POV: Kairo
I followed her scent.
Through the east gate. Past the training yard. Deep into the trees.
She'd run hard — not just fast, but wild, like something had cracked open inside her and she didn't care who saw the wreckage.
I called her name once.
The forest swallowed it whole.
The deeper I went, the more wrong the air became. Still. Dense. Watching. Like the trees themselves had eyes.
And then I felt it.
The wall.
Not physical — magical. A veil of ancient enchantment stretched like a spiderweb across the path ahead.
It shimmered when I reached for it.
Then burned.
The moment my fingers grazed it, I was thrown back five feet — slammed against a tree so hard the bark cracked under my weight.
I groaned and pushed myself up, coughing.
"What the hell…"
I tried again.
Same result. It rejected me.
Not because I was weak.
Because I didn't belong inside.
> "Lyra!" I shouted.
No answer.
Just the low groan of wind through ancient trees — and the sense that something had shifted.
Something sacred.
Something claimed her.
I circled the barrier, trying to find a break, a flaw, anything — but there was nothing. She was in a sealed pocket of magic, and I was locked out.
The forest didn't want me.
I sat down at the edge of the veil, heart pounding.
If she was in there, then she was alone.
But not unprotected.
Because this kind of magic? It didn't trap prey.
It chose its vessel.
And right now… it had chosen her.
For the first time in years, I felt powerless.
And worse — afraid.
Because the magic inside her wasn't sleeping anymore.
It was waking up.