Chapter One: The Day the Flame Broke the Silence
Part Two: Before the Scar Fell From the Sky
The bowls clinked against the wooden table, spoons dipping in rhythm, steam curling past Kaelen's half-buzzed excitement as he leaned forward.
"One more month," he repeated between bites, "and we're officially Resonants. Not recruits. Not pulses-in-training. Resonants. Imagine that."
"Imagine failing," Yolti said, mouth full of broth.
Kaelen squinted at her. "I'm trying not to."
Selka sat beside Zephryn, quiet, legs folded, eyes cast toward the window. She hadn't touched her stew yet, but she held the spoon gently in her left hand, stirring with faint absent motion.
Zephryn ate slowly, methodical as always, eyes half-lowered like he was already seeing something they couldn't.
Solara leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, apron loose, watching them with a softness that didn't come often. She wasn't old—her face hadn't even begun to wrinkle—but there was something in her stillness that felt aged. Like a song she'd heard too many times but couldn't bear to forget.
Kaelen nudged Yolti. "You ever think about what kind of Veilmark you'll get?"
"I'm thinking about dessert."
Kaelen laughed. "That's probably a dangerous pulse type."
"Yours will be 'Excessive Talking,'" she muttered.
Zephryn glanced at Kaelen. "You already show flame tendencies. You'll pass."
Kaelen blinked. "…Thanks, I guess?"
Zephryn looked back to his bowl.
Solara walked over and placed a hand on Selka's shoulder. "You alright?"
Selka looked up. She nodded.
"You're leaving for the capital again tomorrow, right?" Solara asked, quieter this time.
Selka nodded again.
"Take the pulse bike this time. And don't crash again."
A faint, fleeting smile curled on Selka's lips.
Kaelen leaned in. "Wait, she crashed?!"
Solara waved a spoon at him. "That's classified."
Selka stood slowly, walking toward the door. She paused, looked over her shoulder at Zephryn.
He met her eyes.
Without speaking, she grabbed his hand.
Kaelen let out a low, dramatic gasp.
"Oh my Void," Yolti whispered. "They're in love."
"Shut up," Zephryn muttered.
Selka pulled him toward the bikes, her fingers tight around his wrist, smile barely forming as she dragged him away. Zephryn glanced at Solara one last time.
She gave a small wave. "Be careful."
Selka nodded and mounted the bike.
Solara called after her. "And no racing this time! I need you alive for tomorrow!"
The engine hummed. Zephryn gave a quiet smile.
She vanished over the rise.
Inside, Kaelen stood near the door, stretching.
"Yolti," he said, "you gonna drive your own bike tomorrow?"
"You want me to crash into a resonance pillar again?"
"You gotta start sometime."
"I'll start when the road stops moving."
Kaelen stepped out, looked up at the stars just beginning to flicker through the veil. He turned back to Zephryn, who hadn't moved from the doorway.
"Come train," Kaelen said.
Zephryn didn't answer.
"You've gotta try," Kaelen added. "Even if your Veilmark hasn't shown, doesn't mean it's not forming. Might be late. Might be rare."
Solara walked over, drying her hands with a cloth. "Go on," she said. "There's nothing wrong with practicing."
Zephryn hesitated. His eyes flicked from Kaelen to Solara… then to the scarf wrapped around her neck—the faded lavender one with the broken stitch.
"I'll stay here," he said softly. "Just in case."
Kaelen frowned. "You always say that."
Zephryn didn't respond.
Solara wrapped the scarf around his neck with a gentle flick, tightening it just enough to pull him forward.
She leaned down and kissed his cheek.
"This is why I love you," she whispered.
"Mom," Zephryn hissed, blushing instantly. "Please—"
Kaelen howled from outside. "MOOOOOOOOOOOM!"
Yolti nearly choked laughing.
"I heard that," Solara said without turning. "Still love you, too."
The night stretched like a breath held too long.
Kaelen and Yolti vanished into the distance, bikes humming over the water.
Zephryn stood alone outside the hut, scarf still warm against his neck, watching where Selka and Kaelen had disappeared.
Solara returned to her kitchen.
Inside, the lights flickered once.
The hum of the resonance player skipped.
Outside, something stirred in the cliff shadows—too quiet to hear, too slow to see.
But already, the sky had begun to shift.