The journey back to the Veil's headquarters felt longer than it should have, and Celina felt every step of it in her chest.
She walked down the long hallway lit by small blue lights set into the walls, one arm pressed against her bandages. When she reached the end, she placed her hand against the security panel and waited while the system scanned her palm. A soft chime sounded, the doors opened, and she stepped into the chamber she had left before the mission.
The circular red table still sat at the center of the room, its surface carved with battles between divine beings. The throne-like chairs around it were each different, and the one at the far end was still empty. Thorn leaned against the back of a chair with his usual wry smile, and the calm woman who had spoken for the Veil at the temple stood beside him. A few other members waited nearby in their dark clothes. Isamu stood close to the table, the golden markings from Horus's contract showing on his hand. He looked like a man who hadn't slept since he arrived.
White holograms flickered to life above the table one at a time, each figure wearing a different mask. Isamu watched them with a tight expression. "Those are the ones in charge, aren't they?"
"Everything the Veil does starts at this table," Thorn answered. "The rest of us just walk where it points." He looked toward the doors and his smile faded slightly. "You look terrible, Celina."
"An axe will do that," Celina said.
"Then why are you walking around?"
"Because I promised I'd bring something back." She turned toward Isamu, and the room became very quiet.
Isamu stepped forward before she could say anything else. "My son. Do you know where he is?"
Celina reached beneath her bandages and pulled out the small folded piece of paper she had hidden from the healers. It had stayed pressed against her skin the entire way. "I didn't trust a messenger with this," she said, holding it out. "Read it."
Isamu took it with shaking hands and unfolded it. The handwriting was uneven, as if it had been written while the writer fought through pain.
Isamu, Magnolia is alive. He fought two Greek soldiers outside Babylon and has not woken since. He is with his squad and the General. The healers say his body is only exhausted. — Celina
He read it once. Then he read it again. By the third time he wasn't reading anymore, just staring at the first two words as if they might change. His legs gave out, and he sat down heavily in the nearest chair with the paper clutched against his chest. Tears ran down his face, and for several seconds he couldn't speak.
"He's alive," Isamu whispered. "He's really alive."
The calm woman rested a hand on his shoulder. "Breathe."
Isamu nodded and wiped his face, but his eyes dropped back to the note, and he stopped on the last line. His expression slowly hardened. He remembered the oasis. He remembered the soldiers surrounding him, a hand pressing his son into the sand, and the General's cold voice saying tell the truth or your son dies. He stood up so quickly that the chair scraped across the floor.
"The General has him."
"Yes," Thorn said carefully.
"That man had his soldiers hold my son down like a prisoner. Now he's sitting in a hospital with him?" Isamu's hands tightened around the paper. "What does he want with him?"
"I spoke to him," Celina said. "He questioned me, and I didn't give him much. But he told me not to put those children in danger." She paused. "He didn't say it like a threat. He said it like a man who meant to stop anyone who tried. When he came into the room afterward, he told his soldiers that nobody leaves Babylon until your son wakes up."
Isamu stared at her, then looked down at the note again. He thought about everything he had done and hadn't done. He had stood in Horus's tomb and admitted he had been ready to let Magnolia die. He had no right to demand perfect hands for his son. If Magnolia was alive and the people around him were keeping him that way, then for now that was enough.
Isamu let out a long breath. "Then he stays where he is." He looked up at Thorn. "For now."
"And after that?" Thorn asked.
"After that, I'm going to see my son."
The calm woman nodded. "We said we wouldn't hide information about him. We'll help you do it."
Isamu folded the note carefully and slid it into his pocket. Above the table, the masked holograms said nothing at all.
•••
Magnolia opened his eyes in the dark.
There was no ringing in his ears this time, no pain, only an endless black space and a dim campfire burning a short distance away. An old figure sat beside it, with gray feathers, a rusted crown, and a tattered white robe. Ra poked at the flames with a stick and didn't look up.
Magnolia walked closer and sat across from him. "Ra."
"Sit," Ra said, though Magnolia already had.
For a moment neither of them spoke. Magnolia watched the fire and gathered his thoughts. "What happened to me?" he finally asked. "Why was I able to do that? I was so fast. I hit him and he went through the rocks. I didn't even know I could." He leaned forward. "Why?"
Ra said nothing. He kept his eyes on the flames, and the fire cracked quietly in the silence.
Magnolia frowned. "Aren't you going to answer me?"
Still nothing.
He sighed and looked into the fire as well. The longer he stared, the more the flames reminded him of what he had seen. He remembered the axe flying toward him and the way his body had refused to move. He remembered Celina stepping in front of him, and the sound she made when it hit her. He remembered the blood.
I was supposed to protect everyone.
His chest tightened. He remembered how the guilt had grown until there was nothing else, and how the voice had come into his head. Fire burns everything. He remembered the love he felt for his friends and the despair of watching someone suffer because of him. He remembered the hatred he felt toward the man who had thrown the axe. All of it had hit him at once, and there had been no room left to think.
"It wasn't only the power," Magnolia said quietly. Ra's eyes moved toward him for the first time. "It was me. I was so scared and so angry that I couldn't control what I felt." His hands curled into fists on his knees. "The water around me evaporated. Valentina was close. Emma was close. If I had hit the wrong thing, or if they had been standing a little closer, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself." He swallowed. "I could have hurt them. I could have killed them."
Ra said nothing, but he set the stick down.
Magnolia stared at the fire for a long time. Then he shook his head slowly. "That's the wrong question. I shouldn't be asking why I was able to do it." He looked up, and his silver eyes were steady. "How can I gather restraint?"
A faint smile appeared beneath Ra's beak. "That," he said, "is a better question, my sun."
Magnolia waited, but Ra only studied him for several seconds. "Restraint is not gathered the way fire is," he said at last. "It is learned the way fire is kept. Slowly. With care."
"That's not really an answer."
"No." Ra's smile widened a little. "Not yet. Remember what I told you."
Magnolia thought about it. "Power doesn't decide what I become."
"And?"
"Choice does."
Ra nodded and placed a hand on Magnolia's head, just as he had the first time they met. "Now awaken, Me."
•••
Magnolia woke to a quiet hospital room and a dim orange glow coming through an open window.
He lay still for a moment, listening. Somewhere outside, Babylon was alive with lanterns and distant voices, and the bright light from the canals spilled across the ceiling. Inside the room, everything was dark. When he turned his head, he saw someone sitting in a chair near the wall.
It was Saijew.
The General had collapsed heavily into the chair, his shoulders low and his head bowed so far that his chin nearly touched his chest. His eyes were open, but they stared at nothing. His arms rested loosely against the chair as if he had forgotten they were there. His portal glove lay on the floor near his feet where he had dropped it, and a crumpled sheet of paper sat on the small table beside him, next to a pen and a broken wax seal. The rug beneath his boots was wrinkled, as though he had shifted his feet again and again without noticing. Through the open window behind him, the lights of the city glowed brightly, as if the whole world was celebrating something in the next room while he sat alone in the dark.
Magnolia had never seen the General look so tired.
Saijew hadn't noticed him waking. His mind was somewhere else, running through the past few days like a list he couldn't stop reading. Ren had awakened on the bridge. He had forced it, almost died for it, and Saijew had scolded him and praised him in the same breath. Magnolia had changed on the battlefield into something Saijew didn't have a name for. It might have been an Awakening. It might have been something worse. He had sent a letter to the Pharaoh that morning, choosing each word carefully, and he didn't know what answer would come back. And through all of it, the rest of the children were sleeping in Babylon, and every one of them was his to keep alive.
He had sat like this before. Years ago, in a tent after a battle, with a list of names in his hand. The weight felt exactly the same.
"General?"
Saijew's head snapped up. For half a second, his face was open and tired, and then the mask slid back into place. "You're awake."
"How long was I out?"
"Several days." Saijew stood and picked up the glove, slipping it into his belt. "Don't sit up yet."
Magnolia sat up anyway, and Saijew sighed and let him. "Is everyone okay? that woman…"
"She's alive. The healers did good work, and so did Amelia." Saijew paused. "She walked out of the hospital on her own. One of the Babylonian guards found her and let her go."
Magnolia let out a shaky breath. Then his face fell. "It was my fault. I froze. If I had moved, she…"
"You froze in your first real battle," Saijew said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "It happens to soldiers twice your age." He looked at Magnolia for a moment. "I heard you whispering in your sleep."
Magnolia looked down at the blanket. "I lost control. I couldn't stop it. I want to learn how to hold it back." He hesitated. "Restraint. I want to learn restraint."
Saijew's eyebrows rose slightly. It wasn't what he had expected, and he thought it might be the best thing he'd heard all week. "Then you've already started." He leaned back. "Ren awakened during the fight. I think you did too, or something close to it. I don't know which yet, and I won't pretend to."
"The Greeks…"
"They called me something." Saijew gave a small, tired smile. "The Crimson Dragon. Ren will tell the story the way he heard it. I'd rather you hear the true one."
Magnolia blinked. "It's not because of the fire?"
"It's because of the blood." Saijew rested his arms on his knees. "I was born in Bubastis, into a military family. My father served Egypt. So did my grandfather. My great- grandfather died serving it. I was supposed to do the same." He shook his head. "But I questioned war from the time I was young, and nobody liked that very much. Then I started winning, and nobody cared."
"Winning?"
"Not the way you'd think. I never beat armies stronger than mine. I just brought almost everyone home." Saijew looked at the wall. "That earned me promotions. Eventually it earned me the title of General. I accepted. But when I looked at where Egypt was going, and when I saw how young the soldiers were becoming…" He stopped. "I can't oppose the throne. So I decided that if I couldn't stop the war, I would stand between the children and the worst of it."
Magnolia stayed quiet.
"Soldiers began saying I carried their blood on my back," Saijew continued. "Every man I lost, every ally who fell. I carried it alone, and I didn't fall. Someone said I stood like a dragon. The color stuck." He glanced at his own hair and gave a dry smile. "It was convenient."
"So that's why you look so tired."
Saijew laughed softly. It was the first real laugh Magnolia had heard from him. "That's why I'm telling you this. You blame yourself for her, and I know that feeling. I carried it by myself for years, and I don't recommend it." He stood up and rested a hand on Magnolia's shoulder. "Next time you freeze, someone will already be standing beside you. Remember that."
Magnolia nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Good. Now rest." Saijew walked toward the door and looked back. "You're allowed to ask for help. That's an order."
•••
The training yard rang with the sound of steel and shouted commands.
Squad Two had been working under Naram-Sin for days, and the Lion of Babylon had kept to his habit of saying very little. "Three breaths," he told Poison, lifting Mashkan. "Decide before the third."
Poison tensed. On the second breath, he threw a vial of green mist at Naram-Sin's feet and dove sideways. The spear still caught his shoulder, but he had moved first. Naram- Sin lowered the weapon. "Better."
Poison rubbed his arm and grinned. "That's the nicest thing you've said to me."
"Do not get used to it."
Nearby, Luna wrapped her vines around her own body before reaching out to shield the others, and the spear bounced off the green wall. Abraham marked a spot on the ground with a golden line and struck it with every bit of strength he had, and a wooden post cracked in half. He stared at it in surprise. Sofia and Sous stood side by side after a drill, both breathing hard, and Sous finally muttered, "I was afraid on that bridge." Sofia looked away. "So was I," she said, and neither of them said anything more.
Ren stood in front of Naram-Sin with a bruise already forming on his chest. He hadn't been knocked flat this time, but he hadn't won either. He lowered his sword and swallowed his pride. "What am I missing?"
Naram-Sin looked at him for a moment. "That," he said, "is a better question."
Across the courtyard, Samira was dancing around Squad One. Valentina barked orders, and the squad spread out the way Samira had taught them. Matthew placed barriers where Samira would run, not where she stood. Kibo vanished and reappeared at her side, only to be stopped by one of her daggers. Emma's wind knocked her back a step, and Samira grinned. "Not bad!"
Amelia moved with a confidence she hadn't shown in days. She turned into a small white bird and dodged Samira's blade, then landed and changed back, breathing hard. Samira stopped in front of her. "You're better today."
"You told me she walked out on her own," Amelia said. "That helped."
"You kept her alive long enough to do it." Samira smiled. "That's what a healer does."
Amelia smiled back, and for the first time since the battle, it reached her eyes.
At the edge of the yard, a messenger spoke quietly with Samira. She nodded and turned toward the squad. "Magnolia's awake."
Everyone froze. Then Kibo whooped, and Emma pressed both hands to her mouth. Valentina took half a step toward the hospital before Samira held up a hand. "Finish the drill first. He isn't going anywhere."
•••
Far from Babylon, the sun was rising over Bubastis.
The city was still quiet, and the streets were empty except for a few early merchants. At the eastern gate, two figures stood outlined against the pale light, and the guards lowered their heads as the pair approached, as they would for no one else in the city.
The woman stood slim and athletic, built for speed and precision rather than strength. Her dark skin was marked with faint scars across her back and forearms, and her emerald eyes seemed to see through anything said in front of her. Her long black hair reached the middle of her back, with dozens of golden rings braided through it. She wore fitted black and white armor, layered with enchanted silk beneath flexible bronze plating. There wasn't a single gemstone on her. Every piece of jewelry she wore looked like it had a purpose.
The man beside her was enormous. He stood at roughly 6'8", with a frame built from decades of warfare and bronze skin covered in scars he made no effort to hide. His face was square with a strong jaw, framed by a thick, carefully kept beard, and his long black hair was braided behind his head with bronze rings. His dark brown eyes were calm. He wore dark steel plates reinforced with leather, and across his back rested an enormous curved greatblade that few people could even lift.
"The Pharaoh has called for us," the man said, in a deep, steady voice. "It isn't a request."
"It never is," the woman answered.
He looked out toward the road leading south, and his expression didn't change. "Then we go."
The woman gave a small nod, and the two of them walked through the gate together as the sun climbed behind them. The guards watched until they disappeared down the road, and Bubastis remained quiet behind them.