The forest was quiet at dawn.
Not peaceful—
because nothing was peaceful after the Creator's shadow tore open the sky—
but quiet enough for Lyra to hear her own heartbeat beneath Zerrei's sleeping weight.
He still clung to her.
Even hours later.
Even in sleep.
His carved fingers remained lightly hooked into the fabric over her ribs, his carved cheek resting against her shoulder, breath-like mana pulsing faintly.
Warm.
Soft.
…Too fragile.
Lyra brushed her thumb over the crack running along his collarbone. Gold light pulsed weakly inside the fracture.
Zerrei twitched in response, muttering in his sleep:
"…Lyra… stay…"
Her heart ached.
"I'm here," she whispered, voice barely a breath.
"And I'm going to stay. But…"
Her jaw tightened.
"…I need to be someone who can protect you, too."
THE GUILD DISCUSSES WHAT COMES NEXT
Arden poked the dying fire with a stick.
He'd barely slept either.
"So," he said, eyes flicking to Lyra, "I'm guessing you're not letting him out of your arms anytime soon."
Lyra didn't look away from Zerrei's face.
"No."
"Right," Arden said, scratching his cheek. "Fair."
Oren yawned from his spot beside a pile of books he'd made into a pillow.
"I will never understand," Oren mumbled, "how you two function on sheer emotional chaos alone."
Lyra finally looked up at him.
"Oren."
"Yes?"
She took a deep breath.
"I need you to teach me."
Oren stared at her. Arden almost dropped the stick.
"…Teach you… what?" Oren asked cautiously.
Lyra looked at Zerrei, then at the horizon, then back at Oren with eyes that no longer trembled.
"Magic. Resonance. Runes. Everything you know."
Arden blinked.
"Uh… Lyra? You're already a mage. A decent one."
"Not enough," she said firmly.
Her voice shook—
not with fear,
but with determination.
"I can't keep relying on Zerrei to protect me. It hurts him every time he pushes himself.
If I want to stay beside him… I need strength of my own."
Oren's eyes softened—rare for him.
"You want to protect him," he said quietly.
Lyra held Zerrei a little closer.
"Yes."
Arden muttered:
"…That might be the first smart thing you've said this week."
Lyra shot him a glare.
Arden quickly corrected:
"I mean—brave! Inspiring! Very heroic!"
Oren ignored Arden entirely and shifted to a serious tone.
"Lyra. Listen carefully."
She straightened.
"Mhm."
"What you're asking is not simple. Resonance magic isn't normal. It's dangerous. It reacts to emotion. It can explode if misused."
Lyra didn't flinch.
"I know."
Oren raised a brow.
"You could get hurt."
"Then I'll work harder."
"You could lose control."
"Then teach me control."
"You could die."
Lyra's eyes burned with fierce resolve.
"Then I'll live."
Oren stared at her for a long moment.
Then he sighed.
"Fine."
Arden nearly choked.
"What—seriously?!"
Oren nodded.
"Seriously."
He gestured at Lyra.
"She's already half-synchronized with a vessel's core. Her talent with emotional resonance is naturally high. She's stubborn. And reckless. And attached. Perfect ingredients."
Arden frowned.
"…Perfect ingredients for WHAT—death?!"
"For breakthroughs," Oren corrected calmly.
Arden groaned.
"Fantastic. Prepare her grave."
Oren ignored him completely.
"Lyra," he said, "if you want to do this, you need to understand something."
"Yes?"
Oren pointed at Zerrei.
"His core—and your heart—are connected. If your emotions destabilize, he feels it. If you strain too much, he feels it. If you break…"
He hesitated.
"…he breaks."
Lyra looked down at Zerrei.
At the faint glow of his carved cheek.
At the faint tremble of his fingers.
At the way he curled into her warmth even in sleep.
She stroked his hair.
"Then I'll hold myself together," she whispered.
"For him."
Zerrei murmured softly in his sleep:
"…Lyra…"
Arden glanced at Oren.
"Do you ever think this is too much responsibility to put on one girl?"
Oren shrugged.
"It's either that, or we let the Creator rip him apart. I prefer the first option."
Arden grimaced.
"…Yeah. Fair."
LYRA MAKES HER VOW
The sun began to rise—warm light filtering through branches.
Lyra lifted her chin, eyes reflecting gold dawnlight.
"I won't let the Creator take him," she said softly.
Zerrei tightened his grip on her sleeve as if reacting to her words.
"…stay… Lyra… mine…" he breathed.
She kissed his forehead.
"Yes," she whispered.
"And you're mine."
Arden covered his face.
"Oh gods, they're going to kill me with sweetness."
Oren:
"Focus, Arden."
Arden:
"I can't. I'm dying. I'm actually dying."
Lyra ignored them both.
She pressed her cheek to Zerrei's hair.
"I will grow," she whispered.
"I will learn.
I will fight."
Her arms tightened around his fragile frame.
"And I will become someone you can depend on."
Zerrei murmured:
"…Lyra… strong…"
She smiled gently.
"Not yet," she whispered.
"But I will be."
Oren approached, holding a book glowing faintly with runes.
"Then let's begin."
Lyra nodded.
"Teach me everything."
Oren opened the book, its pages shimmering with ancient glyphs.
"Very well," he said.
"Welcome to Advanced Resonance Theory."
Arden groaned loudly.
"Aaaaaand we're doomed."
Lyra glared again.
He corrected himself:
"I mean—great! Amazing! Let's get strong before the Creator smites all of us!"
Lyra returned her focus to Zerrei, brushing a thumb across his cheek.
Her voice softened.
"…Wait for me to catch up, Zerrei."
His glow pulsed gently.
"…Lyra…"
She smiled.
"I won't let you fight alone."