Kael did not sleep well.
It was not fear that kept him awake, nor discomfort from the unfamiliar environment. Instead, it was the memory of the field—the moment where it had aligned under his influence and resolved as though it had been waiting for correction.
He sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the floor.
"That shouldn't have worked," he said quietly.
"No," Lyra replied.
He glanced at her. "You don't sleep, do you?"
"Not in the same way."
"That explains a lot."
Kael stood and stepped outside, the early light of the city just beginning to spread across the streets. The environment felt calmer than the previous day, but the memory of the clearing remained too present for him to ignore.
He needed to understand it.
He focused inward.
Not on his surroundings.
Not on any immediate threat.
On the pattern.
The moment came more quickly this time.
That same alignment he had felt before—subtle, precise, and difficult to hold.
He reached for it carefully.
The air around him shifted.
Not dramatically, and not visibly, but enough that the space felt more structured, as though something unseen had tightened into place.
Lyra's attention sharpened immediately.
"You are doing it again," she said.
Kael frowned slightly. "I'm not trying to force anything."
"That is not the concern."
He held the alignment for a moment longer, studying the sensation rather than acting on it.
It did not feel like control.
It felt like adjustment.
Then he released it.
The space returned to normal.
Kael stared at his hand, his expression thoughtful.
"…It's not reacting anymore," he said. "It's responding."
Lyra watched him carefully.
"Yes."
Kael looked back at her, the realization settling in more clearly.
"If that's true," he said, "then this isn't just my ability changing."
Lyra did not answer immediately.
When she did, her voice carried more weight than before.
"No," she said.
Kael exhaled slowly.
Whatever he had done in the clearing—
Had not stayed there.