Chapter 19
Days passed, but the silence left by the Echoers' invasion still hung in the academy like a veil drawn too tight.
Classes resumed, but the air had changed.
Teachers glanced over their shoulders. Second-years sharpened their weapons more often. And first-years—especially those who had passed the Spiral Veil—began to look older, as if battle had carved something into their bones.
Astern moved through it all with quiet focus.
His training with Nysera had deepened. Not just in swordplay—but in what lay beneath the surface: the manipulation of aura, the binding of spiritual signatures, and the ability to conceal his presence so completely that even sensing spells failed to notice him.
He was becoming a shadow with purpose.
---
"Today," Nysera said during their morning session, "you learn to tether."
They stood in a sealed dome on the edge of the academy, where a training arena had been carved from celestial stone. Floating glyphs swirled in the air like gentle storms.
"Tethering is the act of syncing your core essence to another source—living or spiritual. It can grant strength, but also vulnerability."
She extended her hand toward him. "Try it."
Astern hesitated.
But then he reached out.
As their hands touched, something snapped in the space between them.
A current of power passed between their bodies. Not painful—but vast. Like a gate opening within his ribs.
He saw flashes—not memories, but feelings. Grief. Love. The scent of burning feathers. The sound of a blade being drawn in darkness.
Then the tether broke.
Astern staggered back, panting.
Nysera stood steady. "You saw?"
He nodded slowly. "Pieces."
"Good," she said. "Tethering reveals truth. And hides none."
---
Later that evening, in the dorm, Kaela returned with news.
"There's going to be an assignment," she said, tossing her boots aside. "Field mission. Off-site."
Lunaria perked up. "Already?"
"Some kind of joint exercise. Two first-year squads. Escort and retrieval. We're supposed to go outside the northern barrier."
Astern's eyes narrowed. "Where?"
"Into the Whispering Pines."
Lunaria closed her book. "That forest's cursed."
"Not cursed," Kaela corrected. "Just… alive."
---
Three days later, Astern, Kaela, and Lunaria stood at the edge of the pine forest, dressed in combat robes marked with the insignia of Dorm D.
Six other students flanked them—another squad of first-years, less experienced but eager.
Two instructors accompanied them: Elien, Lunaria's mentor, and a grim-faced defensive instructor named Vox.
The wind through the trees whispered like voices too far to understand.
"The objective is simple," Elien said, his voice calm. "Recover the fallen core of a damaged guardian spirit and return without triggering the warded roots."
Vox added, "If something follows you out, don't bring it back."
They entered the forest in silence.
---
Inside, the forest pulsed with low energy.
Astern moved like a shadow. His aura wrapped around him in tight, clean layers. Every step was calculated.
Kaela led the front, blazing trails with confident slashes of her shortblades. Lunaria read glyphs etched into the bark of trees, deciphering the old angelic runes.
Then…
A branch cracked.
From the shadows, something moved.
Not an Echoer.
A twisted amalgam of bark, bone, and spirit—like the forest had swallowed a demon and regurgitated it with teeth.
"Contact!" Kaela shouted.
The squads split.
Astern summoned his aura blade, striking with precision. Lunaria sealed one of the beasts with frost sigils. Kaela darted through the chaos, severing limbs with speed.
Then, the corrupted guardian appeared.
The mission's true target.
It loomed taller than the trees, eyes glowing blue-green with warped energy.
Elien's voice rang out: "Don't destroy it! Extract the core!"
Astern leapt forward, aura flaring. He reached out—not with his blade, but with a tether.
He found the core's pulse.
And bound it.
Light surged, and the creature collapsed.
The forest sighed. The danger passed.
---
As they exited the trees, the instructors said nothing.
But Astern noticed Elien glance at him once, a shadow flickering behind his eyes.
Not fear.
Recognition.