The deep grounds didn't let go easily.
Even as we crossed the boundary, leaving behind the cracked stone and writhing ley lines, I could feel it clinging to my skin. The mana here was thinner, lighter—but only just. Like stepping out of a storm and still finding rainwater in your lungs.
The shift was subtle at first—a soft easing of pressure, the kind you wouldn't notice unless you'd been drowning in it for hours. But then I felt it. Like a hand unclenching around my ribs.
The deeper mana had teeth. Now it was behind us.
I exhaled, and even that felt like betrayal. Like Salem's presence should still be there in the shadows, waiting to finish what she started.
We were walking now—slowly, carefully. Ramon kept an arm around my waist, his touch steady, grounding. Lycian trailed behind, quiet but coiled with something sharp. Not quite anger. Not quite fear.
Guilt, maybe. Or resentment. It was hard to tell with him.
My body ached with every step, each breath scraping through wounded ribs and hollowed-out mana channels. But pain wasn't what weighed on me.
It was what hadn't happened.
What I hadn't done.
I still couldn't beat her.
Even with everything I'd learned. Even folding space like second nature. Even after fighting her blow for blow, matching her shadow, with flame and space, in pure will—I didn't win. Not really. duel didn't end with me standing victorious.
It ended when he arrived.
Lincoln.
He didn't even raise his voice. Didn't lift a weapon.
And she folded like a dying star.
She was a monster carved from shadow and vengeance—and she knelt for him. The same woman who had hunted me for months. The same creature who moved like smoke and struck like a god.
I got her to bleed. He made her disappear.
That fact burrowed deep. Because I wanted that win. Not out of pride. Not even revenge.
Because I needed to know I was enough.
But I wasn't. Not yet.
"You're quiet," Ramon said beside me, voice soft. "Too quiet."
"I'm thinking," I said. It was the truth, but not the whole of it.
"I figured."
"Feel that?" Ramon asked.
"The mana," I said quietly. "It's behaving again."
Lycian scoffed behind us. "Only barely. It's like leaving the ocean and finding yourself ankle-deep in a swamp instead."
He wasn't wrong. But I'd take the swamp.
Eventually, the old sanctum gates came into view—crumbling stone and iron, shrouded in glyphlight. Nestled just beyond them was a rest lodge. A hunter's inn. The kind of place built for people who came back broken and needed somewhere quiet to pretend they weren't.
No guards. No questions. Just silence and a key that appeared in Ramon's palm with a whispered spell.
The room had three beds. No one argued over which was whose.
I sat on the edge of mine, scroll still cold in my hand. The ribbon binding it hadn't loosened. The wax seal—Lincoln's crest—i ran my thumb over it. I hadn't opened it.
Didn't need to.
I knew it wasn't going to tell me what I wanted.
It would tell me what I lacked
Ramon turned his scroll over once. I heard the parchment shift under his fingers, a faint crackle as the seal broke.
A low hum resonated through the air—dense, stable. Earth mana. I felt it surge outward like a heartbeat into soil, and then something formed. The shape was hard to read with my eyes—just a blur, thick and rough-edged—but the mana lines were clear. Compact. Centered. Old.
A weapon. An axe, I realized. Forged from something deeper than metal—stone folded with magic so grounded it felt like it could anchor a mountain.
Ramon reached toward it slowly. I heard his breath catch as it settled into his hand.
"…He knew," he said quietly. "About my affinity. Without even seeing me fight."
Lycian made a soft sound in his throat, dry and unimpressed.
He broke the seal on his own scroll.
Mana snapped—quick, bright, and layered with something more primal. I felt it twist midair, movement like a coil unwinding.
A presence surged forward—alive.
My hearing picked it up before the mana did: a soft rasp, like scales dragging across cloth. I tilted my head slightly, narrowing my focus.
A serpent.
Large. Intelligent. Fused with magic that shimmered like sun off water. It slid around Lycian's shoulders, weightless and fluid, and I felt their energies touch—then lock.
A beast bond. Not a summon. A partnership.
Lycian said nothing. I could almost hear the smugness rising in the curve of his breath.
Ramon exhaled. "Of course you get a snake."
"I attract quality," Lycian murmured.
I didn't move.
My scroll remained closed in my hand. Still cold. Still unread.
I drew in a breath and slowly cracked the seal.
No surge. No flash.
Just a small drop of pressure—barely a pulse—and then something tumbled from the scroll. It hit my palm with a soft, dull weight.
I tightened my fingers around it on instinct, trying to sense what it was.
Not a weapon.
Not a creature.
It was… hard. Cool. Rough-edged. Stone, maybe. My thumb brushed its surface and caught on the edge of a jagged facet.
I focused my senses, drawing on mana sight—but there was almost nothing. A faint outline. Weak, flickering, not even connected to any leyline. No hum. No embedded resonance. Just a dull, cloudy presence. Grey, probably. Uncut. just a formless blur against my palm.
My chest tightened.
"What is it?" Ramon asked beside me.
"I don't know," I said. The words tasted flat.
Lycian turned, voice light. "He gave you a rock?"
I didn't answer.
Because what could I say?
They had been given tools. Power. A bond and an axe.
I got… this.
A hollow thing. A joke of a gift. Like a paperweight for someone blind to everything that mattered.
I curled my fingers around it, nails pressing into my palm.
No glow. No script. No hidden runes.
Just silence.
Did Lincoln think I wasn't ready?
Did he think I wasn't worth more?
He had seen me fight. Seen me bleed. Seen me nearly break—and stand back up anyway.
And still, this was all he thought I needed.
A useless gem with no name.
The quiet of the inn wrapped around me like a heavy cloak. Despite the warmth of the fire crackling nearby, I couldn't shake the tension in my chest.
I rolled onto my side, my breath quickening as frustration built within me. A single tear slipped from my eye, tracing down my cheek before I quickly wiped it away. This… this wasn't how it was supposed to feel.
I thought of Julius, my best friend in this life. He had always been there for me, a steady presence when I needed it most.
But he wasn't here now. I had to be the one to stand strong.
I thought of Ramon, my parents, of all of them, and a familiar ache settled deep in my chest. I didn't want to fail them. They deserved someone stronger than me.
I reached for the gem again, holding it in my hand. Maybe it didn't have power I could understand, but it was from Lincoln. He trusted me with it. Maybe I could trust myself, too.
The room felt quieter now. The soft breathing of Ramon. It was like a protective shield. I wasn't alone. And no matter how small I felt, I knew I wasn't weak. I just wasn't strong enough yet.
I took one last, steadying breath, letting the silence wrap around me like a blanket. The weight of my thoughts didn't disappear, but for the first time tonight, I didn't feel quite so lost.
Slowly, my body—still in pain, relaxed, and the pull of sleep took me