Morning arrived with the kind of tired light that followed a night spent holding fear at bay. Edrin Hollow moved more slowly than before, as if the settlement needed permission to return to routine. People spoke in lower voices. Children stayed closer to doorways. Even the smoke from chimneys seemed thinner, hesitant.
The ward ring held, but it held like a strained rope: intact, yet ready to snap if pulled too hard again.
Marrow gathered the teams after a quick meal and issued assignments without ceremony. Most students remained in the settlement to support continued reinforcement and to assist villagers with minor repairs. A smaller group, chosen for steadiness rather than ambition, would accompany staff to inspect the upper ridge where the pull appeared strongest.
Kael's team was included.
Lyra tried to hide her excitement and failed. Darian looked resigned in the way of someone who disliked unknown terrain but accepted it anyway. Seraphine simply adjusted her cloak and checked her supplies as if this were a matter of careful logistics rather than heightened risk.
Kael checked his pack twice, then forced himself to stop. Over-preparation did not prevent what he couldn't predict.
They set out along a narrow path behind the western edge of the settlement, climbing through scattered trees and exposed stone. The air changed quickly with elevation, becoming thinner and colder, and the mana current Kael had sensed below became more obvious, running like a faint tide through the ground.
The supervising staff today included Marrow and the scarred senior instructor who had arrived the previous afternoon, who introduced himself only as Kaldor when someone asked. He carried no visible weapon, but his presence implied he didn't need one.
"Watch footing," Kaldor said without looking back. "Watch the air. If you feel pressure, you stop and signal."
Lyra glanced at the ward markers lining parts of the path. "These are older," she murmured. "Some of these designs aren't used anymore."
Seraphine's gaze moved over the stones, thoughtful. "Old wards last longer when they're maintained," she said. "They fail quietly when they're forgotten."
Kael listened, but his attention remained on the flow beneath them. The higher they climbed, the stronger the pull became, no longer faint threads but a clear direction, a steady drawing that made the hairs on his arms lift when the wind shifted.
At a bend in the path, they found the first obvious sign of strain: a ward marker split in half, its rune lines blackened as though something had burned through them from the inside. The stone wasn't shattered outward. It looked hollowed.
Kaldor crouched beside it, studying the fracture. "Not a claw strike," he said. "Not weather."
Marrow stood over him, gaze narrowing. "It failed under internal pressure."
Lyra's fingers twitched as if she wanted to touch the rune line, but she kept her hands close. "It's… consumed," she said, voice quieter. "The mana channels aren't just cracked. They're missing."
Kael didn't speak. He let Law Observation rise briefly and saw the remainder of the lattice, frayed and incomplete, as if an unseen hand had reached inside and pulled threads out.
When he released the skill, the image remained in his mind: not damage, but removal.
They continued upward.
The trees thinned, replaced by scrub and exposed stone. A shallow wind cut across the ridge, bringing with it a faint metallic scent. Kael realized he could hear something as well—not a sound like footsteps, but a faint, inconsistent hum, like an enchantment struggling to maintain a stable note.
They reached a small plateau above the settlement where the ground flattened briefly before rising again. The view from there showed Edrin Hollow below, lamps still visible even in daylight, the village ringed by ward stones like a necklace of faint light.
Near the edge of the plateau stood a larger structure, half buried in stone. It looked like a pillar, taller than the ward markers below, its surface covered in rune lines so old their shapes were unfamiliar. Moss clung to parts of it, but where the moss had peeled away, the carvings were deep and deliberate.
Lyra stopped so abruptly Darian nearly bumped into her. "That isn't local work," she whispered.
Marrow's gaze sharpened. "No."
Kaldor moved forward cautiously, scanning the area before approaching. "No movement," he said. "No beasts."
Kael felt something else instead. The pull was strongest here, feeding into that pillar like water into a drain.
He activated Law Observation, keeping it tight and controlled.
The pillar's lattice appeared vast compared to the ward stones below. Multiple layers of structure interlocked, a complexity beyond anything taught in academy classrooms. And yet, parts of it were missing, torn away in uneven patches. Threads of mana should have circulated through it smoothly. Instead, the flow stuttered and bent inward, feeding something beneath the stone.
Kael released the skill, forcing his breathing steady as the ache began to form.
Lyra stepped closer, eyes wide. "This is ancient," she said, voice shaking slightly with awe. "It's not just a ward. It's… a junction."
Marrow's expression remained controlled, but Kael saw the tension in his jaw. "A junction," he repeated, as if confirming the word's weight.
Kaldor circled the pillar, then pointed to a section near its base where the stone ground around it had cracked. "Something beneath," he said. "A hollow."
Marrow nodded once. "We do not descend without preparation," he said, then looked toward Kael's team and the other students. "You will not proceed unless directed. You will assist where instructed and remain within sight."
Lyra looked like she wanted to argue that she could be helpful. Seraphine placed a hand lightly on Lyra's sleeve, not restraining, simply grounding. Darian kept his eyes on the cracked ground, expression serious.
Kael stood slightly apart, gaze fixed on the rune pillar. He couldn't stop thinking about the lattice he had seen, about how carefully it had been built and how deliberately it was being dismantled.
This wasn't a natural phenomenon.
Even if the source was mindless, it was acting with purpose.
Marrow gave quiet instructions to the staff, and Kaldor began setting markers and pulling out tools for a controlled inspection. Students were ordered to hold position and assist only with perimeter observation.
They waited on the plateau while the instructors examined the cracks. The wind moved steadily, carrying the faint hum of struggling enchantment. Kael watched the ridge line beyond, wondering how far this structure extended, and how long it had been here before anyone remembered to look.
When they finally began the return descent to the settlement, the mood was different. No one spoke much. Even Lyra's excitement had tempered into careful focus, the kind that came from realizing a discovery carried consequences.
The path downward felt longer than the climb, not because of distance but because each step brought them closer to people who lived beneath the failing wards, people who would pay the price if the source below the pillar broke free.
Kael adjusted his pack and walked beside the others, listening to the wind and the faint hum that followed them even as the plateau disappeared behind the ridge.
They returned to Edrin Hollow by late afternoon. Villagers watched them approach with anxious eyes, searching their faces for reassurance.
Marrow didn't give speeches. He simply began issuing orders for reinforcement and preparation, the kind of calm action that reassured without promising more than he could deliver.
Kael stood with his team near the command point, watching the instructors work. The pillar on the plateau remained out of sight now, but Kael felt its pull in the back of his mind like a persistent pressure.
Lyra spoke quietly beside him. "If that junction fails, the ward ring won't matter."
Darian's voice was low. "Then we make sure it doesn't fail."
Seraphine glanced toward the west as the light faded. "Or we make sure the people are ready if it does."
Kael didn't answer. He only watched the settlement lamps flicker to life again, one by one, and wondered how many nights they could keep doing this before the pattern demanded something more.
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