We ended up stretching the morning longer than any reasonable academy schedule would allow. The sun was much higher by the time we finally pulled ourselves out of bed, changed into uniform jackets, and stepped into the hallway.
Seris kept close on my left. Lira on my right. Like they'd positioned themselves deliberately.
Maybe they had.
We walked the upper corridor slowly—too slowly—ignoring the fact Halin would almost certainly ask why none of us looked remotely rested.
Lira's fingers brushed mine every few steps, shy and soft. Seris, pretending casual, kept glancing sideways every time I exhaled too deeply.
It wasn't awkward. It wasn't tense.
We moved like three people who had finally decided not to move alone.
And for a moment—I forgot about the fracture entirely.
Until I didn't.
Halfway down the hall, a sudden warmth pulsed through my chest. Not painful—just bright. Like the sun flickering inside me, not outside.
I stumbled a half-step.
Seris caught my elbow instantly. "Arin."
Lira touched my shoulder, magic humming. "What do you feel?"
I inhaled slowly—listening inward.
"It's… warm."
The girls exchanged a look.
Seris frowned. "Warm like healing or warm like active?"
"Active," I whispered. "But soft."
Lira's breath caught. "Soft?"
Seris tightened her grip on me. "Explain."
I searched for words that didn't exist—and found only the one that frightened and comforted me simultaneously.
"It feels… happy."
Silence.
Real silence.
Lira blinked, stunned. "Happy?"
Seris stared at me like I'd spoken in another language entirely.
My pulse quickened. "It's never felt like this."
Lira's voice turned breathless. "Arin… does that mean it felt last night?"
I swallowed hard. "I think so."
Seris's fists clenched at her sides. "Then it knows. About us."
Lira whispered, not with fear but awe:
"Maybe it understands love."
Seris looked at her, skeptical and terrified and moved all at once.
"Love doesn't fix everything," she muttered.
"No," Lira said gently. "But it changes things."
Seris looked back at me, voice cracking very slightly.
"Is that what's happening?"
I didn't know how to say yes—but my chest answered for me.
A soft pulse. A gentle beat.
Warmth.
"It's learning us," I whispered. "And it's reacting. Emotionally."
Lira smiled—slow, stunned, hopeful. "Then maybe it's not a fracture anymore."
Seris swallowed hard, voice shaking just enough for me to hear it.
"Then what is it?"
I closed my eyes.
And the answer came from somewhere deep, somewhere new.
"A part of me."
Both girls inhaled sharply.
Seris grabbed my hand. "Then we take care of that part too."
Lira's voice shook with quiet conviction. "Together."
And warmth spread through my chest again— not from me, not even from the bond—
but from the fracture itself.
Like it agreed.
Like it finally felt something.
We didn't move for a while.
Just three people standing in the corridor of an academy built for magic and history and power—yet somehow this quiet moment felt bigger than any lecture hall or training ground.
Seris squeezed my hand gently. "Tell me what you're feeling right now."
"I don't know how to explain it," I admitted, voice thick. "It isn't fear. Not anymore."
Lira stepped closer, her fingers brushing over my wrist. "Then what is it?"
My breath trembled. "Like it's… relieved."
Both of them stared at me.
Seris whispered, "Relieved?"
"Yes." I swallowed hard, trying to find the right shape for the sensation. "As if something inside me finally stopped waiting to be alone."
Lira's eyes softened, shining. "Arin…"
Seris looked away for a second, blinking hard—as if she needed half a second alone with her feelings before she let them out.
Then she said, quietly but firmly:
"Whatever that thing was originally—whatever story it remembers—you're the one it's learning from now. Not the other way around."
Lira nodded slowly, her voice warm. "Your heart is changing it."
Emotion hit me in the ribs, sharp and overwhelming.
"I'm scared," I whispered.
Lira cupped my cheek gently. "Of it?"
"No," I said. "Of losing you."
Seris stepped closer until her forehead touched mine, grounding me instantly. "Then don't lose us."
Lira leaned her head against mine too—right beside Seris—her voice barely audible. "Just stay with us. That's all we ask."
I closed my eyes, feeling both of them pressed close, warmth on both sides of me… and something inside the fracture softened even further.
Like it heard. Like it understood. Like it believed.
---
The bond pulsed softly.
Not loud.
Not glowing magic.
Just three hearts syncing by choice.
And then—
the fracture pulsed in answer:
slow, warm, almost grateful.
Lira gasped softly, feeling the echo. "It's responding…"
Seris touched her forehead to mine again. "Good. Let it learn what staying feels like."
A shiver ran through me—not fear, not pain—just an overwhelming sensation I never expected to feel from the thing inside me.
Acceptance.
---
For a moment, I wasn't afraid of the future. For a moment, I wasn't thinking about dreams or entities or past lives.
For a moment, I was just a boy held between two people who refused to let fear define us.
And inside me, a presence long lost in darkness finally felt someone reaching back.
Not to fight it. Not to command it.
Just to be with it.
Together.
An afternoon we didn't need to rush
Halin didn't summon us.
Shockingly.
Instead, she left a brief message pinned to our door: "You are excused from training today."
Seris stared at the note for a full five seconds before saying flatly,
"She knows."
Lira blinked. "Knows what?"
"That we didn't sleep," Seris muttered. "That we're not mentally stable enough for her lessons. She's giving us a… feelings day."
Lira covered a laugh with her hand. "Seris—"
"No," Seris insisted, "I refuse this pity holiday. Reject it. Send it back."
I couldn't help smiling. "What if we took the day anyway?"
Both of them looked at me—then at each other.
Lira's face softened. "Together?"
Seris exhaled dramatically. "…fine."
---
We went outside.
Not to train, not to meditate—just to be.
The garden stretched under afternoon sunlight, soft wind brushing long blades of grass, petals drifting like gentle snow. Everything felt quieter, calmer, warmer.
Lira sat close enough our shoulders touched. Seris stretched out beside me like she owned the entire lawn, one hand behind her head, the other still suspiciously near mine.
Every time the breeze lifted, Lira tucked stray hair behind her ear—nervous, shy—and every time she did, she glanced at me like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to look for too long.
So I looked right back.
Her cheeks heated instantly.
Seris caught the expression and smirked, nudging my leg. "Smooth."
I nudged back. "Jealous?"
Before Seris could answer, Lira murmured, soft and completely sincere:
"She doesn't have to be."
Seris froze.
Not offended. Just… surprised.
I took both their hands slowly—one in each of mine.
"No competition," I said quietly.
Lira leaned her head on my shoulder, voice warm. "No hierarchy."
Seris looked away, swallowing hard. "You two are going to give me heart problems."
"You already have heart problems," I teased gently.
Seris shot me a warning look, but even she couldn't hide the tiny smile forming.
The sun warmed everything around us.
Nothing demanded our attention. No entity called. No fracture pulled.
Just sunlight. Just grass. Just us.
---
After a while, Lira whispered:
"Do you think… this is what normal feels like?"
Seris answered before I could.
"No. This is better."
I turned my head slightly. "Why?"
Seris's voice dropped. "Because we earned it."
Lira smiled softly. "Together."
I inhaled deeply—letting peace settle in places fear used to live.
And somewhere deep inside… the fracture pulsed,
not like a warning, but like a quiet sigh—
content.