“I do.”
"Air flows, water moves, earth grounds, fire burns, but time simplyis, and you have a connection with it. Through that connectionyou can guide the threads of time to slow down. Try it, and the moment you feel the change in your magic, tell us. We’ll do the rest.” She glanced at the failing barrier, then back at me. "You have to do itnow.”
“Okay, I’m ready.” As ready as I’d ever be.
She gave me a nod of encouragement. So did Alaric.
Unsteady legs moved me toward Wolfe, and I swore the sword's corruption seemed to sense my approach. The black veins pulsed faster as if trying to drain him completely before I could act.
I held my hands over the blade, close enough to feel its malevolent heat but careful not to touch the cursed metal.
I drew in a breath and searched for my magic.
I searched through the parts of me, beyond the locator spell.
But… nothing answered.
Not even the spark I’d felt days ago when I sat in the garden back home gazing at the forest. That day I’d known something was different with my magic, even though I had no recent points of reference. I’d just felt different. Different enough to know something inside me had shifted away from how magic had felt before the curse.
But I didn’t know how to access it.
I hadn’t had enough time to review the spells I’d recorded in my journal that would have helped me connect. And even if time were on my side, there’d been so much to take in.
So many truths.Toomany.
Panic clawed up my throat as I focused deeper, scraping against the hollow places inside me.
Still nothing.
The silence inside was terrifying, like standing at the edge of a cliff and waiting to fall.
Then… a thin pull grazed the edge of my awareness.
It felt like a filament snagging on my mind, delicate but insistent, tugging inward.
I stilled, afraid to breathe, and the world shifted around that single sensation.
I blinked, then suddenly in the ash-choked light, faint threads shimmered where there should’ve been nothing at all.Delicate, silver-dark strands curled through the air, weaving around the sword’s corruption.
Nyzith strands.
They were Nyzith strands.
They swayed gently, like they were caught in a current only they could feel.
Follow the Nyzith strands,Mother’s voice echoed through me.They will lead you to your destiny.
One strand drifted toward me,towardWolfe, hovering above the blade like it was waiting for permission. Like it had been waiting forme.
I exhaled, slow and trembling, and let my focus catch on that thread the way a hand caught a rope in the dark.
Guide me,I begged silently, and the strand shivered, then stretched forward, pointing straight into the moment I needed most.
Then I felt it. A vibrant sensation deep inside my chest.
And I knew with certainty it was my magic.
I coaxed it to flow through my hands, and the elements responded. The air stilled around us. Earth settled deeper where I stood. And even the ash hung suspended in the gray light.
