Elowen didn't put me down until we were inside her section of the Sanctum.
Not the public halls. Not the training corridors full of curious eyes.
Her wing.
Quiet. Guarded. The kind of place where footsteps were counted and every candle flame felt watched.
Two knights stood at the door—veterans, judging by the scars on their hands and the way their attention snapped to Elowen before she even reached them.
"Elowen," one of them greeted, then his gaze dropped to me.
His brain visibly stalled.
Elowen didn't slow. "No comments."
"Yes, Lady Heroine," he said immediately, then added—too late—"She's… small."
"I heard that," I muttered.
Elowen's grip tightened just slightly, like a warning to behave.
It was unfair how effective that was.
We passed into a sitting room with a fireplace, a simple table, and a narrow window barred with silver wards. The air smelled like cedar again—same as the recovery room. A comfort scent the Sanctum used on purpose.
Elowen shut the door and exhaled.
Only then did she finally set me down.
I landed on my feet—barely—wobbling, then catching myself on the arm of a chair with as much dignity as a tiny spirit-kid could possibly fake.
"I'm walking now," I announced.
Elowen's eyebrows lifted. "Are you?"
"I am," I insisted, then my knee did a tiny betrayal-shiver.
Elowen didn't tease. She just moved closer, ready to catch me without making it a big deal.
That… somehow made it worse.
I cleared my throat. "So. Plan."
Elowen sat in the chair opposite me, leaning forward, forearms on her knees. Heroine posture: calm on the surface, storm underneath.
"Plan," she agreed. "We don't sleep."
My eyes widened. "What? That's a terrible plan."
Elowen's gaze sharpened. "Rin."
I sighed, then softened my voice. "Okay. We do sleep. But we do it smart."
She nodded once, grateful for the correction.
"Maera said dawn," Elowen murmured. "But until then—"
A knock came at the door.
Both of us went still.
Elowen's hand dropped to her belt.
I felt my runes flare faintly, a defensive reflex.
The knock came again—three taps, then a pause, then two.
A coded rhythm.
Elowen eased, just slightly. "Come."
The door opened to reveal a young knight with messy hair and a messenger sash. He didn't step in—he hovered in the doorway like he was terrified of being struck by prophecy.
"Lady Elowen," he said quickly, "the Sanctum head requests—"
His eyes slid to me and stuck.
"…an explanation."
I raised a finger. "Tell them I'm a very normal, very mature legendary sword and there is nothing to see here."
The messenger swallowed. "It— it talks."
Elowen's voice was calm but final. "Tell the Sanctum head: I will report to the council at first bell. And until then, no one approaches my wing without my permission."
The messenger nodded so fast it was nearly a bow. "Yes, Lady Heroine."
He vanished.
The door shut.
Silence returned.
Elowen stared at it for a moment, then at me. "They're going to try to take you."
I didn't pretend otherwise. "Yeah."
Elowen's jaw tightened. "They can't."
I felt it through the bond—her certainty wasn't arrogance.
It was choice.
She'd decided: you're mine to protect.
The same way I'd decided: you're mine to shield.
A team.
I took a slow breath. "Then we need leverage."
Elowen blinked. "Leverage?"
I gestured vaguely. "If they see me as a relic, they'll store me. If they see me as a person… they'll hesitate. We force them to hesitate."
Elowen's eyes narrowed, thinking. "How?"
I looked down at my tiny hands and grimaced.
"I need to be able to switch forms cleanly," I said. "In front of them. Show control, show stability, show… I'm not a loose curse."
Elowen nodded. "And we need rules. Limits."
"Exactly." I glanced up. "Also… you're going to have to stop carrying me in public like I'm—"
The bond flickered with amusement.
Elowen's mouth curved. "Like you're what?"
I glared. "Don't."
Elowen stood, then walked toward the window, scanning outside through the ward bars.
"I'm not stopping," she said simply. "If they strike again, you're safest close."
I opened my mouth to argue—
—and my stomach did that weird hollow thing again.
Not pain.
More like… a distant echo.
A pull.
Like some part of me was listening to something far away.
I froze.
Elowen turned instantly. "Rin?"
I pressed a hand to my chest. "I felt something."
"What kind of something?"
I swallowed. "Like… a hook. Like someone tugged on the name Lumenward."
Elowen went cold. "They're tracking you."
"Or the sword," I whispered. "Or the seal Maera mentioned."
Elowen crossed the room in two steps and crouched in front of me again.
"Tell me," she said gently, "do you remember anything when you feel that?"
I closed my eyes.
I tried to follow the pull backward, like tracing a thread.
At first, nothing.
Then—
A flash of water again.
Not normal water.
Black water, thick like ink, moving as if it had hunger.
Chains, bright with runes, wrapped around something beneath the surface.
And a sound—deep, distant, not a voice, more like a pressure shaped into meaning:
LET ME OUT.
My eyes snapped open.
I inhaled hard.
Elowen's hands were already on my shoulders, grounding me.
"What did you see?" she asked.
I forced my breathing steady. "A sealed thing. Under black water. It wants out."
Elowen's face didn't soften, but her grip did—careful, reassuring.
"Then Maera was right," she said quietly. "You're a lock."
My throat tightened. "And someone is trying to pick me."
A third knock hit the door.
Not coded.
Not polite.
Three hard strikes like a command.
Elowen stood instantly, body between me and the entrance.
"I didn't give permission," she said, voice sharp.
A familiar voice answered from the hall.
"Neither did I," Captain Maera said. "But the council doesn't care."
Elowen opened the door just enough to see Maera—and two robed council attendants behind her.
One attendant held a scroll marked with the Sanctum's crest.
The other held a silver chain case.
My stomach dropped.
That case looked like a relic transport.
Maera's eyes met Elowen's. "They're moving early."
Elowen's voice went flat. "They're not taking her."
The attendant with the scroll cleared his throat. "By authority of the Sanctum—"
I stepped forward before Elowen could fully block me.
I didn't want her to fight them.
Not yet.
Not inside her own home.
I forced my voice to carry.
"I'm right here," I said. "And I'm listening."
Both attendants stared like they'd just heard a statue speak.
The scroll attendant recovered first. "Legendary sword spirit… Lumenward. You are hereby required to be placed in secure custody pending evaluation."
"Secure custody," I repeated, sweetly. "You mean a box."
The attendant stiffened. "A containment chamber."
"A box," I confirmed.
Elowen's hand hovered near her weapon.
Maera's posture tightened, ready to intervene if this became violent.
I lifted my chin as much as a tiny kid could lift anything with authority.
"No," I said.
The attendants blinked.
The scroll attendant tried again. "This is not optional."
I glanced at Elowen, then pushed a message through the bond.
Hold steady. Don't move. Trust me.
Elowen's eyes flicked to mine. A tiny nod.
I faced the attendants again.
"If you want proof I'm stable," I said, "I'll give it. But I'm not going anywhere without the Heroine."
The scroll attendant's mouth tightened. "You are a relic of the Sanctum."
I smiled—small, sharp.
"I'm a person," I corrected. "And I choose my bearer."
Then I reached inward, to the place where my sword shape waited.
Not like a panic switch.
Like a practiced motion.
Like drawing breath.
Light wrapped around me.
My child body dissolved into runes—
—and Elowen's hand caught my hilt as naturally as if we'd done it a thousand times.
My runes flared gold.
I spoke from blade-form, voice steadier, deeper.
This is Lumenward. I recognize Elowen as my partner. Any attempt to separate us will be treated as a hostile act.
The attendants took a step back.
Maera's eyes narrowed with approval. "Good."
The scroll attendant swallowed. "You… cannot threaten the Sanctum."
I can defend, I corrected. And I will.
The attendant with the silver chain case snapped it open slightly, revealing a coil of engraved links—wards woven into metal.
Maera's blade flashed into her hand. "Do not."
The chain attendant hesitated.
Then, from somewhere beyond the hall—faint, almost imperceptible—
came that same wrong scrape in the air.
A ripple.
The ward line shifted.
My runes flared like a warning bell.
Assassin, I warned.
Elowen's stance changed instantly. Feet set. Breath measured. Body between the attendants and the room.
Maera's gaze snapped upward. "Again."
The council attendants froze, suddenly realizing they were standing in the kill zone.
A black bolt fired through the corridor.
Straight toward the robed men.
Not Elowen.
Not me.
A clean shot designed to cause chaos—then blame the Heroine and her "dangerous relic."
Elowen moved—
but I moved first.
PLATE.
A barrier snapped in front of the attendants and caught the bolt dead.
The shadow hissed, trying to spread.
My runes burned hotter.
I didn't overcast.
I didn't bulwark.
I held a tight, controlled defense—exactly as Maera had warned.
The bolt died.
The attendants stared at the barrier, then at Elowen, then at the ceiling like it might shoot them again.
Elowen's voice was cold as steel. "Now do you understand why she stays with me?"
Maera took one step into the hall, scanning. "They're provoking a fracture. They want you to fight the council. Don't."
Elowen's grip tightened on my hilt.
I felt her rage.
But I also felt her restraint.
She inhaled once—deep—and let the breath out slowly.
Then she looked at the attendants.
"You will return to the council," Elowen said, "and you will tell them this: if they insist on custody, they can debate it with the enemy who is actively trying to kill people inside the Sanctum."
The scroll attendant's hands shook slightly as he rolled the decree back up.
"We— we will report," he managed.
The chain attendant closed the case with a click that sounded a lot like shame.
They hurried away.
When they were gone, Maera finally lowered her weapon.
"First controlled defense," she said.
Elowen exhaled. "And they used it as a message."
I pulsed through the bond, tired but steady.
I didn't drain out.
Elowen's thumb brushed my hilt—gentle, proud.
"No," she whispered. "You didn't."
Maera's eyes stayed on the ceiling a moment longer, listening.
"They'll come again," she said. "And next time it won't be a test bolt."
Elowen lifted me slightly, ready.
"Then we train," Elowen said.
Maera nodded toward the far end of the corridor.
"At dawn," she repeated. "And Rin?"
Yeah?
Maera's gaze was sharp, but not unkind.
"Today you defended strangers. Good."
She paused.
"Tomorrow you learn how to defend yourself."
And somewhere deep in my runes—beneath my light, beneath my shields, beneath the child form I hated—
the sealed memory stirred again.
Black water.
Chains.
And a pressure that felt like a smile in the dark.
SO YOU REMEMBER ME.
My runes flashed without my permission.
Elowen felt it instantly.
"Rin?" she whispered.
I forced my glow to steady.
I'm here, I lied. I'm okay.
But the truth sat heavy in my steel:
The enemy wasn't just outside the Sanctum.
It was connected to me.
And it had just noticed I'd begun to wake up, too.