Chagan's body hit the ground hard, but Akbota caught him before his head struck stone. She fell to her knees, cradling him with trembling arms.
"Chagan. Chagan, open your eyes," she whispered, voice breaking.
He didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
Akbota's panic sharpened into fury. She turned on Snow-Mouth.
"HELP HIM!"
Snow-Mouth knelt immediately, placing both hands on Chagan's chest. "There is breath. Weak, but present."
Akbota looked like she might collapse again.
Ayisulu sagged in Arslan's arms — she could barely stand after the strain of the wind burst. Her vision blurred, her pulse thundered in her ears.
Arslan held her tighter. "Ayisulu. Look at me. Stay awake."
"I'm… fine," she breathed.
"That's a lie."
"Maybe."
Erlan moved closer. "She needs rest."
Arslan shot him a glare. "I know."
Ayisulu wanted to tell them both to stop arguing, but her body felt too heavy.
Chagan suddenly gasped — every muscle convulsing at once.
Akbota cried out his name.
His eyes snapped open — but they were wrong.
Not the warm, laughing amber they had always been.
No — they glowed faintly silver, as if moonlight lived in them.
Snow-Mouth recoiled. "Step back!"
Arslan pulled Ayisulu aside instantly.
Erlan reached for his dagger.
Akbota held Chagan closer, refusing to let go. "NO! He's alive!"
Chagan's lips parted.
But the voice that came out wasn't his.
It was hers.
The Shadow Weaver.
"Did you enjoy your little victory?" the voice whispered through Chagan's mouth. His face twisted unnaturally. "Breaking one thread does not undo a tapestry."
Akbota flinched, but didn't release him.
Arslan stepped forward, blade drawn. "Let him go."
Chagan's body convulsed again — head snapping back, eyes still glowing. His voice turned low, distorted.
"Ayisulu…"
Ayisulu froze.
Every hair on her arms rose.
"I felt your wind," the Shadow Weaver whispered through him. "Such a bright spark. Such a fragile thread."
Arslan moved instantly, placing himself in front of Ayisulu. "I said—LET HIM GO."
Chagan laughed — but it was not a laugh any human throat should make.
"Oh, prince. You think you can protect her from what she is?"
Ayisulu stepped forward.
Arslan grabbed her arm. "No."
She shook him off gently. "I need to hear this."
The Weaver's voice grew silk-smooth.
"You see pieces of truth, child. But you do not know what you're seeing. You don't know why your dreams come. Or why your blood sings to the wind."
Ayisulu's heart hammered painfully. "Then tell me."
The Shadow Weaver smiled through Chagan's lips.
"Come to me, Ayisulu. And I will show you."
Wind tightened around her hands, responding to fear and anger both.
"I'll never come to you."
The Weaver chuckled.
"We will see."
Then Chagan's back arched violently — and he collapsed into Akbota's arms, unconscious.
The silver left his eyes.
Ayisulu exhaled shakily. "Is he…?"
Snow-Mouth checked his pulse. "Alive. But exhausted. And marked."
"Marked?" Akbota's voice cracked.
"Yes," Snow-Mouth said gravely. "The Weaver touched his mind. She left something behind."
Arslan sheathed his sword with a snap. "We burn it out."
"You cannot burn illusions," Snow-Mouth said. "But we may be able to soften the mark. In time."
Ayisulu looked down at her hands — trembling not from fear, but from something else.
Power.
It hummed under her skin like a restless storm.
Erlan noticed. "Your hands… Ayisulu, they're glowing."
She looked.
He was right.
Thin streaks of blue light danced across her fingers — like veins of lightning. They pulsed with her heartbeat.
The others backed away unconsciously.
Ayisulu felt the wind coil around her ankles, then climb upward like a curious animal. "What… is happening to me?"
Snow-Mouth stared. "The Nogai-Blik. It touched your gift. It awakened more than you could control."
Arslan stepped toward her immediately — not afraid, not hesitating.
"Ayisulu, breathe."
"I can't—Arslan—I don't know how to stop it—"
He grabbed her wrists gently, thumbs brushing the glowing veins.
"Look at me."
Her breath hitched.
"Good," he murmured. "Now breathe with me."
She matched his inhalation.
Matched his exhale.
Slowly… painfully… the glow softened.
Her wind calmed.
Her pulse steadied.
Arslan didn't release her hands even after the glow faded entirely.
Erlan didn't look away either.
Snow-Mouth sighed. "You are changing, Ayisulu. Faster than expected."
Akbota, holding Chagan protectively, asked quietly, "What does that mean for her?"
Snow-Mouth answered:
"It means the Cloud Monastery may be the only place that can teach her to survive."
Silence fell.
Bair finally said, "So… we really are going to the mythical floating temple. Very casual."
Temir nodded. "Adventure of the year."
Kanykei muttered, "Adventure of my nightmares."
Ayisulu lowered her head, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't want anyone else hurt because of me."
Arslan lifted her chin with one finger—slowly, gently.
"You didn't hurt anyone," he said.
"You saved him."
Akbota nodded fiercely. "If not for you, Chagan would be dead."
Ayisulu blinked back tears. "But the Weaver used him. Because of me."
Arslan leaned closer, eyes burning with fierce conviction.
"She will use anything she can," he said softly. "But she does not decide your path."
Erlan added, more quietly, "And she doesn't decide ours."
The group exchanged looks.
Determined.
Scared.
United.
Snow-Mouth rose. "Then it is time. We head to the cliffs. To the Cloud Monastery."
Ayisulu felt the wind curl around her again — gently this time, like an embrace.
She whispered, "I hope they can teach me."
Snow-Mouth responded:
"They can. But they will ask a price."
Ayisulu tensed. "What kind of price?"
Snow-Mouth looked at her with unreadable eyes.
"The truth."