do the part you're avoiding."
Elowen's eyes narrowed. "What part?"
Maera's gaze went to the chamber door. Then the ceiling. Then the runes.
"Defense against capture."
My runes prickled.
Elowen's posture tightened. "The council."
Maera nodded. "And whoever is firing bolts inside your wards."
She turned to Elowen. "The second attack wasn't just 'outside the ward line.' Someone opened a micro-gap. From inside."
The words hit like a cold wave.
Elowen's expression went still. "An insider."
Maera's voice stayed flat. "Or a compromised ward-key. Either way, the Sanctum is not sealed."
My blade shook faintly.
So they can reach us anywhere.
Maera looked at me. "Not if you learn concealment."
Elowen blinked. "Concealment?"
Maera tapped the runes on my fuller. "Your name is a beacon. Right now, every time you flare, you're shouting into the world: I am awake."
A pause.
Then she added, almost reluctantly, "You need to learn how to be quiet."
I hated that.
Because being quiet sounded like being alone again.
But I also understood: if my light was a lighthouse, then the bolts were ships.
And the sea was full of hungry things.
Maera raised her hand again. "Rin. Try this."
She spoke a single phrase—old, sharp, not a prayer but a command.
The chamber's runes answered.
And for a heartbeat, I felt my own glow… dip.
Not extinguish.
Just fold inward.
Like closing a cloak around a flame.
Maera pointed at Elowen. "Channel through the bond. Rin will mimic the shape."
Elowen inhaled, then whispered into the bond with me—not words, but intention.
Hide. Stay with me. Stay safe.
I followed her shape.
My runes dimmed from bright gold to a faint, soft shimmer.
My presence didn't vanish, but the edge of it blurred—harder to sense, harder to grab.
Maera's eyes narrowed, impressed despite herself. "Good."
Elowen's voice was quiet. "Can they still track you?"
Less, I said. It feels like… I'm wearing a hood.
Maera nodded. "That hood is your first line of defense."
Elowen's gaze hardened. "And the second?"
Maera's answer was immediate.
"Leave."
The word hung in the air.
Elowen stared. "What?"
Maera didn't look away. "Your next training can't happen inside a compromised Sanctum. The enemy already knows your patterns. The council is already moving. And the seal is reacting to attention."
My runes pulsed, uneasy.
Elowen's jaw clenched. "You want us to run."
"I want you to live," Maera corrected. "There's a safe route. Old roads. Warded mile-stones. And a place where Lumenward was last recorded—before it was sealed in velvet and stone."
I felt that hook in my chest tighten.
Black water.
Chains.
A pressure-shaped smile.
Elowen looked down at my blade in her hands.
Then she looked at me—not the weapon, not the prophecy.
Me.
"I'm not leaving you," she said softly through the bond. "Not ever."
My runes warmed.
I know, I replied. But… if we go, we go together.
Elowen nodded once, decisive. "Together."
Maera's shoulders eased slightly, like she'd been holding her breath for hours.
"Good," she said. "Then we move before midday."
She turned toward the door, then paused.
"One more thing," Maera added, voice grim.
Elowen's eyes sharpened. "What?"
Maera glanced back at me. "Rin. That voice you heard—behind the seal."
My runes tightened.
Maera continued. "If it speaks again… don't answer it."
A chill ran through my steel.
Why? I asked.
Maera's gaze was hard. "Because it might not be trying to escape."
She opened the door.
"It might be trying to convince you to open it."
And as the warded chamber's light spilled into the hall, I felt it again—faint, distant, patient.
That pull on my name.
That dark pressure under imagined water.
Like something waiting for the moment I got scared enough… or lonely enough… to listen.