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Chapter 4 - Whispers of the Marsh

The first light of dawn seeped through the reeds, painting the marsh in soft gold. Mist curled above the water, carrying the scent of wet earth and mint.

Aiden woke to the rhythm of droplets tapping against the roof of Eira's hut. For a moment, he forgot which world he was in, until he saw Lyra asleep by the hearth and Eira grinding herbs in a stone bowl.

"Morning," he said quietly.

Eira looked up and smiled. "You slept deeply. That's good. Your aura needed rest."

Aiden sat up, rubbing his neck. "Aura. You keep saying that. What does it actually mean?"

She handed him a small bowl of steaming liquid. "Drink first. Then I'll show you."

He sniffed it. "This isn't another sedative, right?"

"Not unless you drink the whole cauldron." Her smirk was disarming, and he trusted her enough to sip. It was bitter, but it warmed him from the inside out.

Lyra stirred, blinking. "You're up early."

"Eira wants to show me something," Aiden said.

Lyra yawned. "Don't let her drown you."

Eira chuckled. "He'll stay on land. For now."

They walked to a shallow pool just beyond the hut. The water glimmered faintly, dotted with floating lotus-like leaves. "Mana isn't just magic," Eira said, dipping her fingers in. "It's the breath of the world, the pulse that flows through every living thing. When men vanished, half of that pulse fell silent."

Aiden crouched beside her. "And I'm supposed to… restart it?"

"Not alone. But you carry resonance the world hasn't felt in centuries." She pointed to the pool. "Place your hand here. Don't think about control. Just listen."

He hesitated, then did as told. The water was cool, alive somehow. He closed his eyes. At first there was only silence, then, vibration. Like distant thunder rolling beneath his skin. His heartbeat synced with it.

Eira's voice was low, almost hypnotic. "You feel it, don't you? The connection."

Aiden nodded slowly. "It's… loud."

"That's your attunement. It means you can influence mana without casting. You'll need to learn focus, or the land itself will react to your emotions."

Lyra approached, arms crossed. "That explains the glowing trees last night."

Aiden looked up. "That was me?"

"You and your panic," she said softly. "When you fear, the world feels it."

Eira smiled faintly. "Now imagine what happens when you hope."

Later, they sat by the fire as Eira mixed crushed petals with ash. "These marks," she explained, drawing lines on his forearm, "will help dampen your aura until you learn control. The Queen's seers won't sense you as easily."

Aiden watched the ink swirl into his skin. It tingled but didn't hurt. "So, camouflage."

"In a sense," Eira said. "Though you'll need to renew it every few days."

Lyra knelt nearby, tracing symbols in the dirt. "If this works, we can move further west. There are ruins there, pre-Blight. Maybe something that explains the old prophecies."

Eira looked at her. "Ruins mean danger. Spirits linger."

"So does everything worth finding," Lyra replied.

Aiden half-smiled. "I'm starting to think you enjoy running for your life."

She met his gaze. "I enjoy fixing mistakes. You're part of that."

The words lingered, heavier than she meant them to be. Eira noticed the silence between them and turned away to tend the fire.

That night, the marsh whispered again.

It wasn't wind. It was something deeper, a vibration through the reeds, faint and rhythmic. Eira stiffened. "That's not natural."

Lyra drew her dagger. "Scouts?"

Eira shook her head. "Too far south for soldiers. But… someone's moving in formation."

Aiden felt his pulse quicken. The markings on his arm flickered faintly, as if echoing the sound. He whispered, "Could it be Captain Dahl?"

Eira's expression hardened. "If she's still alive, she'll hunt until she finds you."

Lyra clenched her jaw. "She will be relentless."

"Then we move before sunrise," Aiden said. He didn't like the fear creeping up his spine, but running was better than waiting. "How far to the ruins?"

"A day, if we follow the old causeway," Eira replied. "But it's half-swallowed by the swamp."

Lyra nodded. "Then we travel light."

Eira extinguished the lamps one by one. Darkness folded around them.

They departed before dawn, carrying only essentials. The causeway was little more than broken stones buried in mud, but it led toward faint silhouettes rising in the distance, ancient spires lost to time.

Aiden glanced back once. The hut was already fading behind mist.

He wondered if this was how survival worked now: always moving, never belonging.

Lyra caught his look. "Don't. Attachment makes escape harder."

He managed a crooked smile. "You sound like you've done this before."

"I've run from worse things than guilt," she said quietly.

Ahead, Eira raised her staff. "Quiet now. The marsh listens."

They pressed on, every step a whisper on wet earth. The horizon brightened, revealing ruins cloaked in vines and, far behind them, a glint of steel in the morning haze.

Captain Seren Dahl had found the trail.

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