Zerrei slept like someone clinging to the last warmth in the world.
His arms were wrapped around Lyra, head buried against her shoulder, carved fingers locked into the back of her cloak. His breathing wasn't real breath—just the gentle hum of mana rising and falling in unsteady waves—but the rhythm was soft. Fragile.
Lyra sat with his head in her lap, refusing to move an inch from the circle where Oren had placed them.
She stroked the carved strands of his hair—fine wooden design, delicate runic texture—trying not to cry every time she noticed another crack.
His body wasn't just damaged.
It was splintered.
Thin fractures ran across his chest, along his ribs, and down both arms—lines of faint gold leaking through them like dim candlelight.
Arden stood guard nearby, leaning heavily on his sword despite the bruises coating half his body.
"He looks like he got drop-kicked by a god," Arden muttered.
Oren didn't look up from the notes he was scribbling in a frenzy.
"He was."
Arden glared.
"So helpful, Oren."
Lyra ignored them both, focusing on Zerrei's faint glow.
Her voice was soft, gentle, trembling.
"Zerrei… can you hear me?"
Zerrei stirred—just barely.
His brows tightened.
His fingers twitched.
He pressed closer to her chest.
"…Lyra…" he whispered, so faint she barely heard it.
Lyra's heart squeezed.
She bent to kiss the top of his carved forehead.
"I'm here," she whispered back.
His glow flickered weakly.
"…warm…"
She swallowed hard, stroking his cheek.
"You'll be okay. I promise."
THE GUILD EXAMINES HIM
Oren knelt across from them, careful not to touch the glowing circle.
"Lyra," he said quietly, "I need to examine him. May I?"
Lyra looked down at Zerrei.
He clung to her with both arms, like a frightened child refusing to let go.
She hesitated.
Zerrei trembled if she shifted even slightly.
"…Lyra… stay…"
Her heart cracked.
"I'm not leaving," she whispered.
Oren nodded slowly.
"Then keep holding him. Just tilt him enough for me to see his core."
Lyra shifted carefully, guiding Zerrei's upper body into her arms. He curled closer immediately, cheek pressed against her collarbone.
He made a soft noise—something almost like a whimper.
Arden's face softened.
"…He really is like a scared kid right now."
Lyra brushed Zerrei's hair again, soothing.
"He's exhausted. He pushed too far."
Oren leaned in with glowing fingertips, tracing the air above Zerrei's chest.
Runes appeared—pale, flickering, unstable.
Oren's voice changed instantly.
Serious.
Worried.
"…Lyra."
Lyra's heart dropped.
"What's wrong?"
Oren exhaled shakily.
"I'm detecting core fractures."
Lyra froze.
"C-core… fractures?"
Arden cursed under his breath.
"In human terms, that's like your heart literally cracking."
Oren nodded grimly.
"His soul-core endured a direct hit from the Creator's projection. The physical damage is severe but repairable. The problem is what's underneath."
"What do you mean?" Lyra whispered.
Oren pointed at the glowing fractures.
"The cracks aren't only physical. They're spiritual."
Lyra held Zerrei tighter.
"Will he break?"
Oren hesitated.
Zerrei stirred faintly at her alarm—his hand rising to graze her wrist.
"…Lyra… scared…?"
She shook her head quickly, kissing his temple.
"No. I'm not scared. I'm just worried."
Zerrei relaxed a little.
Arden sigh-laughed.
"He really reads her emotions like a book."
Oren nodded.
"That's exactly the problem."
THE PRICE OF BEING AN ANCHOR
Oren scribbled rapidly as he explained:
"A vessel's core was never designed to process emotion. The Creator made them to obey, not feel."
Lyra's stomach tightened.
"So when Zerrei awakened emotions…"
"He gained freedom," Oren said, "but also instability."
He gestured to the cracks.
"These fractures were caused by emotional overload. Fear. Panic. Protectiveness. And… love."
Lyra's breath caught.
"…love?"
Oren nodded.
"He poured everything into shielding you. His core released more energy than a vessel can handle."
Arden raised a brow.
"So he almost exploded from feelings?"
Lyra glared.
"Arden—!"
"It's a valid question!" he protested.
Oren sighed.
"Technically… yes."
Lyra looked down at Zerrei.
His carved face was peaceful—childlike—trusting.
"…He didn't care about himself," she whispered.
"He only cared about saving me."
Oren gestured helplessly.
"And this is the result. His entire core network burned itself raw."
Lyra hugged Zerrei tighter, feeling the faint vibration of his mana against her chest.
"…I shouldn't have let him fight."
Arden shook his head.
"You didn't make him do anything. He chose that."
Oren added softly:
"And that is the miracle and tragedy of a vessel who evolved."
Lyra's grip tightened around Zerrei.
"I won't let him break."
Zerrei nuzzled weakly into her neck.
"…Lyra… safe…"
Her tears almost fell.
THE FIRST DIAGNOSIS
Oren straightened.
"Here's what we need to do."
Lyra looked up sharply.
"Tell me."
"There are three layers to his damage."
Oren pointed:
1. Physical fractures
Fixable with magic and rest.
2. Core overextension
His mana pathways are unstable.
3. Soul-core burnout
The most dangerous.
This is what nearly killed him.
Lyra held Zerrei's hand tightly.
"How do we fix the third?"
Oren hesitated.
"…We don't."
Lyra's heart shattered.
"W-what do you mean?!"
Oren looked at her gently.
"Zerrei has to fix it himself."
Arden frowned.
"How?! He's basically unconscious!"
Oren explained:
"He needs emotional stabilization. He needs consistent resonance. He needs… Lyra."
Lyra felt Zerrei tighten his arms around her as if he heard that.
"…Lyra… stay…"
She stroked his back.
"I'm right here."
Oren nodded.
"Your presence is medicine to him. You stabilize his core better than any rune."
Lyra nodded fiercely.
"I'll stay. Whatever it takes."
Zerrei Wakes (Just a Little)
A faint hum vibrated through Zerrei's chest.
His eyes opened halfway—glowing dim, unfocused.
He looked up at Lyra weakly.
"…Lyra…"
Her tears fell immediately.
"Oh—Zerrei…"
He blinked slowly, confusion soft in his expression.
"…hurt…"
Lyra touched his cheek softly.
"I know. But you're safe."
Zerrei lifted a trembling hand.
He pressed it to her chest—right over her heart.
"…heartbeat…"
She held his hand there.
"It's yours. I'm right here."
Zerrei leaned into her touch.
Then whispered—
with the last bit of strength he had:
"…don't leave Zerrei…"
Lyra kissed his forehead.
"I won't."
He relaxed in her arms.
And the healing truly began.