Everyone seemed to think I had answers simply because I’d stepped into this role, because the Academy invited me, because ancient magic hummed when I walked past.
But I was still figuring it out. I was still learning and doubting myself with every other breath.
“I’m afraid,” I said, the truth slipping out before I could stop it. “Not just of what might happen out there. But what happens if I get this wrong?”
A maple branch creaked softly overhead, bending without breaking.
So are they.
That stopped me.
I opened my eyes and looked around, really looked, at the Ward as if seeing it for the first time. The maple trees weren’t rigid. They weren’t brittle. They bent with the wind. They shed what they needed to. They adapted to the seasons instead of fighting them.
The orcs weren’t marching because they wanted war.
They were marching because their world had stopped supporting them.
“You’re telling me to meet them where they are,” I whispered. “Not where I want them to be.”
The Ward answered with warmth that spread through my chest, slow and steady.
Offer what you can. Ask what you must. Listen more than you speak.
I nodded, a little laugh slipping out of me despite the tension coiled tight in my ribs. “That’s not very specific.”
The leaves swirled again, this time playful.
Neither is growth.
I sank down onto a low stone at the center of the Ward, resting my elbows on my knees. My mind raced despite the calm around me. What could I offer thousands of orcs without overpromising? Temporary refuge? Mediation? A voice against the Priestess’s influence?
What could I ask without sounding like yet another authority figure trying to steer them?
Peace. Time. Choice.
“Choice,” I repeated softly.
That felt right.
They deserved the chance to choose something other than desperation.
The light in the Ward dimmed slightly, like the moment just before dusk. I felt it before the pain arrived—a familiar, unwelcome heat blooming against my hip.
My birthmark burned.
It wasn’t a warning this time. It was a summons.
I sucked in a sharp breath, pressing my hand to my side as the sensation intensified, bright and insistent. The Ward’s warmth shifted, no longer reflective but urging.
Time’s up.
I wasn’t sure which one of us thought it.
“I know,” I said through clenched teeth. “I’m going.”
The pain flared once more, then settled into a steady throb, the kind that didn’t allow hesitation. My path was set, whether I felt ready or not.
I stood, brushing leaves from my clothes as the Ward seemed to draw closer, the trees leaning inward slightly, enclosing me in a cocoon of gold and red.
