Dear Readers,
Some of you might be confused—or even upset—that Raven allowed Elian to heal all 23 people despite his visible exhaustion. "She should have stopped him! She should have protected him! He's only six years old and just recovered from weeks of torture!"
You're right to feel that protective instinct. Raven felt it too.
But here's what Raven understood in that moment, drawing from 99 lifetimes of experience:
Elian's trauma wasn't just physical. It was existential.
He'd been imprisoned, extracted from, and used as a weapon to poison an entire region. When he learned those 23 people were suffering because of what the researchers had done with his essence, he internalized that as his responsibility. Not logically—a six-year-old can't be held responsible for what adults did to him—but emotionally.
Raven recognized something critical: If she forced him to stop, and any of those people died, Elian would carry that guilt for the rest of his life. He would believe he could have saved them but was stopped. That their deaths were his fault because he didn't try hard enough. That protection meant being controlled, just like the researchers controlled him.
The worst kind of trauma isn't just what's done to you—it's the agency stolen from you.
Elian had spent weeks with zero control over his own body, his own power, his own choices. The researchers made every decision for him. Pain, extraction, imprisonment—all without his consent.
Raven could have protected his body by forcing him to stop. But she would have damaged something deeper—his sense of agency, his ability to make meaningful choices, his understanding that he has power over his own actions.
Instead, she made a calculated risk: Let him choose, but stay close enough to catch him when he falls.
She didn't abandon him. She monitored every moment, ready to intervene if true danger manifested. She warned him of consequences. She offered him the choice to stop multiple times. But ultimately, she respected his decision to push through because she understood what that choice meant for his healing.
Sometimes, the most protective thing you can do is let someone prove to themselves they're strong enough to help others.
Elian needed to know he wasn't just a victim. That his power could heal, not just harm. That he could make choices that mattered, that saved lives, that transformed suffering into hope.
Yes, he collapsed. Yes, he was completely exhausted. But he also healed 23 people who were dying, and he did it by his own choice. That agency, that accomplishment, that proof of his own strength and goodness—those are things that will help him recover from trauma in ways physical protection alone never could.
Raven knew this because she's lived it. Across 99 lifetimes, she's learned that trauma isn't healed by wrapping people in cotton wool. It's healed by helping them reclaim agency, rebuild confidence, and prove to themselves they're more than what was done to them.
She caught him when he fell. That's the promise she kept.
And she'll continue catching him, training him, protecting him—while also respecting that he's not just a victim to be sheltered, but a person with extraordinary power who needs to learn how to use it responsibly and by his own choice.
That's what true protection looks like when you're raising someone who will eventually need to stand on their own.
With respect for your protective instincts (which mirror Raven's own),
Tracy Dunwoodie
P.S. - For those still concerned: Mira has already committed to training him properly, which includes teaching him safe energy management and recognizing his limits. The team is aware he'll be targeted, and they're prepared to protect him. This was a controlled situation with multiple experienced cultivators monitoring his condition. Raven wouldn't have allowed it if true danger was imminent—exhaustion is recoverable; lost agency and accumulated guilt are much harder to heal.