The twins sat in the center of the ruin.
Neither cried. Neither reached for comfort. They simply stared at the runes that glowed faintly around them.
Elira knelt close, ready to intervene. But Kael held her arm.
"Wait," he said. "Let it happen."
The realm had prepared for this.
Not with words, but with will.
The girl lifted her hand. A slow, hesitant motion, then pointed toward one of the stone-carved symbols. It lit up, pulsing once.
The boy blinked. His tiny fingers brushed the stone, and the pulse spread.
Outward.
Kael stepped back. "It's choosing them."
Elira whispered, "Or they're choosing it."
A breeze moved through the ruin, though no wind stirred the trees.
The runes rearranged themselves, not physically, but perceptually. As if space had changed its rules around the twins.
The ground shimmered.
Then lifted.
A platform rose from the floor beneath them, stone laced with memory, light threading through it like veins.
The twins rose with it.
Suspended. Calm.
Kael and Elira stood frozen, not in fear, but awe.
Their children had begun their first act of magic.
Not through force.
But through recognition.
And the realm had answered with reverence.