The sun filtered through thin clouds as Cale crouched low in the training courtyard, breathing steadily. The failed rat chase from earlier had left him humbler, more grounded. Now, Aleric stood beside him, arms folded, observing him with that unfathomable stare.
"You've stabilized your Divine Flow," Aleric said. "Now it's time to test your reach."
Cale straightened. "You want me to use the vision again?"
"Yes. But farther this time. Not just what you want to see, but as far as you can. Let the power stretch you."
Mira circled overhead, silent as ever.
Emis, sprawled nearby on a low wall, cracked an eye open. "Try not to break your little mortal brain."
Cale ignored him. He closed his eyes. Let the Divine Flow build behind his mark, rise through his spine, and settle behind his eyes.
Light dimmed.
And the world shifted.
______________
It was like being suspended between waves of light. Images flared, disappeared, scattered like paper caught in wind.
A merchant arguing over coin. A woman sweeping dust from a shrine. A child scraping a knee on cobble.
None of it mattered.
He pushed farther.
The haze thickened. A wall of fog at the outer rim of his range. His breath caught as he forced himself forward, reaching beyond the comfortable, into the blur.
Then he saw it.
A man. Standing at a street corner in a rundown town. A bottle in hand. A cloak around his shoulders.
And beneath that cloak, just visible, a jagged tattoo under the collarbone.
An eye.
Cale's blood went cold.
Regan had told him.
The kidnappers at the facility bore that exact mark.
Cale jerked out of the vision like surfacing from deep water.
"I saw him," he gasped. "A man. With the same tattoo. The eye. Just like at the facility."
Aleric's head snapped toward him. "Where?"
"Town edge. Near the west docks. He was drinking."
_______________
Hours later, the man was in chains.
Aleric had moved swiftly, Mira diving ahead to track him like a shadow. Cale stood in the hallway outside the chamber where they kept the captive.
When the door opened, Aleric stepped out, expression unreadable.
"He knows about Emilia," Aleric said. "He called her by name. Said she kept the girl. That she took one of the children from the facility and never turned her over."
Cale's heart slammed into his ribs.
"Rosanna?"
"Most likely. But he doesn't know where she's being held. He was just a messenger. A courier between cells."
Cale balled his fists. "We have to find her. Now."
Aleric nodded. "We'll split up. The courier mentioned a name. A checkpoint in the north, a safehouse in the forests near Endreth. I'll take that lead."
"Then I go south."
Aleric met his gaze. "To Theros."
Mira landed quietly on a fencepost.
Across from her, Emis was already watching.
Their eyes met.
And Mira thought silently:
The cat knew all along.
______________
The classroom smelled of parchment, sun-warmed stone, and the faint trace of ozone—a residual scent from the lessons that came before. Rows of wide benches, each carved from pale marble, formed an amphitheater that overlooked a blackboard scrawled with clean white script.
Seren sat near the middle, straight-backed and quiet, hands folded neatly in her lap.
A lecture hall.
And she felt more out of place here than she had at court.
"There are five primary elemental alignments," the instructor said, his robes flowing as he strode across the dais. He looked to be in his late fifties, with silver-streaked hair and a voice that cut clean through the murmurs of the hall.
"Fire, Water, Earth, Air, and Light."
With each word, he tapped a rune glowing faintly on the board.
"These are not metaphors. They are cores. Each Elementalist forms a bond with the world through one of these alignments."
Seren's gaze followed the lines of glowing script. She had heard this before. Bits and pieces. But never like this.
"Beyond the core five," the man continued, "there are branches—lesser affinities born from combinations or evolutions of the primaries. Fog. Lightning. Ice. Metal. Flora."
He paused.
"Water can shape into Ice, or Mist. Fire into Lightning. Earth into Metal or Plant. Air into Sound. Light into Mirage. These are branch elements.
Seren felt the spirit floating behind her shift, a cool breeze brushing her neck. The jellyfish girl pulsed once, like a heartbeat of moonlight.
The instructor noticed.
He smiled faintly. "Those rare among you who've formed a spirit bond will find your affinity reflected in them. Spirits amplify what already exists within you. They do not change your path—they deepen it."
Seren bit her lip.
It was still strange. Still surreal.
She had never studied any of this. She hadn't read books, hadn't grown up surrounded by court tutors. She had dock work, wind-chapped cheeks, and her mother's apron strings.
But now?
Now she was the one being watched.
"Elementalists grow by three means," the instructor continued. "Practice. Resonance. And strain. Practice is obvious. Resonance occurs when you are near another Elementalist or spirit of similar frequency. And strain..."
His gaze swept the room.
"...is self-explanatory."
Seren swallowed.
Strain.
The word pressed against her ribs like a stone.
"Each of you will come to understand your element through these lenses. Each of you will walk your path differently. Some slowly. Some in fire."
She lowered her eyes. Her hands were trembling slightly.
She didn't know which path she was on.
But it already felt like fire.
_____________
The morning mist still lingered along the manor's lower courtyard when Cale stepped outside, boots crunching on dew-slick gravel. The air was chilled, the sky pale with dawn, but his heart pounded loud enough to fill the silence.
His satchel was slung over one shoulder. Light, but heavy with consequence. Aleric had arranged the supplies: money, documents, a travel cloak bearing no house crest.
Emis walked beside him in cat form, tail high and flicking in measured agitation.
"You're really going," the Yvelin said with a false yawn. "And here I was getting used to the soft bed and warm tea."
"I'm not going for leisure," Cale replied dryly. "I'm going because someone has to." His voice caught. "Because Rosanna might still be alive."
Emis fell silent. He didn't argue.
At the base of the steps, Aleric stood waiting, Mira perched on his shoulder.
The noble wore black traveling leathers despite not going with him. His hands were clasped behind his back, his gaze unreadable as always.
"Your journey will be watched," Aleric said as Cale approached. "Theros is not as quiet as it pretends to be. Many eyes linger on the capital, and not all of them are friendly."
Cale nodded. "I'll keep low."
Aleric handed him a scroll case. "Inside is a forged identity. Use it. Don't mention your name unless you trust the air you breathe."
Cale took it, then hesitated. "Will we see each other again?"
Aleric looked down at him for a long moment. Then, to Cale's surprise, he smiled.
"The world isn't so large as it seems, Cale Varn. And you're going to make a ripple so wide it'll come back to me whether I want it to or not."
Mira clicked her beak. "Keep your instincts sharp, boy. You're stepping into layers even your visions won't pierce yet."
Cale looked to Emis.
The cat met his gaze. "Let's go make some trouble."
And with that, Cale turned and walked down the path, toward the road that would take him to Theros.
The capital.
And everything waiting there in the shadows.