Walliam did not sleep.
Not because of fear.
Because of awareness.
The wooden token rested in his palm as he lay awake in the dim room of the inn, listening to the breath of the others. The Listener's words looped in his mind.
Bridges choose what crosses.
He had always thought the mark was a door someone else opened.
But doors swung both ways.
The mark in his chest hummed faintly, like distant wind through hollow stone. Threads stretched outward from him — he could feel them now, subtle lines of connection to the Beacons, to the fractures in the sky.
Before, they had been open roads.
Now he imagined them narrowing.
Shaping.
He closed his eyes.
And reached inward.
The world softened.
Not a vision — something closer to awareness without sight.
The threads appeared around him like lines of light in darkness. Some were warm, steady — Beacons. Others were jagged, sharp — fractures. And further out…
Cold points.
Watching.
He felt the pull toward one of them.
A distant presence pressing gently against a thread.
Testing.
He didn't panic.
He placed his hand — in this inner space — over the thread.
And changed its shape.
Not cutting.
Curving.
Redirecting.
The cold presence slipped past, unable to follow the new path.
The pressure faded.
Walliam gasped awake.
His chest burned, but not painfully. Like a muscle used properly for the first time.
He smiled.
He had done it.
Morning brought motion.
Kael was already issuing orders to her riders when Walliam stepped outside. The settlement was stirring, unaware that the sky had nearly been probed again in the night.
Elaris studied him carefully. "You look… different."
"Better different or concerning different?" Torren asked, chewing bread.
"Both," she said.
Walliam held up the wooden token. "I think I can steer the connections now. Not just react."
Kael approached. "Show me."
He hesitated. "I need something to push against."
As if the world had been waiting, a distant boom rolled across the plains.
Everyone froze.
Another followed.
Not thunder.
Impact.
A pillar of pale light stabbed into the sky far to the east.
Elaris's eyes widened. "Beacon surge."
Kael mounted instantly. "That's two days' ride."
Walliam felt it like a shout through the threads.
Pain.
Corruption flaring.
And beneath it—
Something else listening.
"We go," Kael said.
Walliam nodded.
No hesitation this time.
They rode hard.
The plains gave way to broken terrain — jagged stone, dry riverbeds, land scarred by old fractures. The sky grew hazier, the air charged.
By sunset, they reached a ridge overlooking a canyon.
At its center stood a Beacon.
Smaller than Aethrune's, but intact.
And drowning in purple-black veins.
A village clustered nearby — buildings cracked, people running, crystal growths spreading along the ground like frost.
Shard-beasts prowled the outskirts.
But above it all…
A ripple in the sky.
Faint.
Waiting.
"It's escalating," Elaris whispered.
Kael looked to Walliam. "Your move, Gate."
He swallowed.
"Hold the creatures back. I need space."
Torren grinned grimly. "Finally. A plan that isn't 'panic artistically.'"
They descended into chaos.
Shard-beasts lunged from alleys. The Severed Path met them with disciplined strikes. Elaris shielded fleeing villagers in arcs of light.
Walliam reached the Beacon.
Up close, the corruption felt louder than Aethrune's had — raw, uncontrolled.
He placed his hand on the crystal.
The scream of memory flooded him — fear, pain, confusion.
But he did not drown.
He shaped the thread.
Not just pulling light in.
Pushing interference out.
The purple veins resisted — then loosened.
Above, the sky ripple sharpened.
Something tried to peer through.
Walliam felt it.
And did not let it.
He folded the connection inward, creating a bend, a barrier.
The presence struck the curve and slid away, unable to see through.
The Beacon flared bright blue.
Corruption cracked and fell like shattered glass.
Around him, shard-beasts staggered, crystal growths crumbling.
Elaris laughed breathlessly. "It's working!"
Torren yelled, "Do that faster next time!"
The last of the corruption burned away.
The Beacon stood clear.
And the sky above went still.
Silence spread across the canyon.
Villagers stared in shock.
Kael approached slowly. "You didn't just heal it."
"No," Walliam said, breathing hard.
"I blocked the echo outward."
She nodded once. Respect, now — not just caution.
Elaris stepped beside him, eyes shining. "You changed the rules."
Walliam looked at the sky.
"For now."
Far beyond sight, something adjusted.
He felt it.
Learning.
So was he.