Chapter One: The Day the Flame Broke the Silence
Part One: The Ones Who Rode Through Ash
The clouds hung low above the water, bruised violet with the weight of dusk. Their reflection shimmered like cracked glass across the lake's surface—broken light dancing under the hum of two pulse bikes cutting through silence.
Zephryn gripped the handles of the front bike, fingers steady, eyes locked ahead. Behind him, Selka sat without a word, her small hands curled around the back rail, scarf fluttering gently with the wind. She didn't speak. She never did when they rode—not unless he asked.
The second bike followed just behind, Kaelen's laughter rising above the pulse-engine's rhythmic thrum.
"Yolti!" he shouted, shifting slightly. "Quit squeezing me like that! You're not falling off, I promise!"
"I wouldn't have to squeeze you if you didn't ride like you were in a race against death!" Yolti shouted back, clutching Kaelen's shoulders tightly, her voice two tones higher than usual.
Kaelen grinned, the wind tearing through his hair. "You want to drive next time?"
"Do I look suicidal to you?!"
Up ahead, Zephryn smirked quietly but didn't look back. His eyes remained forward, locked on the stretch of water that lay between the edge of the village and home.
They were close.
The hollow cliffs rose to the left—sharp and vast, bones of the land jutting like ribs from beneath the green. The lake ran cold beneath them, but the bikes danced over the water with ease, skimming soundlessly over the thin pulse field laced across its surface.
Then, a sharp voice rang from behind a pillar near the eastern ridge.
"Halt!"
Zephryn tensed.
A guard stepped into view—Doctrine patrol, silver mask, black robes, long staff gripped in both hands.
"I said halt, all of you!"
Kaelen slowed immediately.
Yolti, wide-eyed, whispered, "Do we stop?"
"No," Zephryn said calmly.
Selka's hand moved. Not to grab him—but to brace herself.
The guard took two steps forward. "You are not authorized to travel past the southern water after curfew. Dismount and submit for registration."
Zephryn's foot hit the ground.
Not to stop the bike—but to kick himself into a spin.
The back tire hissed in a tight arc, sweeping forward as he launched himself from the seat in one motion. His heel struck the gravel, and then—his foot landed squarely in the guard's chest.
The man flew back.
The sound he made was more breath than voice, crashing into the pillar he'd stepped out from. The staff clattered to the side, spinning.
Zephryn landed, quiet, as if nothing had happened.
Kaelen's jaw dropped.
Yolti's breath caught.
Selka didn't blink.
"Get back on," Zephryn said, calmly.
Selka was already climbing.
High above, cloaked in resonance shielding, a single Hollow Choir agent stood perched along the jagged rock spine of the northern cliff. His veil-pinned mask shimmered once, catching only the pulsewave from Zephryn's strike.
He pressed his finger to his earpiece.
"Designation Subject Blue is leaving the perimeter. Confirmed glyph-surge strength at juvenile level… unusually stabilized. Shall we engage?"
No answer. Just static—then the faint melody of an ancient chime.
The agent waited.
Back on the bikes, Kaelen rode beside Zephryn now, pulse lights flickering under their frames.
"Yo…" Kaelen said, glancing over. "You didn't even hesitate."
Zephryn didn't answer.
Kaelen glanced behind him. "Yolti, you see that kick?"
"Do you want me to puke on you?" she muttered, still gripping him tightly. "Because I'm close."
Selka remained quiet.
Kaelen leaned slightly and looked over his shoulder. "You like the weather today, Selka?"
No response.
"Clouds are nice, yeah?"
Still nothing.
Yolti nudged Kaelen. "She's not gonna answer. She only talks to Solara and Zephryn. Been like that since we met 'em."
"I know," Kaelen said. "Still. Maybe one day she'll come around."
The bikes glided over the water, cutting soft wakes that glimmered under the last stretch of evening. Ahead, nestled against the base of a rounded cliff, the hut waited. The place they always returned to. The place that smelled like warmth and spices and old books with half-missing covers.
Solara's hut.
The lights were on inside—faint golden glow leaking through the curtains.
Zephryn slowed, easing the bike toward the path.
Kaelen followed, tilting the front wheel slightly onto the gravel.
Just as they came to a stop—
The door creaked open.
"You better take those shoes off before you even think about coming in," Solara's voice rang out, firm and amused. "Mud tracks inside, and none of you get dinner."
"Yes, ma'am," Kaelen called, already laughing as he hopped off.
"I wasn't wearing shoes," Yolti added.
"You don't count. You live barefoot."
Selka stepped down. Zephryn parked the bike.
Solara stood in the doorway, apron stained with broth, hair pulled up loosely, and that same half-tired, half-luminous look she always wore after cooking.
Kaelen saluted her like a soldier. "Reporting for food duty."
She raised an eyebrow. "You've got two seconds to lose those boots, soldier boy."
Kaelen dropped to the ground immediately, unstrapping.
Yolti tossed hers into the corner without finesse. "Done."
Zephryn stood silently, removing his calmly.
Selka placed hers neatly beside the door, aligning them with precision.
Solara stepped back and let them in.
Inside the hut, the air was thick with warmth—steam from the stew pot still drifting, fresh-cut rootfruit stacked in wooden bowls, and the faint sound of an old resonance player ticking softly in the corner.
Kaelen plopped down first, stretching. "One more month."
"One more month until what?" Yolti asked, already chewing.
"Until we officially qualify for full Resonant rank. Lyceum evaluation's almost here."
"Don't jinx it," Zephryn muttered.
Kaelen grinned. "You ready, Selka?"
Selka didn't answer. But she didn't frown either.
Kaelen nodded to himself. "That's a maybe."