Max raced through the upper corridors toward the northern tower where Violet typically practiced her casting techniques before sunset. His lungs burned from the exertion. This younger body lacked the stamina he once possessed, muscles protesting every flight of stairs.
The books beneath his arm provided perfect cover. If questioned, he needed only claim research interest in citadel defenses, believable enough given his earlier questions during the council meeting.
Something flickered at the edge of his vision. A golden spark that vanished when he turned his head. Max paused mid-stride, scanning the empty hallway. Nothing visible, yet he sensed a presence.
Awake... finally...
The voice whispered directly into his mind, faint as mountain wind through distant pines. Max froze, his hand instinctively reaching for a sword that wasn't there.
Don't fear... part of you...
"Who's there?" Max whispered, turning in a slow circle.
Here... always here...
The voice seemed to originate from within his own chest. A familiar sensation brushed against his consciousness, one he hadn't felt since before his regression. An aura connection.
Max pressed his back against the corridor wall, dropping the books to place both palms flat against the stone. He closed his eyes, focusing inward. In his previous life, he had formed his beast bond after the citadel fell, during the desperate battles that followed. The connection shouldn't exist yet.
He pushed his awareness deeper, following the whisper-thin thread of gold that pulsed within his core.
"Cinder?" Max breathed the name instinctively.
Remember me... good...
The voice grew marginally stronger. A flicker of golden light manifested before him, no larger than a candle flame, hovering at eye level.
Weak now... both weak...
"How is this possible?" Max kept his voice barely audible. "We didn't bond until—"
Always bonded... sleeping... waiting...
The tiny flame pulsed with each word. Max reached toward it, fingers passing through the incorporeal light.
Need strength... your strength...
Max nodded slowly. "The aura sync. But I don't have—"
A sharp pain lanced through his chest, driving him to one knee. The golden spark brightened momentarily before dimming. Max gasped, sweat beading on his forehead as internal fire spread through his veins.
Try... must try...
Max understood. In his previous life, he'd achieved aura synchronization through months of painful practice. Now Cinder needed connection immediately. The knowledge existed in his mind, but his body hadn't developed the pathways.
He straightened, planting his feet shoulder-width apart. Drawing a deep breath, Max focused on his core, imagining golden light spreading outward. The technique required perfect concentration and control.
Pain erupted behind his eyes as he forced energy through unprepared channels. His vision darkened at the edges. Too much, too fast. His knees buckled.
Careful... slower...
Max caught himself against the wall, breathing heavily. The tiny golden spark hovered closer, almost touching his chest.
"How much can we sync?" he whispered.
Little... very little... two percent... three...
Even that small connection would help. In his previous timeline, he'd started with less than one percent synchronization. Three percent would provide minimal enhancement to his reflexes and senses, not enough for combat advantage, but perhaps enough to notice dangers others might miss.
Max steadied his breathing and tried again, this approach more measured. He visualized a single thread of golden light extending from his core toward the floating spark.
Pain flared again, but manageable this time. The connection formed, fragile but present. The golden spark brightened slightly, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Connected... barely...
Max felt Cinder's consciousness brush against his own. Ancient memories and instincts beyond human understanding flickering at the edges of his awareness.
"Will anyone see you?" Max asked, glancing nervously down the corridor.
Not yet... spirit only...
The spark dimmed slightly, seeming to settle against his chest before fading from visibility. The presence remained, however, a warm spot just beneath his sternum.
Here always... watching... learning...
Max gathered the dropped books, straightening his tunic. The connection drained his energy, but the sync provided an undercurrent of strength he hadn't possessed moments before. His senses sharpened marginally, the distant sounds of the citadel becoming clearer, scents more distinct.
"We need to find Violet," he whispered.
The crowned one... yes...
Max paused. "You know about that?"
Know many things... remember many things...
Questions multiplied in Max's mind, but they lacked time for deeper conversation. He continued toward the northern tower, moving with renewed purpose.
Violet stood alone on the tower's practice platform, arms extended toward the setting sun. Silver-blue light coursed around her fingers as she traced complex patterns in the air. The magic responded fluidly, each gesture creating intricate glowing symbols that hovered momentarily before dissolving.
Max watched from the doorway, reluctant to interrupt. He'd forgotten how disciplined her casting technique had been even at this age. While most Moon mages relied on verbal components and physical focus objects, Violet achieved precision through pure mental discipline.
The silver-blue light suddenly intensified, coalescing into a perfect sphere between her palms. Violet rotated her wrists, the sphere expanding and contracting with her breathing. She whispered something Max couldn't hear, and the sphere separated into twelve identical orbs that orbited around her.
Strong... very strong...
Max nodded slightly in agreement with Cinder's assessment. Violet's power had always outpaced her age. Their father estimated her rank on magic is at Moon 8 out of 10 potential, but Max suspected she could reach Moon 10 with proper training.
One by one, Violet sent the orbs flying toward practice targets positioned around the platform. Each struck with perfect accuracy, bursting in flashes of cold light that left frost patterns on the wooden surfaces.
The final orb hovered above her palm as she turned toward the doorway.
"How long have you been standing there?" she asked, not appearing surprised by his presence.
"Long enough to see you've mastered the frost separation technique." Max stepped onto the platform. "Father said that spell was beyond your current capabilities."
Violet smiled slightly, allowing the final orb to dissolve. "Father underestimates what determination can accomplish." She studied him with narrowed eyes. "You look pale. Are you unwell?"
"I've been researching." Max held up the books. "The citadel's defensive systems."
"Because of your dream?" Violet moved closer, her expression concerned. "You've been acting strangely all day, Max."
Tell her... needs warning...
Max hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. The truth would sound insane. Time regression, future knowledge, demon attacks. Yet Violet deserved warning.
"I found something in the archives," he said carefully. "The primary defense seal beneath the citadel is damaged."
Violet's expression sharpened. "That's impossible. Father inspected the foundations last month."
"Someone sabotaged it after his inspection. I saw Archdeacon Martel performing some kind of ritual near the fractures."
"Martel?" Violet's disbelief was evident. "He's been Father's spiritual advisor for years."
"Which provides perfect cover for betrayal." Max set the books aside and lowered his voice. "Sister, I know this sounds impossible, but I believe the Church of Ascension is working with demonic forces. The seal weakening coincides with Atlas's agitation. Something approaches the citadel."
Violet studied him intently, her gaze searching his face for deception. Max met her eyes steadily.
"You've never shown interest in the defensive systems before," she said finally. "Or politics. Or military matters. Yet today you spoke in council like a seasoned commander, trained for hours in the yard, and now bring accusations against Father's closest advisor."
She sees... questioning...
"I can't explain how I know these things," Max admitted. "But I know the citadel is in danger."
Violet turned toward the setting sun, her profile gilded in fading light. "Father won't believe accusations against Martel without evidence."
"Then help me gather evidence. The seal—"
"I'll examine it," Violet interrupted. "If what you say is true, we need Father and Atlas both."
Relief flooded through Max. He hadn't convinced her of everything, but she would look. That was enough for now.
A distant roar echoed across the citadel, Atlas sensing trouble. Max tensed, mentally calculating how the timeline had shifted. The attack would come sooner than in his previous life, but with Violet's help, they might strengthen the seal enough to resist the initial assault.
Coming... they come...
"We need to move quickly," Max said, turning toward the stairs.
Violet caught his arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "There's something different about your aura," she said quietly. "Something golden."
Max froze. 'Could she see Cinder's presence already?'
In his previous life, it had taken years before others could perceive his bond beast.
She strong... sees much...
"What happened to you, Max?" Violet asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're my brother, but something's changed."
"Everything has changed," Max replied honestly. "And everything will change again if we fail tonight."
Another roar from Atlas, louder this time. Violet released his arm, decision made.
"Show me the seal," she said, gathering her casting materials. "Then we find Father."
As they descended the tower stairs, Max felt Cinder's presence pulse with anticipation. The tiny golden spark remained invisible to others, but Max knew this represented only the beginning. Cinder would grow stronger as their synchronization deepened.
No one sees yet... but they will...
Max smiled grimly. Yes, they would. And when that day came, those who threatened his family would learn why sovereign dragons featured so prominently in the ancient tales of destruction.