Sunlight filtered through the high window, catching on threads of dust and swaying herbs. Lira stirred slowly, the weight of sleep tangled with warmth on her chest.
A soft purr vibrated under her chin.
She opened her eyes.
Fluffy blinked up at her, nestled in the crook of her arm, tail twitching. His fur glowed faintly where a sunbeam touched it, and his tongue stuck out just a little, still mid-sleep.
For a moment, Lira simply lay still. The bracelet on her wrist rested cool and quiet now, its shimmer hidden beneath the folds of her sleeve. The memory of the ruins, the voice in the chamber, and the eyes of the drake were still fresh—but so was the gentle comfort of her small room, the rustle of trees beyond the tower walls, and the distant sound of bells marking the first hour.
She sat up slowly, Fluffy climbing into her lap without protest. He stretched dramatically, then flopped onto his side, watching her with sleepy eyes.
"Good morning," she whispered, stroking his fur once.
Then she stood, dressed quickly, and tucked the bracelet beneath her cuff. There would be time later to make sense of everything. For now, she needed to speak to someone who might already understand.
She moved through the stone corridors, quiet and purposeful. A few early students passed her in the halls, yawning and murmuring about breakfast or lessons. She nodded politely, her pace never slowing.
The doors to Grandmaster Elion's study stood tall and silent, as always — carved with scenes of constellations and feathered wings. She raised a hand, hesitated, then knocked once.
A voice answered from within. "Enter."
She pushed the door open.
Grandmaster Elion stood at the far end, near the arched window. His long white robes shimmered with starlight thread, and his silver hair fell loosely over his shoulders. He did not turn as she stepped in, but he spoke immediately.
"You've been where most have never dared, child."
Lira blinked. "You knew I went?"
"I saw the fog shift. And the drake returned." He turned then, and his eyes—pale and sharp as moonlit frost—met hers. "Tell me."
She told him everything.
The ruins beneath the earth. The murals. The woman and the bracelet. The name Lunavir. The starlit pool.
She left nothing out.
Elion listened in silence, fingers laced before him. When she finished, he closed his eyes for a moment, as if pressing the words into memory.
Then he spoke.
"You must not speak of this to others. Not yet. Not even to your friends."
Lira frowned. "Why?"
"The world is not ready to remember," he said. "Some memories protect. Others… awaken too much."
She hesitated, then nodded.
"I'll keep it secret," she promised.
He stepped forward, brushing his fingers lightly across the sleeve that hid the bracelet. "The bond has begun. When the time comes, you will know what to do. Until then… be a student. Learn. Live."
She met his gaze again. "Thank you."
Elion gave a rare smile — faint, but kind. "Go now. You'll be late."
She left his chamber with a strange lightness in her chest. The weight was still there — but shared now. A secret rooted, not hidden.
As she rounded the corner toward her first class, she barely had time to register the blur of motion before someone crashed into her with a squeal.
"Where were you so long?!"
"Maelin—!"
Her friend clung to her in a tight hug, dark curls bouncing, green robes slightly rumpled. Maelin pulled back just enough to grin at her, wide and relieved.
"I missed you," she said. "I thought maybe the forest finally ate you or something."
Lira laughed, a true laugh that felt like sunshine cracking through storm clouds. "It nearly did."
Maelin blinked. "Wait, what?"
"Nothing," Lira said quickly, brushing it off with a grin. "Tell me what I missed."
"Oh, everything! Master Curiel made us chant root spells for like three days straight. And someone turned the alchemy lab purple. You'd have loved it."
They walked together, shoulders bumping now and then, Fluffy trailing behind them with his tail high like a banner.
Just another morning.
Just another day.
But Lira knew — beneath the cobbled halls and woven runes, something ancient had begun to stir.
And it had chosen her.
The hallways buzzed with morning chatter as Lira and Maelin walked side by side through the academy. Sunlight filtered through tall windows, casting gold patterns over the polished floors. For a moment, it all felt strangely normal again—like she hadn't walked through ancient ruins or worn a bracelet older than memory.
Maelin skipped beside her with a bright grin. "You really won't tell me where you went?"
Lira smiled faintly. "I got lost in the fog."
Maelin narrowed her eyes dramatically. "That's suspiciously vague."
"I'll explain one day," Lira said, tugging her sleeve lower over the bracelet. "Promise."
They turned the corner toward the east wing where today's first session was posted on the noticeboard. Maelin groaned when she saw it.
"Training magic? Ugh. I was hoping for potions today. At least then I can pretend to be patient."
Lira laughed softly, but a tiny nervousness fluttered in her chest. She hadn't used her powers in front of others since returning. Not since Lunavir bonded to her wrist.
The training grounds lay just beyond the academy's northern gate—an open space of trampled grass and stone platforms surrounded by trees. Instructors waited near the far edge, already marking boundaries with blue chalk lines. A few students had gathered in pairs, some warming up, others chatting nervously.
Lira and Maelin claimed a quieter patch near a bent old oak.
Maelin rolled her shoulders. "Alright. Let's get this over with."
She extended one hand, drawing a circle in the air. A soft crack echoed, and a flicker of flame danced to life above her palm. It twisted upward, growing stronger as she focused, until it hovered like a small torch.
"See?" she grinned. "Reliable. Warm. Slightly chaotic. Just like me."
Lira clapped. "You've improved. It doesn't even look like it's trying to bite you this time."
"Progress!" Maelin declared, tossing the flame up and catching it again before letting it fizzle. "Your turn, vine whisperer."
Lira stepped forward slowly, exhaling. She placed her hands toward the ground and closed her eyes. In the past, she had to strain for even a small sprout. Her connection had always been hesitant, like a bird too shy to land.
But now—
The moment she focused, warmth surged from her wrist to her chest, down her arms, into her fingertips. It wasn't forceful. It was ready.
She pressed her hands toward the earth.
The ground shuddered beneath her palms.
Thick vines erupted upward in a spiral around her, towering into the air like serpents answering a call. Green energy pulsed through them, shimmering with the same soft glow as Lunavir. The vines burst from the soil in wide arcs—startling nearby students—and then froze in place, swaying only slightly.
Maelin staggered back a step with wide eyes. "Okay, whoa."
Lira's eyes flew open. Her breath caught. She stared at her hands, dirt still clinging to her fingers, her skin tingling.
"I… didn't mean to," she whispered.
Some of the vines began to twist inward again, slowly retreating. She willed them down, and the moment she thought it, they obeyed—sinking back into the ground, as if nothing had disturbed the soil at all.
Maelin whistled low under her breath. "Lira… that was—gods, that was impressive."
Lira nodded slowly, still staring at her fingers. "I think I'm more than okay."
She felt it humming just under the surface now—life, power, memory. The forest hadn't left her. It had come with her.
And something inside her… had finally unlocked.