The forest was quiet again. Too quiet.
Even the wind seemed afraid to disturb the stillness left behind by Kael's strike.
Lira stared at him, her silver eyes wide with disbelief.
The ground around him was scorched in the faint outline of a circle — a mark not drawn by human hand, but burned into the Loom itself.
> "That wasn't a spell," she whispered.
"I told you," Kael said, still breathing hard. "I don't remember how I did it."
Lira knelt to examine the mark. It glowed faintly crimson, its shape pulsing in rhythm with Kael's heartbeat.
At its center was a sigil — ancient, circular, and sharp-edged — a design long forbidden in Ardentis' texts.
Her breath caught. "This… this is impossible."
> "What is it?" Kael asked.
"A war sigil," she said. "It hasn't appeared since the Age of Spirits."
The words stirred something deep in Kael's chest — a faint ache, a memory of thunder and iron. His sword vibrated against his back as if recognizing its own name.
> "The Age of Spirits," he murmured. "Was that… a war?"
"The last war," Lira said. "The one that broke the Loom."
She rose to her feet, eyes narrowing. "Who are you, Kael Varion?"
> "I wish I knew."
Silence stretched between them — heavy, uncertain, but strangely fragile.
Lira's gaze softened. "Then we'll find out together," she said finally. "Come with me. Ardentis has archives — records of every known magic in the world. If that sigil exists, it'll be there."
Kael hesitated. "You'd help a stranger?"
She smiled faintly. "I'm not helping a stranger. I'm helping someone the Loom itself reacted to."
Before he could answer, a sharp pain flared in his palm.
He looked down — the same crimson light was seeping from his skin, shaping itself into the sigil once more.
Lira stepped closer, her hand hovering over his. "It's… bonding with you. It's marking you."
> "For what?"
"For something vast," she whispered. "Something older than the Academy."
The sigil pulsed brighter — then sank into his flesh, leaving behind a faint scar like an ancient rune burned into his veins.
The forest trembled. Above them, clouds gathered, crimson at the edges.
Somewhere far away, the Resonant Bells tolled again — a sound of both warning and awakening.
Lira took a deep breath. "We have to move. The Threadveil will react to that power again soon. Follow me."
Kael nodded silently, though his eyes lingered on the faint glow still flickering beneath his skin.
As they walked, the bells faded into the wind.
But neither of them noticed the figures watching from the shadows — robed silhouettes bearing the insignia of a broken loom.
The Obsidian Division had seen the flare of warlight… and they now knew the impossible truth.
> "The Spirit of War walks again," one whispered.
"And this time, we will claim him."