Kaelin woke with his cheek against the cool coral floor. His field did not carry crimson fres of Oni heat, just the faint sound of steam that rolled off his body, that had quieted the silence. His horn pulsed dimly. But he was whole.

  Kaelin pushed himself up, resting onto his knees. I must have turned again. The coral walls were faintly scorched in spots, and the floor was wet and dry from steam clinging to the low air. His gaze tracked the damage—the cracked grooves in the stone shimmered with traces of corrupt Essentia. I hope Esthel is okay.

  Esthel was sitting nearby, cross-legged, quiet. Her braid was still intact, and the frepetal flowers dim, their light catching the curve of her cheek. I have done worse. But still shouldn't praise for hurting my friend less this time. She passed him a cup of tea without a word.

  Kaelin took the cup slowly, staring into the surface instead of meeting her eyes. His hands curled faintly around it, and he didn't want to lift his gaze.

  "How bad is it this time?" he asked. He already feared the answer.

  Kaelin’s brow lifted slightly. She was bruised, her robe torn at the shoulder, a shallow cut visible above her lip where it had split. The fabric along one arm was singed at the edge, but nothing looked life-threatening — just battered.

  She exhaled slowly, brushed her braid behind her ear, and met his gaze with tired amusement. "Well," she said, voice dry, "you owe me a month of cleaning duties. And I want your first helping of the ambrosia."

  Kaelin blinked. That st part—ambrosia? His stomach twisted. That fruit only ripens twice a year. Sharing the first cut was practically sacred, offered only to mentors or honored guests. Asking for it wasn’t against the rules, but… it was close.

  He didn’t want to agree—not with something that rare—but he understood. Kaelin gave a slight nod, eyes still downcast. "Alright," he murmured. "You can have it."

  Esthel’s smile thinned, and for the first time since the rupture, her voice lost its humor. "What happened to you, Kaelin? Everything was fine. We were in sync with the heartpond. I had begun to feel your field slip. Then you must've fallen on your back, and the orb—" she paused, touching her swollen lip," it had exploded, hitting me in my face, that snapped me out of my spiral."

  Kaelin shook his head slowly. "I wish I knew, all I remember is the sound of the ocean and leaves," he admitted. "I wasn’t mad. I didn’t sense any vyreling when I was spiraling. And I wasn’t thinking about Dyuun."

  Esthel exhaled, rubbing her thumb lightly along a torn edge of her sleeve. "With the festival starting, More soulmirrors are beginning to emerge from the pond. Dyuun is on guard duty in the ocean with Master Llyrian today," she said, her voice dropping lower, sharp. "I wish he would find his way to a different temple, one far removed from here. His behavior is infuriating, and I can't stand how he carries himself with such arrogance."

  Kaelin let out a breath, then shifted topics with a gnce toward torn pages on the ground. "I should've read that book Master Vasalith was talking about before spiraling in the alcove. She said something vague about it..., but she always talks like that."

  "You should have been more cautious about Vasalith's words. Being a drakyn, you can't ignore teachings like it's a challenge. And dont worry, we will get back your book from Dyuun." Then Esthel reached out and grabbed a nearby book, flipping it open and examining the warped pages. "So what is this, then?" she asked, eyeing the damage.

  The cover was still barely legible and covered with Essentia burns. It now looked like it was salvage from a sunken library.

  Kaelin reached out, expression tightening as he noticed the cover. "Wait—let me see it. maybe I..." He barely brushed the bottom of the spine. The book fell apart in Esthel’s hands, the pages scattered.

  Kaelin winced, rubbing at his sore chest. "That’s... probably going to cost me more than the ambrosia."

  Esthel closed the binding, squinting at the ruined cover. "Was this written in Duskfire ink?" she asked, her voice cautious.

  Kaelin gulped. "It was......All of it," he said, staring at the book. "I brought it to show you — I found the story you were talking about earlier."

  Esthel gnced down in shock at the crumpled cover again, brows narrowing slightly. "You mean this book was about the witch being a part of the sixfold heroes?"

  "Yeah, that’s the one, but they didn't call themselves the sixfold," Kaelin said, rising slowly and offering a hand. Esthel took his hand, rising with a grunt. "So what were they called?" she asked, brushing off her robes.

  Kaelin stretched his arms and shoulders with a quiet grunt, trying to piece the memory together. "I think it was Haelion, but I am not sure," he admitted.

  Esthel raised an eyebrow. "If you don’t remember the name, what do you remember?

  Kaelin scratched at his temple. "I originally thought this was a knockoff book you told me about." He waved a few charred pages in his hand. Kaelin continues." I was half expecting a book filled with legends with every heroes' summoning but with a twist. But it ended up being more like... a manuscript only about the original party. There was a lot of familiar stuff. Like the sword that discovered Driftroots, and spiraling. Even offerings."

  Esthel leaned in slightly, her expression piqued. "What else did it say?"

  Together, they gather the scattered, broken remnants within the alcove. As they worked, Kaelin recalls. "It was odd something like this was just sitting there. When I opened the book, I was hit with the smell of fresh duskfire ink," he expined as he picked up scattered pages. "There was a part where the gods had accepted help from an infernal. And another part said it was the witch who undeniably pyed a crucial role in crafting the soulmirrors."

  Kaelin let out a slow breath. "Bards have a way of quilling a tale or singing a song. To think there was someone so lost they bonded their driftroot to those words and rich enough to spend that much to rewrite the origins of the heroes and the Heartpond..."

  Esthel crouched down, fingertips brushing one of the recovered pages. "Or maybe they weren’t lost," she said quietly. "So, they wanted someone to find it?"

  Kaelin with a curious tone. "But who here could afford to write that much in Duskfire ink?"

  "Esthel gnced at the warp book again and said, "Outside of me and my cousin... Only a handful of people here could afford to scribe with duskfire even for a few pages."

  As Esthel spoke, Kaelin caught a glimpse of his satchel lying crumpled in the corner, half-buried beneath coral dust. His brow furrowed. As he crossed the alcove, his foot nudged a stray book, sending it softly across the floor toward his bag. he walked over, picking up the book. "Oh, right. I almost forgot I had this."

  "This is Sarn’s," he muttered. "I need to get this back to him. He wasn’t in the archives earlier." Esthel tilted her head. "Will you not see him at the ritual? Or is that only for Fme Thread and higher?"

  Kaelin shook his head. "No, I don't think so. He’s still in Pulse."

  He picked up the satchel slowly. The bag was torn in several pces, deep sshes cutting across the leather. He quickly rummaged through the contents, his breath tight in his throat, until his fingers curled around something cool and metallic. The compass. It was still intact.

  Kaelin exhaled with visible relief.

  All the scattered, broken pieces were finally gathered and pced into organized piles, their tattered edges drying in quiet stacks beside them.

  Esthel gnced at the piles, then at Kaelin. “What are we gonna do about the book?”

  Kaelin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “For now... just put it in your satchel. My bag got torn up pretty bad during our quell.”

  Esthel nodded. With care, she collected all the pages from the pile and nestled them inside what was left of the book’s cover. She slipped the bundle gently into her satchel.

  Esthel stepped closer and gently patted his shoulder. "Tell me, how are you feeling?" she asked.

  Kaelin winced slightly. "Just my chest hurts," he muttered, rubbing at it again. "And... which charm did you use on me? Feels like my head's still ringing."

  Esthel gave a sheepish look. "I tried, but you wouldn’t calm down or sleep, and didn’t give me many options. Not without calling for help." She hesitated. "So, I... kinda cracked your horn. It kept pulsing with pressure. Sorry."

  Kaelin reached up, fingers brushing the cracked edges of his horn, and sighed with weariness. "But you're okay?" The st thing I want is to hurt others. I am gd she agreed to always use that technique to knock me unconscious. When it's a st resort.

  Esthel nodded, but her ears twitched — a subtle flick, like she sensed a moment in the air that hadn’t yet arrived.

  Then came the soft tap of wood on coral, only broken by the faint rattle of seashells. They knew all too well who was approaching, from previous incidents, such as today

  The heavy seaweed curtain at the entrance swayed. Master Vasalith glided into view, Fa'uan in her grasp. The staff, crowned with the runic, skeletal remains of a coiled sea serpent. From its base, a collection of carefully strung seashells and bone chips emitted a dry, insistent ctter. Her advance was unhurried, each footfall punctuated by the staff's authoritative tap against the coral floor, a sound that resonated deep within the temple.

  Kaelin swallowed, already straightening his posture at the sound. Master Vasalith was unmistakable. Her merfolk features were carved like reefstone: high cheeks with a faint opalescent sheen, eyes a deep teal with rings of silver. Her hair was pulled into braided coils, and barnacle-studded jewelry framed one ear.

  Master Vasalith's eyes swept across the alcove, taking in the full extent of the rupture. Gouges marred the living coral walls where Kaelin's uncontrolled Essentia had struck, leaving faint traces of dispced energy. Splintered fragments of whale-bone chairs and tables y scattered across the floor. Her expression remained the same, yet the water around her seemed to be charged with quiet intent.

  Raising a hand, not in command but in communion, Vasalith let her own Essentia unfurl into the space with a cool, silver-green mist that neutralized the lingering scorched-salt tang of Kaelin's outburst.

  Where the mist touched the coral walls, the raw edges of the holes softened. New growth began with the mist spiraling into pearlescent on softened areas, then expanding, knitting the gaps, healing it.

  The broken pieces of furniture y scattered on the floor. Vasalith guided the fragments, some lifted and others slid back towards their original forms, the breaks sealing with faint lines of solidified Essentia, reforming the chairs and tables. Even the torn seaweed mats responded; frayed strands seemed to reach for each other, weaving back together thread by thread, drawing ambient moisture and residual Essentia to mend their structure.

  Within moments, the alcove was whole once more, and Vasalith's calming essentia smoothed over the violent echoes Kaelin had left behind.

  Her voice, when it came, was calm but edged with quiet authority. "I see the spiral brought you deeper than expected, Kaelin."

  Kaelin stood a little taller, shoulders squared despite the dull ache across his chest and horn. "Yes, Master Vasalith," he said firmly. "It was my first time using a Driftstone. And I did not find the book you told me to find."

  Esthel stepped forward before Vasalith could respond. "I had let Kaelin use mine," she said quickly. "We practiced the Cradle Stance before he demonstrated his spiraling ability. And as his warden, I thought he was capable of forming a stronger connection to nature." Her voice steadied. "He's already in the third stage of the Fme Thread. He’s about to surpass the Shadowroot."

  Master Vasalith raised a hand gently, stopping her with just a gesture. "That’s not why I came," she said, her voice yered with concern. "A Vyreling has been sighted in the area. We have wards, barriers, Master Llyrian, and Solen watching over us. It’s a cursed Vyreling.

  She had stepped closer to Kaelin. "I am certain it's after you, Kaelin. It’s clearly drawn to your driftroot."And I was concerned that what occurred here was connected."Then, turning toward Esthel, her tone softened but held steady. But regardless, thank you for calming Kaelin down. As his warden, continue to watch Kaelin until the vyreling has been dealt with."

  She turned slightly toward Kaelin again. "Is your driftroot still full? And the injuries — I’m assuming all healed by now?"

  Kaelin reached up, fingers brushing his horn. It was smooth. The fracture was gone. He nodded slowly. "Yes, Master Vasalith. You can expect to see me soon — I’ll be ready to perform the Heartsong with everyone."

  Master Vasalith gave a quiet nod to Esthel in silent acknowledgment. Then she turned, robes whispering across the coral as she stepped through the seaweed curtain. The sound of bare feet, the gentle cck of seashells, and the steady tap of driftwood echoed faintly behind her.

  Kaelin let out a long breath. He'd been trying not to breathe wrong while she was there. "I'm just gd she didn’t see the book," he muttered, barely above a whisper.

  Esthel's hand brushed over her satchel and sighed. "It’s only a matter of time before someone notices that the book is missing and reports it. Why not just take the hit and ask for the book to be restored?"

  Kaelin groaned, rubbing at his forehead. "I already gave up my ambrosia take. Gotta wait a whole day just to get another piece... I don’t need any more disappointments for today. And I doubt she’d ever risk her Driftroot on defilement, written in Duskfire ink.

  A shadow passed along the coral floor, flickering across the etched spiral lines.

  Kaelin stiffened, his gaze snapping to the ripple of movement. "Was that—?"

  Esthel didn’t look up right away. "Probably one of the mantas," she said with a shrug, then tilted her head toward the veil overhead. "We might even catch a glimpse of Solren or Master Llyrian patrolling. Or, if we're incredibly lucky... maybe we’ll witness Dyuun being eaten by a Vyreling."

  They both stepped closer to the alcove window, the coral ledge curved with smooth indentations for resting arms. The algae outlook—an ancient veil grown for vision—stretched above them, magnifying the sky through its bioluminescent weave. The twin moons bathed the floating ruins that lie above them in silver and crimson light

  Kaelin leaned forward, scanning the vast stretch of open water. "From here, the ruins almost look close enough to touch," he whispered.

  Esthel nodded, her fingers brushing the edge of the viewing veil. "Yeah. Like, if you leapt just right, you could reach them.

  They both took a quiet moment, eyes sweeping beyond the floating ruins toward the greater expanse.

  Below them, the Heartpond shimmered with yered pulses, cradled by coral arches. Ghostlight from the pond's edge refracted upward through the veil, casting glimmers across their cheeks.

  From the pond’s center, a small cluster of soulmirrors rose — ghostly koi swirling together in a tight formation. They darted outward all at once, in a spectral school scattering in unison, weaving through where new overgrown coral tree roots were, for us to call home.

  Rising from the sea, the floating isles of Dra'kon drifted gently through the air. The continent was like gigantic stone icebergs hovering, some tangled with roots and flora. Waterfalls arced between them, cascading downward into the ocean.

  Esthel leaned forward, pointing slightly. "That one there — the isle with the seven broken pilrs. There is a teleportation circle leading to the first heartpond. You can only pass through it during Twin Moon convergence."

  Kaelin followed her gaze, breath catching slightly. "And we just missed that two weeks ago. Figures."

  Then, the drift shifted. Something cold slid along his sight, like subtle Essentia recoiling from a lie.

  A cramp forcing its way through his field felt unmistakably like a nerve being brushed the wrong way. He looked down at his gray-scaled arm, catching a shimmer of a shadow over it.

  From the alcove, Kaelin saw it in the floating ruins; it had hung in shadows like a bat from the broken arches. The vyreling had detached. It has a narrow head shaped for flight or diving and deep blue scales that shimmered off the silver moonlight.

  It flew through the sky — once a wyrmling, now warped by generations of driftroot corruption. It pulsed with hunger for purity, drawn to soulmirrors — the highest resonance until one advances deeper on the thread.

  It hovered, backlit by the moons, its wings curved like fins. Swooping down and breathing fire that arced over the Heartpond, — crackling along the air before hissing into waves. Steam curled upward, turned aside by a ward. Kaelin could feel the pressure tense around him.

  The Vyremling banked again, tighter this time. It opened its jaws wide and loosed a low, distorted roar, a sonic burst tuned for shattering. The dispelling burst rattled the coral and shook the edges of the ward.

  The spiral seal flickered, then shattered. The runes fred, shattering in spiraling trails, then erupting into a starburst of sparkling Essentia before colpsing and plunging into the water.

  The vyreling fred — this time with fire, a searing bst dragged low across the ocean’s edge. It boiled. Steam rose in thick spirals. With a coiled snap of its wings, the vyreling dove into the ocean.

  Esthel says softly, eyes alight. “The Vyreling broke off the first yer of the ward.”

  Kaelin pressed his elbows tightly against the edge of the window, straining forward. He held his breath as he watched the Vyreling’s ripples surge through the water. The creature had floated in front of a group of druids, and the tip of its tail began to glow with a charge. A moment ter, it unleashed a concussive wave burst from its throat with immense pressure and heat. The druids moved in a practiced formation. Before the creature’s pressure could strike, their Fields fred in unison, weaving into a protective net of Essentia. Some raised warding runes, others grounded themselves, bracing the surge together, reflecting the attack back on the vyreling.

  Kaelin could feel the vyreling crashing into some reefs through his driftroot, a fre blooming hot beneath his ribs.

  His Essentia flickers like a wavering candle fme, pulsing involuntarily with an unsettling rhythm. Each pulse was vibrant, resonating with the vryeling’s fury.

  Esthel reached toward him suddenly, voice low. “Don’t react. Your Field's still unstable—it’ll sense you.” Something inside him stirred like a knot behind his ribs.

  “I will try. You think… It's looking for me?” he whispered, not sure if he wanted an answer.

  Esthel didn’t blink. “If it is, it won’t get past Llyrian.”

  “What do you think it's doing?” he asked again.

  “Looking for soulmirrors,” she said, slightly annoyed. Her gaze was fixed on the vyreling.

  “When are you able to start patrolling the sea?” Kaelin whispered, the words barely escaping.

  Esthel shrugged, her gaze never leaving. “Master Llyrian said patrolling in the ocean is only for Heart Thread and higher. We’re just taught to train and take care of our mantas until we get to Heart. We’re not very useful, outside, until then.”

  Kaelin exhaled slowly. “I envy you.” Master Vasalith has us reading all day. Studying about Driftroots, thread forms, and Essentia spells. Feels like I’m learning to become a bookkeeper, not a druid for the cradle.” He gnced sideways, voice quieter. “Have you seen Dyuun out there yet?”

  Esthel nodded once, eyes scanning the outer edge of the garden. “Yeah. He’s at the edge of the garden. Watching, like he’s waiting to take credit from someone.”

  Kaelin tried to find him, but could not see Dyuun. But Master Llyrian appeared suspended, within the ocean-garden ring that bordered the Heartpond. The tide curved through reefs, and his fin-ced legs. His silver-blue eyes were tracking the vyreling’s path. The bioluminescent markings on his body, usually dormant, shimmered faintly beneath his colrbone in response to the shift in the water’s pressure. One hand glided beside him, webbed fingers outstretched to embrace the ocean current. Ripples radiated from his palm in concentric circles, as if the water itself were attuned to his spirit.

  A merfolk druid broke formation and swam forward.

  Esthel had squinted at first. Her breath caught, eyes wide with awe, as the druid's movements rippled through the ocean twice as fast as any spear fish.

  The water around the druid pulsed with heavy pressure — kelp-cloaked and bare-armed with both hands extended, she traced a spiraled rune into the water, silent and deliberate. And the vyreling didn’t notice in time — it smmed. The spiral ward held, like steel shaped by intent. Pressure rippled outward from the point of impact, shuddering through the water like a drumbeat in reverse. For a breathless moment, the temple held its silence. The creature recoiled and shifted toward the Heartpond, and the merfolk's posture shifted with it.

  Esthel leaned closer to the alcove’s edge. “That’s odd,” she whispered, breath quickening. “Normally, Llyrian would deal with a cursed Vyreling personally... but that's— Solen.”

  Solen didn't just use the unsettled ripples; it became her epicenter. With a finger pressed to her head, her focus narrowed to an incandescent point aimed at the Vyreling. Then, a profound resonance emanated from the echo; it was the ocean's own voice turned weapon. This inverted thunder was a crushing silence that folded reality inward, directly upon the Vyreling. Kaelin and Esthel gasped, the vibration rattling their very bones, the water around the vyreling thrumming like a struck drum. Fish exploded outwards in every direction. The Vyreling’s shriek was abruptly choked off as the repelling wave struck over and over, its body contorting as it was violently shunted aside. The deep waters seemed to convulse in response to Solen’s final call, currents erupting into a furious, churning vortex that rejected the Vyreling, sending the now-terrified creature tumbling back into the abyss.

  Kaelin barely caught the flicker of scaled blue slipping past the reef’s edge.

  Below, his gaze dropped toward the Heartpond, where Master Llyrian stood, utterly unmoving. The currents around him thrashed and twisted, agitated by Solen's earlier spell; he was like the eye of a storm, anchored by will alone.

  Esthel’s voice broke the silence behind him, bright with awe. “Did you catch the way she moved? Solen taught me all about driftstones, and it was impressive. She was truly remarkable!”

  The shimmer of Solen's repelling wave was a distant hum to Kaelin, his senses singurly fixed on the Vyreling's retreating form. An almost forgotten part of him, the Drakyn warrior he once was, stirred at the sight of the young dragon, a predatory thrill that was deeply, terrifyingly familiar. His focus became unnervingly absolute. This creature was everything his original bloodline was meant to challenge. Yet, beneath that inherited warrior’s gleam, a tremor of fear ran deep. To engage, to truly fight something like this, was to risk unleashing the Oni, to surrender to the berserk fury he now dreaded more than any external foe.

  Please, not again.

  His eyes darkened, the faint shimmer of his Essentia pulsing low. If it comes back up… I don't think I'll be able to sit back.

  Esthel didn’t notice the flickers in his field. She twirled a frepetal between her fingers, the light catching on her braid. “She is in the second stage of The Voice Thread,” she added, almost giddy. “I’ll be there soon enough.”

  Kaelin blinked, a flicker of light still caught behind his gaze — then it faded, his eyes settling back to normal. " You only started a year before me. What are you trying to say?”

  "You know how it is—it's time to catch up!" she said, a pyful smile spreading across her face. Despite a split above her lip and faint bruises shadowing her cheek, she beamed with joy. Pivoting gracefully, she headed toward the seaweed curtains, her steps light and buoyant, as if she were floating on air, even through the ache.

  He swept his gaze across the heartpond, searching for any elusive soulmirrors. “Damn it,” he muttered with frustration. “All the soulmirrors have disappeared."

  Somewhere deep in the current, Kaelin heard the presence again. Something is circling just outside, but with too many teeth.

  Kaelin whispered to himself, "I’m gd we don’t have to fight that. Llyrian and Solen should be able to take care of things."

  I really need to get stronger and rid myself of this curse.