The journey back to Thalden's Hollow was quiet, every student deep in thought.
Eryon walked at the center of the group, silent, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. The shrine's heat still lingered beneath his skin. It didn't hurt—but it didn't fade either.
Beside him, Alice remained vigilant. She hadn't pressed him with more questions, but her eyes flicked to him more often than before, thoughtful.
When they returned, Braedon dismissed the villagers who'd come to greet them.
"We'll speak inside," he said, leading the students to the barracks.
The common hall was dim and quiet. Braedon stood at the head of the room, arms crossed.
"You all did well," he began. "You faced something none of us expected. Ancient constructs, elemental corruption, and a shrine tied to one of the oldest forgotten sects in the Empire. You survived—and uncovered something far more important than we thought."
He turned to Eryon.
"Your name will spread after this. That symbol, that reaction—it won't go unnoticed. The Academy will want answers. Others will too."
Eryon felt the weight settle heavier on his shoulders. "I didn't ask for it."
"Power doesn't wait for permission," Braedon said. "But you're not alone. You'll be watched. Guided. And tested."
Alice leaned forward. "That shrine… it didn't just awaken him. It warned us."
Braedon nodded. "Yes. The Cycle. Whatever that means, the Empire will want to know. We're sending a report. A team will arrive within the week. Until then, you stay here. Guard the shrine."
Later that night, Eryon sat on the edge of a small cliff behind the village, the forest stretching endlessly before him. Flames flickered along his fingertips, responding to no command.
Alice found him again, her approach silent.
"You're different now," she said quietly.
"Feels like something's watching me. Waiting."
"Then be ready," she said. "Next time, it might not wait."
He looked up at her, her silver gaze calm yet piercing.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"Because I've been chosen too," she said, surprising him. "Maybe not by fire. But something woke up in me when you stood in that arena and refused to fight. And I hated you for it. Because it made me doubt what I stood on."
She turned to leave, then paused.
"But maybe doubt is the start of strength."
Eryon watched her disappear into the dark, her words burning brighter than the fire in his hands.
Down in the village, the shrine pulsed once.
Quiet.
Waiting.