Caelan returned to Ravenshade at dawn.
Not carried.
Not escorted.
Dragging himself through the outer wards like someone who no longer expected forgiveness.
The gates resisted him.
Not because they didn't recognize his magic—but because they remembered it.
When he finally crossed the threshold, he collapsed to his knees on cold stone, blood seeping through his sleeve where Lucien's punishment still burned beneath the skin.
"I know," Caelan whispered hoarsely to the empty courtyard. "I know what I deserve."
He stayed there.
Waiting to be found.
Ryn felt him before anyone else did.
The moment Caelan crossed the wards, Ryn's magic reacted—not flaring, not attacking, but pulling inward, like a star collapsing under its own gravity.
Ryn doubled over, breath hitching.
Zara caught him just in time. "Ryn—what's happening?"
"He's here," Ryn said, eyes darkening completely—not black, not shadow, but absence. "The liar."
Kael arrived seconds later, shadows bristling, Elara at his side with light coiled tight and sharp.
They saw Caelan kneeling.
Broken. Waiting.
Kael raised a hand.
The shadows surged—then froze.
Because Ryn stepped forward.
"Stop," Ryn said.
Everyone turned.
Even Kael hesitated.
Ryn straightened slowly, and for the first time since anyone had known him, he stopped holding back.
The air bent.
Not like heat.
Not like darkness.
Like space itself folding inward.
The courtyard stones cracked—not outward, but down, as if gravity had suddenly decided to remember them.
Caelan gasped, pressed flat to the ground, magic completely smothered.
Void.
Pure, merciless void.
"This," Ryn said calmly, voice echoing in a way that made even Kael's shadows recoil, "is why I don't lose control."
Zara's breath caught. "Ryn…"
"I don't wield magic," Ryn continued. "I erase it."
Silence followed—thick and stunned.
Kael lowered his hand slowly. "You could have killed him."
"Yes," Ryn replied. "Easily."
The pressure lifted—just enough for Caelan to breathe.
Ryn looked down at him, eyes cold but not cruel. "But Aerin doesn't need another corpse in her name."
Caelan pushed himself upright, shaking.
"I didn't come back to beg," he said quietly. "I came back to confess."
Elara stepped forward, fury and grief warred tight in her chest. "Speak carefully."
Caelan swallowed. "Lucien is using Aerin as a conduit—not a weapon. He's trying to stabilize his own failing power by anchoring it to hers. He can't control her, not fully. That's why he hasn't broken her yet."
Kael's jaw tightened. "And you helped him."
"Yes," Caelan said, eyes burning with shame. "And I've been undoing it ever since."
Ryn scoffed softly. "Convenient."
Caelan met his gaze. "Lucien will kill me for this. Slowly."
Kael's shadows curled closer. "Why should we believe you?"
Caelan reached into his coat with trembling fingers.
Ryn's void surged instinctively—
But Caelan only pulled out a fractured sigil stone, dark magic unraveling from it like smoke.
"A key," Caelan said. "To the inner sanctum. I damaged it—but not enough to alert him. It will get you inside."
Elara felt it then.
Truth.
Ugly. Broken. Bleeding—but real.
Ryn stepped closer, voice low. "If this is another lie—"
"It's not," Caelan said. "Because if you go in, Lucien will know I chose you over him."
Ryn studied him for a long moment.
Then he turned to Kael.
"I'll go," Ryn said. "My power can collapse Lucien's control fields long enough for Aerin to fight back."
Zara's voice shook. "Ryn—"
"Ilyas would do the same," Ryn said softly.
That ended the argument.
As Caelan was taken into custody—not as a prisoner, not as an ally, but something far more fragile—he bowed his head.
"I don't expect forgiveness," he murmured. "Only the chance to end what I started."
Far away, beneath stone and shadow, Aerin felt something shift.
Not freedom.
But alignment.
The pieces were moving.
And this time—
Ravenshade was done waiting.