The lanterns hovered just outside the ward dome like three wary eyes.
Their light slid over tree trunks and frost-crusted stones, searching for the edge—testing for a weakness. The men carrying them kept their distance from the invisible boundary, but not out of respect.
Out of experience.
Elowen didn't move.
Neither did I.
I stayed tucked under her cloak, pressed against her chest, my presence folded inward so tightly it felt like holding my own breath.
Maera stood by the mile-stone like a carved statue, crescent blade sheathed, hands relaxed at her sides.
Relaxed didn't mean safe.
It meant ready.
Outside the wardline, the patrol's voice came again, louder.
"Lady Elowen! By order of the Sanctum Council, you are to return immediately. The relic is to be placed in secure custody. Noncompliance will be treated as—"
Maera spoke without raising her voice, but it carried anyway—flat, calm, and sharp enough to cut rope.
"Stop reading decrees you don't understand."
The patrol went still.
A man stepped forward into the lantern light—captain by the way he wore his armor, emblem polished, chin lifted.
"Identify yourself," he demanded.
Maera's tone didn't change. "Captain Maera Voss. Dawnwatch Inquisitor."
There was a pause.
Even through the ward haze, I felt it: the patrol captain recognizing a title that outranked his paper.
"You have no authority here," the patrol captain said, but his voice had lost its confidence.
Maera tilted her head slightly. "You're standing outside an old covenant mile-stone. That alone proves you're out of your depth."
Elowen's hand tightened around me under the cloak—protective, steady.
I whispered through the bond.
They can't cross?
Not unless they have the right key, Elowen replied. Or unless they break it.
Maera lifted a finger and pointed to the wardline—an invisible curve in the air where lantern light bent strangely.
"Step closer," Maera said. "If you truly believe your council decree overrides covenant law."
The patrol captain hesitated.
One of his men shifted, and I saw the glint of something at his belt—a small silver rod etched with runes.
My stomach dropped.
A ward-key.
Not for this mile-stone—those were older than the Sanctum—but keys could poke holes. Micro-gaps.
Maera noticed too. Her eyes flicked to the rod, then back to the captain.
"You brought a breach tool," Maera said coolly. "That's interesting. Tell me—did the council order you to break a covenant ward… or did someone else suggest it?"
The patrol captain's jaw clenched. "We were told the relic is dangerous."
Maera nodded once, like she'd expected the lie. "It is."
Elowen went still.
I felt her anger spike—then clamp down.
Maera continued, voice steady. "Not because it can kill. Because it can refuse to let people die. And there are those inside your Sanctum who hate that kind of power."
The captain's eyes narrowed. "You're accusing the council of treason."
"I'm accusing your orders of being compromised," Maera corrected. "And I'm telling you this: if you force a breach, you'll be responsible for whatever follows the scent of awakened light."
A cold silence.
Then the captain raised his chin. "Open the ward and present Lady Elowen."
Maera didn't move. "No."
The captain's hand twitched toward the ward-key.
Elowen's cloak tightened around me as she shifted—subtle, preparing.
I whispered.
Mommy—
Elowen's breath hitched softly at the word, but her reply came through the bond like a shield sliding into place.
Shh. I'm here. Fold in. Stay quiet.
I obeyed.
My core loop tightened, anchor steady. My runes dimmed further until I felt almost… blank.
Not gone.
Just hard to find.
The captain lifted the ward-key rod and spoke a short command.
The air at the wardline shivered.
A thin seam appeared—barely visible, like a hairline crack in glass.
Maera's eyes sharpened. "Don't."
The captain didn't listen.
He pushed the rod forward.
The seam widened just enough to let a thread slip through—
Not a person.
Not yet.
A thin dark strand, searching.
A marking attempt.
My chest went cold.
Maera didn't strike it.
She didn't panic.
She only said, "Rin."
Elowen's hand pressed firmly against my back under the cloak.
Denial, Elowen reminded me through the bond. Shape, not power.
I gathered myself—not to flare bright, not to fight.
To refuse.
I wrapped my presence in a sealed shell, smooth and stubborn, like armor no hook could catch.
The shadow thread touched the wardline, slid inside through the seam—
—and reached for me.
It found nothing to grip.
It tried again, searching, probing.
I held the shape.
The thread trembled, confused.
Then it recoiled sharply, snapping back through the seam like it had been burned—without ever touching a flame.
The patrol captain staggered half a step, as if whatever held the other end of that thread had yanked his hand.
Maera's voice turned colder. "That wasn't a council tool. That was a caster's line."
The captain's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"
Maera lifted her chin. "You just tried to tag an awakened relic using a hostile tether. Either you're compromised… or you're being used."
The captain's face tightened, fear bleeding through his authority. "We were told—"
"Of course you were," Maera cut in. "Now listen carefully. You will close that seam, return to the Sanctum, and you will report this exact fact: hostile forces are operating through your patrol orders."
The captain swallowed. His gaze flicked over the wardline like it had suddenly become a cliff edge.
He lowered the rod.
The seam in the air stitched itself closed with a soft, reluctant thrum.
Maera didn't relax. "And if you truly serve the Sanctum, you'll ask yourself why the council is hunting the Heroine while assassins hunt the same target."
The captain's jaw clenched. "This will be reported."
Maera nodded. "Good. Let it be."
The patrol backed away slowly, lanterns drifting into the trees until the light vanished and the forest swallowed them whole.
Only when the last glow was gone did Elowen exhale.
Her hand found my head under the cloak, fingers trembling once before steadying.
"You did it," she whispered.
I swallowed, voice small. "I didn't flare."
Elowen's voice warmed. "You held. That's harder."
Maera finally turned her head, eyes sharp in the dark. "Pack. Now. They'll return with more force, or they'll return with something that doesn't care about covenant wards."
The mother of the rescued children stirred, panic waking her. "Are they coming back?"
Elowen stepped forward, calm despite the storm in her bond. "Not tonight. But we're leaving before dawn."
The family nodded quickly—no arguments, only fear and gratitude.
Elowen shifted the cloak and looked down at me.
"You can walk?" she asked softly.
I nodded, stubbornly. "Yes."
Elowen hesitated… then lifted me anyway and settled me back into the sling against her chest.
I groaned. "This is unfair."
Elowen's reply was quiet and absolute. "I don't care."
My cheeks heated, and my mouth betrayed me one more time—soft, unplanned, comforting in the way it shouldn't have been.
"Mommy…"
Elowen didn't stumble this time.
She only pressed her palm gently to my back and answered like a promise.
"Yes, Rin. I've got you."
And for a few heartbeats, under a ward dome older than the Sanctum itself, I felt something I hadn't felt since waking in velvet darkness:
Not just safe.
Held.
RIN — CORE STATUS Anchor: STABLE Emergency Re-Sheath: ACTIVE Quiet Defense (Denial Shell): SUCCESS (No Alert) Reservoir: LOW–MED (Recovering) Risk: MARKING / INSIDER BREACH TOOLS
We moved out before the fire could fully die—quiet, fast, and together—leaving the mile-stone behind like a closed eye in the dark.