It had been a grueling day of training, and Kleo couldn’t help but reflect on how far Jack had come. Though she had forbidden him from using magic until he fully recovered, both agreed that physical training was fair game.
He spent the morning in relentless hand-to-hand combat with her, and she showed him no mercy. Rugr had never gone easy on her—not even when she was nine and learning the basics—so she saw no reason to spare Jack the same tough love. If he wanted to master these skills, he had to earn them.
What impressed Kleo most was his tenacity. Jack absorbed instruction like a sponge, his natural agility shining in every session. His balance was impeccable, his footwork swift. She had noticed it when they danced among the Woogs, but seeing it applied in combat was something else entirely.
He was starting to think ahead, anticipating her moves. Yet, for all his promise, she still had years of training on him. Every morning after breakfast, Jack took a beating—and every morning, he got back up, ready for more.
After lunch, Chief Harold and Chester drilled him with a spear and sword, focusing on form, footwork, and strategy. Jack trained tirelessly, repeating Slash. Parry. Counterattack. over and over until the light faded, and Kleo finally insisted he stop and eat.
She knew why he pushed himself so hard. It wasn’t only for his personal growth or to prove his worth. Jack didn’t want to be a liability—he didn’t want to disappoint her. Every drop of sweat, every bruise, every exhausted breath was a testament to how much he cared. But beyond that, Kleo understood the more profound truth: he wanted to protect her.
The memory of their conversation in the forest lingered. Jack had been right—she was holding him back. Fear of losing him gnawed at her, selfish and unshakable. If she were to transcend with her Kadas Shadoom and embrace her destiny, she couldn’t let fear cloud her judgment. And if Jack was to become who he was meant to be, she couldn’t be the one standing in his way.
But acknowledging the truth didn’t make it easier to act on. Letting go of that fear felt impossible—like loosening her grip on the only thing keeping her tethered to safety. She knew she would carry it until her dying day, no matter how much she tried to let it go.
Still, as she watched Jack eat, weary but grinning in quiet satisfaction, a flicker of hope stirred inside her. He was determined, and he was strong. In time, if the Fates allowed, they would become who they were meant to be—together.
After dinner, they moved on to a different form of training—building their metaphysical connection. Kleo wanted to explore Jack’s memories of the Battle of the Dark Witch, and he had agreed to let her question him during their practice.
They sat cross-legged on the floor of their bungalow, candlelight flickering between them. Their hands met, fingers clasping as they closed their eyes, allowing the flow of chi between them to awaken. At first, it was tentative, a trickling current between them. Then, as the distractions of the day ebbed away, the connection deepened—their energies intertwining in a fluid, rhythmic dance.
Kleo’s voice came soft and low, like a ripple across still water.
“Jack, I want you to remember what happened that night—what came after—before you returned to me.”
She felt him tense, his energy shuddering within their bond. She squeezed his hands gently, offering silent reassurance. She wouldn’t push. He had to go at his own pace.
After a long pause, Jack spoke, his voice distant. Searching.
“I remember… something dark. Foul. Hideous. I wasn’t afraid—I wanted to destroy it. I needed to destroy it. The energy built inside me, surging beyond my limit, until—” he hesitated, struggling for words. “Until it broke me. As I overloaded, a bright flash burned everything away… then, just as suddenly, nothing. A void.”
The connection quivered—his energy trembling against hers. She started to withdraw, afraid she was pushing too hard.
Jack’s grip tightened. “No,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”
She nodded, her voice a steadying anchor. “Okay.”
Jack’s breath came uneven, his mind drifting further.
“I wasn’t me anymore. I was… scattered. Broken. My soul shattered like shards of glass thrown into a storm. I wasn’t in a place—I was in pieces, drifting, dissolving into nothing.”
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Kleo steadied their energy, her breath slowing to match his.
“Did you feel pain?”
Jack frowned, his expression flickering between confusion and awe.
“No. It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t anything. I was unmade. There was no ‘Jack’—only broken fragments. But I knew I had to put myself back together. I started… reaching. But I wasn’t reaching with my hands. I was pulling pieces of myself from nowhere, gathering something invisible, something I felt but couldn’t see.”
His words faltered, frustration creeping into his tone. “It doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“It doesn’t have to,” Kleo reassured him. “Keep going.”
Jack exhaled.
“At first, I was alone. But then, something changed. Something shifted. I was… reforming? I don’t know how to explain it. It was like waking up, but not all at once. I was still scattered, still incomplete, but something—someone—was there.”
Kleo’s brow furrowed. “Someone?”
Jack nodded.
“She held me together. She knew me, even when I didn’t know myself. She knew my name—she called me Jack. And the strange thing was… I didn’t even remember my name until she spoke it.”
Kleo’s pulse quickened at the mention of another woman. The connection between them faltered for a heartbeat. She stilled her emotions, hoping Jack hadn’t noticed—but she felt the soft ripple of his chi in response. He had. He was reassuring her now.
“What else do you remember?”
Jack frowned, frustration deepening.
“It’s like a dream slipping away the moment you wake up. I know it happened—I can feel it happened—but the details are like mist in the air.”
He let out a slow breath, searching for the right words.
“It wasn’t linear. It's not a story with a beginning and end. It was… everything, all at once. Moments overlapping. Indivisible. Simultaneous.”
Kleo’s grip on his hands tightened. “And this… presence? The one who called your name?”
Jack’s brow furrowed in thought.
“She wasn’t a person—not exactly. More like… a presence. Compassionate. Endless. She surrounded me, filled me, but she wasn’t me. It felt like she was… waiting for me. Helping me gather the pieces of myself I couldn’t reach.”
He hesitated before adding, “I thought she was you.”
Kleo’s breath caught.
“You thought?”
Jack nodded. “I called her ‘Kleo’ once, and she laughed. Her laugh—it wasn’t like any sound I’ve ever heard. It was music. It went on forever. And then she said…”
He trailed off, straining to recall.
“She said, ‘I’m not Kleo, but that’s an easy mistake to make. Kleo is the thread between us—we are both trying to find our way back to her.’”
A shiver ran down Kleo’s spine.
“What do you think she meant?”
Jack exhaled, shaking his head. “At the time, I understood. It felt so obvious. But now… it’s just words.”
He let out a tired laugh. “I sound insane, don’t I?”
“No,” Kleo whispered, though her mind was a storm of thoughts. This wasn’t the simple recollection of events she had anticipated.
This was something more.
She could feel it—something lingering beyond Jack’s words, beyond his understanding. A force that had touched him guided him back. But what was it? Who was it?
Her energy wavered. She was tired. Frayed.
“Let’s stop here for tonight,” she said. “We can continue tomorrow if you’re up for it.”
Jack nodded, and they untangled their energies, letting them retreat to their cores. He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against her lips. Kleo kissed him back, her lips lingering on his cheek and forehead before helping him to his feet.
Bitter lay sprawled on the floor, snoring softly as they climbed into bed.
But sleep did not come easily.
Kleo stared at the ceiling, Jack’s words replaying in her mind. The presence. The laughter.
Kleo is the thread between us.
She didn’t know what it meant.
But she knew one thing for sure—Jack had not been alone during his near-death experience.
Today was done. Tomorrow would bring answers—or more questions.
Tonight, she needed to rest.
Kleo woke in the dead of night, her mind swimming in a haze of half-consciousness. Something had stirred her from sleep, but she couldn’t quite grasp what. Beside her, Jack and Bitter slumbered peacefully. Jack’s soft snores punctuated the quiet room, his chest rising and falling in an unhurried rhythm. Bitter, sprawled on the floor, exhaled deeply, his paws twitching in a dream.
Her first thought was practical: Do I need to pee? She hated the idea of leaving the warm cocoon of blankets to step into the cool night air. Needing to pee was not the issue. A wave of relief washed over her—she could stay exactly where she was.
She closed her eyes again, her body settling into the soft embrace of the mattress. Sleep began to pull her under when she felt it.
Lub-dub.
It was faint, distant, and odd. Not quite a sound, more a vibration, as though the air around her carried the echo of a heartbeat too sluggish to belong to anything alive. She froze, straining her ears. The sensation faded, replaced by the silence of the room.
Am I imagining it?
She waited, her senses sharpening. Then, there it was again.
Lub-dub.
Her heart raced, its tempo far too fast to match the ponderous pulse she felt—or heard. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. She scanned the room, her eyes darting to the faint shapes of furniture in the moonlight, then lingering on the corners where shadows pooled. Nothing was out of place. Jack and Bitter hadn’t stirred.
The pulse came again, slower, fainter. Lub-dub.
She focused, slowing her breath, her body sinking deeper into stillness as she opened herself to the strange rhythm. The sound—or sensation—was almost imperceptible now, like the heartbeat of something impossibly distant, reaching across vast gulfs of space or time to touch her awareness.
And then, it stopped.
She lay there, waiting, listening to the silence until her breath fell into its own slow rhythm. The sensation didn’t return. After a long while, her muscles softened, her mind drifted, and sleep finally reclaimed her.
