Rowan drew a quiet breath, adjusting his stance. “Very well,” he said, voice carefully composed. “We’ll proceed.”
She sensed that every person in the room understood: nothing about this evaluation would be what they’d expected.
Rowan lifted a hand, and the sigils in the ring shifted in color, rotating through layers of pale gold and blue. “Focus on maintaining your resonance. Nothing more.”
Penelope closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. The air responded, tightening around her, drawing inward, as if her magic recognized the command before she’d given it. The runes around the ring brightened again.
Seraphine murmured, “Her stabilization curve is unusually clean…”
Jorren snorted softly. “For someone untrained, that’s impossible.”
Rowan silenced him with a look. “Next metric, Lady Penelope. Extend a defensive ward. Minimal force.”
Penelope lifted her hands. She meant to form a small barrier. Something simple. Controlled. Instead, the moment she summoned the arcane thread, the circle exploded upward in a dome of shimmering white light, bright enough to throw shadows across the far walls. Rowan staggeredback. Jorren’s hand immediately went to the weapon at his hip. Seraphine shielded her eyes.
Mingxi didn’t move. His gaze followed every ripple in the magic, calculating, measuring, as if confirming something he had already begun to suspect.
Penelope opened her eyes, startled. “I-I didn’t mean to do that.”
Rowan stared at the still-glowing dome, voice tight. “This is not moonwell magic.”
“No,” Seraphine whispered. “It’s her own.”
Jorren stepped forward, jaw clenched. “Then why in the hells was it dormant until now?”
Penelope swallowed. “Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I never learned how to use it.”
Mingxi finally spoke, quiet but cutting through the tension. “She did not overextend. Her output matched her intent. The amplification is natural.”
Rowan nodded reluctantly. “Agreed. Lady Penelope… retract the ward.”
She reached for the magic again, expecting resistance or effort. It folded away instantly. Clean. Precise. As if the spell respected her. Silence filled the hall.
Rowan exhaled. “Training will be mandatory. Immediately.”
Jorren crossed his arms. “I want her assessed daily. Every school of arcane combat. No exceptions.”
Seraphine nodded. “We will need to monitor for fluctuations.”
Penelope felt the weight of all their eyes but forced her shoulders straight. “Tell me what I need to do.”
Rowan lifted his chin. “We’ll begin with three hours daily. Two with Mingxi. One with the Guardians. Then tactical briefings with the Council.”
Jorren added, “And if you lose control even once—”
“She won’t.” Mingxi’s voice was soft, but the finality in it made Jorren glare.
The tension only broke when Rowan gestured toward the door. “That will do for today. Rest, Lady Penelope. You will need it.”
Penelope nodded, legs trembling with a fatigue she hadn’t fully registered before. Mingxi walked her back through the Ossuaire without speaking, as if sensing how thinly she was holding herself together.
When they reached her chamber, she whispered, “Thank you.”
Mingxi bowed. “Until morning.”
She made it two steps into the room before collapsing onto the bed, not even bothering to remove her shoes. Sleep swallowed her instantly.
The next day began before she was ready… a knock at her door came. A summons. A Council chamber already full when she arrived. Rowan reviewing sigils on floating screens, Jorren arguing about security parameters, and Seraphine calmly outlining threat models.
