Chapter Three: Where the First Once Stood
Part Two – The Unspoken Blade
Kaelen hadn't spoken in an hour.
He sat outside the barracks door with Yolti beside him, knees pulled up, his halberd resting across his lap like a weight he couldn't shift.
Not broken anymore.
Not whole either.
Just… cracked. Still humming slightly when touched.
He hadn't tried to repair it.
Yolti was watching the sky, silent for once. No jokes. No smirks. Just breathing next to him like her pulse was trying to stay in rhythm with his.
Kaelen finally said it.
"I didn't think glyphs could do that."
Yolti didn't answer.
He looked down at the halberd. The edges were dull where Zephryn's cast had clipped it.
"It wasn't a spell. It wasn't even an attack," he muttered.
Yolti turned her head.
Kaelen's voice was quiet. Still shaken.
"That was memory refusing to die."
Buta stood a few meters away, sharpening stopped.
He'd heard it.
Didn't speak.
Didn't correct him.
Because Kaelen wasn't wrong.
—
Inside, Selka sat beside Zephryn again.
She wasn't holding the necklace anymore—he was.
Still no glow.
Still no ∞.
Still the hum of something deeper than technique. Older than flame.
Zephryn finally broke the silence.
"I don't think this is power."
Selka looked at him sideways. "What is it then?"
He paused.
Squeezed the necklace once.
"It's a scar that hasn't finished healing."
Selka said nothing.
But for the first time since the cast—she smiled.
Not fully.
Just enough for the world to know she still remembered how.
—
Outside, Kaelen stood.
"Do we tell the others?" Yolti asked.
Kaelen shook his head slowly.
"No. Not yet. If we're right… they won't believe it."
"What if we're wrong?"
Kaelen exhaled.
"Then we've already lost more than we know."