The morning after the Trial of Dual Currents dawned crisp and clear, as if the skies themselves celebrated Arin and Lireya's triumph. Yet beneath the bright sunlight and the Academy's festive air, a tension thrummed—an unspoken reminder of the tasks still ahead.
Arin rose before the sun, the fragment's steady pulse beneath his pillow lulling him into wakefulness. He dressed in simple travel leathers, cinching his belt and slipping the indigo-bound codex into a satchel beside the fragment. Today, he would speak with Drayven about the fragment's "true purpose," and thereafter chart the course that might lead them to the Valley of Whispering Pines.
In the corridors, students murmured congratulations, and Professors greeted him with respectful nods. Lireya awaited him by the main doors to the Academy's inner wing, her silver hair braided back to keep it from tangling as they traveled. Around her neck hung a slender crystal vial filled with pale wind—Althé's restored breath, harvested during the ritual.
"Are you ready?" she asked, her blue core glowing softly in the morning light.
Arin offered a small smile. "As I'll ever be. I just hope Drayven has what we need."
They made their way to the principal tower, stepping past the Grand Atrium, where cleanup crews already dismantled the trial's braziers. Banners proclaiming Dual-Core mastery fluttered overhead, but Arin's eyes were fixed on the tower's carved oak door.
Inside, Drayven's study was bathed in gentle candlelight despite the daytime. The Headmaster stood behind his desk, hands folded over a map spread across its surface—mountains and rivers traced in fine ink, with the Valley of Whispering Pines marked at its heart.
"Come in," Drayven said quietly. His gaze was solemn, his usual authoritative presence subdued by weariness. "You performed admirably yesterday. Today, I owe you my candor."
Arin stepped forward, placing the fragment and codex on the desk. "Thank you, sir. We're prepared to learn what this fragment was meant to guard."
Drayven's eyes flicked to the crystal vial in Lireya's hand. "You took the bold step of restoring Althé's voice… and for that, you have my deepest gratitude." He folded his hands over the map. "The fragment is more than a record of the past. It is a keystone—a living seal that binds the wyrm's power within your ancestors' valley. If removed without the proper rites, it will shatter the wards and awaken the beast."
Arin's jaw tightened. "So our next move must be to reconstruct those rites."
Drayven nodded. "Precisely. The Codex of the First Binding—the ritual text—remains missing. It was lost when the Council fractured after the wyrm's fall. Some believe its pages lie scattered in forgotten ruins; others say they were consumed by the wyrm's dying breath." He exhaled, tracing the valley's outline. "But there is a clue. The fragment's veins—white emanating wind and black earth—mirror the emblem of the First Binding. If you examine the stones at the valley's seal, you may find echoes of the original glyphs."
Lireya's eyes gleamed. "A field expedition, then?"
Drayven's expression grew grave. "Yes—and perilous. The valley is quarantined by the Academy until the fragment is fully sealed. Bypassing the wards will require finesse: earth cores to mask your presence, wind cores to navigate the shifting storms that guard its passes." He looked to Arin. "This is why you were chosen. You carry both currents."
Arin placed a steady hand on the fragment's box. "We'll need supplies—and a guide who knows the mountain trails."
Drayven rose and opened a hidden cabinet behind his desk. Inside lay leather satchels, crystal flasks, and a rolled parchment inscribed with hastily drawn notes. He handed them to Lireya. "These will sustain you. As for a guide… I have one in mind."
Moments later, the heavy door swung open to admit a tall man wearing a mountain hunter's garb—thick furs, carved bone talismans, and a longbow slung across his back. His face was weathered, his gray-green eyes sharp.
"Kalem," Drayven said. "One of the few who has ventured near the valley's rim. He knows where the seal stones lie."
Kalem inclined his head to Arin and Lireya. "I owe my life to Althé's sacrifice," he said in a gravelly voice. "If the wyrm stirs again, it will devour us all. I will bring you to the old fortress—if you can keep up."
Arin stood a little taller. "We will."
Lireya tucked the fragment's box into her pack. "We leave at first light tomorrow."
Drayven laid a hand on Arin's shoulder. "May the currents guide you—and may you return with the Codex of the First Binding."
As they departed the tower, the late-morning sun glinted off the fragment's crystalline surface. Ahead lay mountain passes beset by storms, ancient glyphs hidden in stone, and the silent promise of a monstrous wyrm lying in wait. Yet beside Arin, Lireya walked with a certainty born of shared purpose—and Kalem's steady stride completed their trio.
Together, they would journey beyond the Academy's walls into the wilds of legend, where the fate of the Dual-Core legacy—and perhaps all of Dorothrel—hung upon their success.