“If they could be,” he said, more to the fire than to her, “We would have helped Our brother centuries ago. We would have gentled him, as you have tried.”
He turned back to her then. The fire danced in his eyes.
“But alas,” he murmured, “We must send him to war again and again…only to offer him reprieve from the Wolf’s bite, never a cure.”
His voice dropped, almost tender. “We suspect that burden is now yours,ilphara.”
Did you hear that? I am your burden. Yours.
Auryn hesitated. Once.
Then again.
Finally, in a voice barely more than breath, she whispered, “There is a symbol which eludes me. In the text.”
Shu’Khan looked up at once. His eyes sparked with interest.
“Draw it for Us.”
Without another word, she stepped closer to the divan and sank to her knees on the polished floor. Lifting her fingers, she summoned a ribbon of mana, shaping it delicately into the ancient symbol—each curve precise, each flick of light a scholar’s devotion. It shimmered briefly before embedding itself into the stone.
Shu’Khan’s eyes followed her hands with genuine interest.
“Somar’a,”he murmured. “And what have you tried to couple it with?”
“Uth’red. Vit’ris. Con’vrey.”She spoke quickly now, thoughts spilling out in momentum. “Reversing their ley can suppress pain, but without this symbol…” Her fingers hovered over the fading glyph. “WithoutSomar’a, I’ve made no progress.”
He made a low humming sound—curious, pleased, almost melodic. Then, with liquid grace, he slipped from the divan and knelt beside her. Still, he did not touch. But he came close enough that the scent of his Sahtra oil—ambered, spiced, bitter—brushed the edge of her breath.
His fingertips lit golden with mana.
“Try this way,ilphara,” he said, drawing smooth strokes in the air above hers. “The northern string, then eastern. Then the ley atop, like this…”
Auryn’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened as he completed the arrangement—and then, like a storm breaking, understanding crashed through her.
“That’s right!” she gasped, surging to her feet. “Of course! How did I not see it?”
She reached into the folds of her robes, retrieving parchment and stylus with frantic energy. Uncapping the tip, she scratched down the sequence with practiced speed, whispering under her breath as if afraid the revelation would vanish before she could trap it in ink.
“I’ll try it tonight,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Thismustbe the breakthrough I’ve been searching for. If I add Lustral supports, and stabilize the ley drift, and maybe bring in the lower cluster—”
She stopped mid-sentence.
Froze.
Her eyesflicked to Shu’Khan.
First, you answer me. Now, you answer him.
He was still kneeling. Still close. Watching her not with smugness or triumph, but with something far more dangerous.
He was smiling.
Like a god watching his chosen disciple stumble into faith.
Auryn’s stomach dropped.
She tucked the parchment away, eyes narrowing, walls slamming back into place behind her irises.
