By midday, the forest gave way to a broken old road—stone slabs cracked by roots, half-swallowed by moss. The canopy thinned, letting thin winter light spill through like pale ribbons.
Maera slowed and raised a fist.
Elowen stopped instantly.
I was still in the sling against her chest, hood up, presence folded inward. Her heartbeat was steady, but the bond told me she was listening the way a hunted thing listens—for patterns that don't belong.
"What is it?" Elowen whispered.
Maera crouched and touched the road. "Fresh scuffs. Wheel marks. Recent."
Elowen's eyes narrowed. "A caravan?"
"Or a patrol," Maera said. "Or bait."
I swallowed. The tug on my name had been quiet for the last mile, but the memory pressure—black water, chains—still lingered like a bruise.
Then I heard it.
Not with ears.
With sword-sense I didn't fully understand yet.
A tremor in the air ahead—panic, movement, a burst of hostile intent.
People, I whispered through the bond. Ahead. Running.
Elowen's posture tightened. "How many?"
I focused, straining. "Five… no—more. Ten? And something chasing."
Maera's eyes sharpened. "Move."
We left the road and pushed through brush, staying low. The sound reached us next—footsteps, shouting, a child crying. Then a snap of something like a whip made of darkness.
We broke through the trees into a small clearing—
—and I saw them.
A merchant wagon tipped onto its side. Two horses gone, harnesses cut. A cluster of travelers—men and women, one old man clutching his arm, two kids pressed against their mother—backing away from three figures in ragged cloaks.
The cloaked figures weren't normal bandits.
Their shadows moved wrong. Too long. Too hungry.
One raised a hand and a thin black thread flicked out, slicing the air. It hit the ground and left a smoking line.
"Give us the girl," the leader hissed, voice like wet ash. "And we let the rest limp away."
The mother pulled her children tighter, trembling. "Please—please, we have nothing—"
The shadow figure laughed softly. "You have what we need."
Elowen's jaw clenched.
Maera's voice was a low knife. "We can't expose the sword."
Elowen answered just as quietly, just as sharp. "We can't leave them."
I felt Elowen's anger rise—and with it, a dangerous urge in me to flare bright and smash everything.
Maera's earlier words snapped into place: shape, not power.
Elowen touched the sling strap.
"Rin," she whispered through the bond. "Can you do quiet defense?"
I swallowed. > Yes.
Elowen's hand rested lightly over my back. A steadying anchor that wasn't magic, but felt like it.
I'm going to slip to sword form, I warned. Just for a moment. Don't let them see the glow.
Elowen nodded almost imperceptibly and stepped behind a tree at the edge of the clearing.
Maera moved too, angled to flank.
I focused—tight, controlled—then snapped into Lumenward with a clean re-sheath.
Elowen's hand caught my hilt under her cloak.
My runes dimmed immediately, hooded inward, like my light was holding its breath.
Elowen stepped out—alone, hood up, cloak plain enough to pass for a traveler.
"Hey," she called, voice calm.
The shadow figures turned.
The leader's gaze locked on her. "Another offering."
Elowen lifted her empty hands. "Leave them. Take the wagon's goods. No one needs to die."
The leader's grin widened. "You don't understand. We're not here for coin."
Maera's voice was a whisper behind us. "They're hunting bloodlines."
One of the shadowed figures tilted its head like it smelled something sweet. "That one," it said, pointing toward Elowen. "She's bright."
Elowen's grip tightened on my hidden hilt.
I felt her fear—not for herself.
For the family behind the wagon.
On your signal, I sent.
Elowen's eyes flicked, just once, toward the mother and kids.
Then back to the shadow leader.
"Last warning," Elowen said, voice dropping cold. "Walk away."
The leader raised its hand.
A black thread snapped toward Elowen's throat.
Elowen moved—
—and I cast, quiet as a held breath.
PLATE.
A barrier formed so close to her skin it looked like nothing at all.
The thread struck and vanished, snuffed out against invisible defense.
The shadow leader froze.
Elowen didn't waste the moment. She stepped forward fast, cloak snapping open—
—and drew me.
My blade appeared in her hand, but my runes stayed dim, my glow muted.
Still, the air changed.
The shadows recoiled like dogs seeing a torch.
Maera surged from the left, crescent blade flashing, cutting low to force them back from the civilians.
Elowen took the right, placing herself between the shadow figures and the family.
I could feel her intent become a wall.
Boost? I asked.
Elowen's answer was immediate. > Lightly. Don't burn out.
I opened the bond just enough.
HEROINE'S RISE flowed into her—controlled, not flooding.
Elowen's stance sharpened. Her reaction time snapped crisp.
The leader hissed. "That sword—"
"Back," Elowen commanded.
The shadow figures attacked together.
Threads lashed like whips, aiming around Elowen to strike the mother and kids—because they'd realized that was how to break her.
I didn't let them.
Not with a big bulwark.
With precision.
Plate on the left. Dome for the kids. Plate again, tighter. A sliding shield that redirected a thread into the dirt.
Elowen moved like she'd trained her whole life for this exact moment: not chasing kills, not showing off—holding space.
Maera took advantage, slicing the shadow leader's cloak.
The cloth tore—
and what was underneath wasn't skin.
It was smoke held in a shape, with a rune-brand glowing in its chest like a coal.
Maera's eyes widened. "Marked constructs!"
Elowen's gaze hardened. "Summoned."
The leader lunged for Elowen's hand—straight for my hilt.
A capture attempt.
My runes flared hot with instinctive rage.
But Maera's warning echoed: don't answer. don't overflare. don't become a beacon.
So I did something else.
I defended myself.
Not with a wall.
With denial.
I folded my presence inward hard—so hard the leader's grasp passed just a finger-width short, like it couldn't quite locate the edge of me.
Elowen used the miss to pivot and slam the leader back with the flat of my blade—controlled force, not lethal.
It stumbled.
Maera's crescent blade flashed, severing the rune-brand line that connected the construct to its caster.
The leader shuddered—then collapsed into smoke that sank into the soil and evaporated.
The other two constructs hesitated.
For half a second, they looked… lost.
Then they retreated into the treeline like shadows being pulled away by a larger darkness.
The clearing went silent except for heavy breathing.
The mother collapsed to her knees, clutching her children. "Thank you—thank you—"
Elowen sheathed me quickly, hiding my shape again beneath her cloak.
Maera stepped forward, scanning the woods. "Move them. Now. The caster will feel the disconnect."
Elowen nodded, then turned to the family.
"Can you walk?" she asked gently.
The old man hissed through pain but nodded. "Yes."
Elowen moved to help—and as she did, she glanced down, instinctively checking the sling strap.
Except I wasn't in it anymore.
I'd shifted to sword form.
Still, her expression softened like she was checking on a child.
"Mommy?" I murmured into the bond without thinking.
Elowen froze for half a heartbeat.
Then, very quietly, very warmly, she answered through the link:
I'm here.
The mother looked up, confused. "Who—?"
Elowen cleared her throat fast. "No one. It's— it's fine."
Maera shot Elowen a look that said focus, but she didn't mock. Not this time.
We guided the family off the road and into the deeper trees, toward the next mile-stone.
As we walked, the tug on my name returned—faint, curious.
Not frantic.
Patient.
Like whatever was behind the seal had just watched me defend people… and approved.
A pressure brushed the edge of my mind, almost like a whisper shaped into a smile:
GOOD GIRL. KEEP PROTECTING.
My runes went cold.
Elowen felt it instantly. "Rin?"
I forced my voice steady through the bond.
Don't worry. I'm not answering it.
Elowen's grip tightened around my hidden hilt like she could crush fear itself.
You don't listen to it, she said. You listen to me.
And in that moment, with civilians limping behind us and enemies somewhere unseen ahead—
I clung to her words like they were the strongest barrier I'd ever cast.