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He glances toward Rhyven, who is speaking to one of his deputies near the banner. "You'll grow more here."

"That sounds rehearsed."

"It isn't." He looks at me.

"You didn't want your little sister interfering with your authority."

He grins. "That too." I narrow my eyes. Caelen smiles. Then becomes serious. "I know how to protect you." The words are familiar. "I'm not sure I know how to lead you." That honesty surprises me. He looks toward Sky Wing. "Rhyven won't confuse the two."

I follow his gaze. Rhyven is crouched beside Mira, the nervous siren, explaining something while she watches his hands. He demonstrates breathing. Slow. Measured. When she copies him, the tension leaves her shoulders. Then he stands and tells her to stop apologizing every time she takes up space. Blunt. Possibly rude. Not unkind.

"No," I say quietly. "He probably won't."

Caelen nudges my shoulder. "You'll be fine."

"That phrase remains meaningless." I scoff.

"Good. You're learning."

The eastern ward line begins beyond the dragon platforms. By sunset, our assigned group stands beneath a sky burning orange across the mountains. Mara Voss leads with the confidence of someone who has walked this path hundreds of times.

Tessa checks the platform anchors. Orin examines hairline fractures in the stone. Selena records the condition of every rune. I follow the ward markers.

Each is waist-high, carved from black stone and set at regular intervals along the cliff path. They hum faintly when touched. Protective magic. Ancient. Stable.

"What are we looking for?" I ask Mara.

"Damage."

"What kind?"

"Cracks. Fading. Magical inconsistency." She lists. "Has that happened?"

"Everything weakens eventually." She kneels beside a marker. "Wards are like people."

Selena looks up from her notes. "That sounds imprecise."

Mara smiles. "They fail quietly before they fail dramatically." That is more precise than I would like.

The inspection is uneventful. Platform anchors secure. Bridge enchantments stable. Residence paths clear. No first-years wandering where they should not. The sun sinks below the mountains.

One by one, the ward stones brighten beneath the approaching dark. All except one. I stop. The marker sits near the edge of the lower cliff, half-covered by silver moss. Its rune flickers. Once. Then stabilizes. "Did you see that?"

Selena turns. "What?"

"The ward."

Orin approaches and places both hands near the stone without touching it. His pale eyes sharpen. "No fracture."

Mara checks the rune. "Magic is intact."

"It flickered."

"Old wards do." Her answer is easy. Ordinary.

Probably correct. I look back along the path. Rhyven stands farther uphill with another inspection group. He has stopped too. His golden eyes are fixed on the same stone. Not me. The ward. For one moment, neither of us moves. Then the rune brightens fully. Steady. Normal. Rhyven looks toward Mara. She shakes her head once. No issue. He continues walking. So do we. Nothing happened. A momentary fluctuation. Old magic settling beneath nightfall.

One of a hundred ordinary explanations.