Erith's hands trembled as the Murath slid into Maeric's chest, meeting resistance against the erratic drumming of his heart.

His own pulse pounded in his ears. He shook his head, drew in a steadying breath—then drove the needle down, piercing the heart.

Sweat beaded along his brow. One hand braced the Murath while the other rested firm, thumb atop the Murath's release mechanism.

He looked inward. Toward himself. Toward the Murath. His mind reached for the chaotic Mura coiled inside.

For a moment, the lick of the candle's flame crackled softly over the stillness.

Then, Erith firmly pressed his thumb down on the release mechanism, sending the Mura surging into Maeric's body.

Maeric's eyes shot open. His body arched violently as an agonizing howl escaped him.

Tal dropped her satchel, the clatter of tools ringing out across the stone floor.

Maeric's eyes rolled out of focus, and he collapsed back onto the sheets.

The Mura unraveled in the current of Maeric's bloodstream into a cascade of tiny notes.

Amid the chaos—in the raw, excruciating pain mirrored in Maeric's half-conscious eyes, Erith held his concentration. He kept the rhythm.

Erith spun the Mura through Maeric's blood—each strand unraveling into tiny notes of energy. He held onto them all, guiding them as they coursed through Maeric's body.

"Tal, his heart needs to slow," Erith murmured, carefully drawing the Murath out from Maeric's chest.

Blood began to trickle down from Maeric's nostril, dotting the sheets beneath him in a deep red. Tal tore a cloth and pressed it gently to his face, wiping the blood away.

"A few minutes, Erith. Rin and Amun should be back soon with what we need," Tal spoke in a low, steady voice.

I can't wait for it.

Erith's breath stayed even. His mind drifted—light, untethered—riding along the current of Mura threading through Maeric's veins.

As the Mura moved, Erith reached out in his mind, feeling for the Kaida, burning its path through Maeric's body.

There.

He nudged some of the Mura slightly, veering it through the decayed tissue the Kaida had scorched in its wake, until the two met.

The moment the Kaida and Mura collided, Maeric convulsed, seizing in fresh agony. Blood poured heavily from his nose, a bead of blood forming at his eyelid.

Maeric sounded so far away...

From somewhere behind, Erith faintly registered Rin's voice and scuffle of footsteps. He couldn't tell if his eyes were open. If he had closed them. Couldn't tell where he was.

The voices of Rin, Tal, and Amun felt distant to Erith, only fragments of a conversation that was happening just beside him.

"Hold his arm... Can't miss his vein..."

A chill passed by the Mura floating along as he guided it toward the corrupted paths of Kaida. There was a presence of something that wasn’t blood—something soothing. 

Beat by beat, the rhythm of everything slowed…

"One more day of riding before we reach Aldasi, I'd wager." Thatch's voice carried the weight of age—still firm, but with a frailty threaded through.

"Can't say I've ever enjoyed the road back," he added, tying his horse to a tree. The evening sun peaked between the tall oak trees, casting long shadows across the dirt beneath them.

"I was always more eager to leave that city than return to it." A small chuckle escaped him.

He glanced over at Erith, now nearly his height, hair longer, shoulders squared.

"Go on, boy. Speak your mind. Nothing good comes from swallowing it."

Erith tightened the rope in his hands, eyes fixed on the finished knot.

"You hate the place, yet you're dumping me there," he muttered.

"I've lived a lifetime, Erith," Thatch said, his tone reflective. "You're maybe—sixteen? I spent at least that long behind those city walls—"

"You spent all these years warning me what Aldarath would do if they found out about me. And now you're pushing me straight into its capital?" Erith's voice was rising, anger cracking through.

Thatch paused, eyes lingering on Erith's turned back.

"What I warned you about holds true. The Kingdom of Aldarath is broken. Revered once—but it lost itself chasing that reverence."

"Then why are we a day away from it, Thatch?" Erith let go of the rope, turning fully toward him.

Thatch didn't flinch. He continued gathering broken branches into a pile.

"Why suddenly you decide that it's time to just dump me off here?"

"Because, amid all of that ruin, the Surelians remain. And within those corrupt walls, there's still safety—structure. A place where you won't have to fight to survive every day." Thatch's voice remained steady, as he reached in his satchel for a striker.

"So that's it? You just decide my life for me? I'm a sifter, surrounded by people who might turn me into an experiment if they found out what I can do?"

"I cannot choose your life for you, Erith. I'm trying to give you the best choice I can."

"You said the Surelians are as close to the Royal Family as anyone."

"Which is why you'll need to keep your guard up. You're not just powerful, Erith. There is no one in this world who can hold Kaida as you do. Some may not just see you as a weapon. Some may see you as an answer to their faith... A prophecy."

He turned from his satchel, looking directly at Erith.

"And faith like that... Faith can make people do terrible things."

"I could have stayed at the farm. We've been fine—"

"And what happens when I die, Erith?" Thatch's voice sharpened. "What do you do when the farm is the only part of this world you know, and you're alone in it?" He met Erith's gaze, and noticed the boy's expression faltered.

Thatch's eyes softened. A quiet chuckle slipped from him as he turned back to the kindling.

“I’ve taken this road many times, I think I’ve come to see that it’s my last.” The wind rustled gently through the leaves.

“You have many roads ahead of you, Erith. I’m asking you to bear the weight of a choice you didn’t make—one you may not agree with—made by someone who believes they know what’s best for you.”

A tear slid down Erith’s cheek before he could stop it.

“Perhaps it’s the flaw of age—and the cruelty of youth. To make this choice for you, so I can give you the chance to choose the roads you’ll walk—while I still can.”

The last of the Mura crept up the corrupted path and met the Kaida.

Erith blinked his eyes open. He sat cross legged beside Maeric, one hand placed upon his chest as he lay unconscious on the sheets.

His whole body felt stiff. 

How long…

Tal was ringing blood-soaked rags in a bucket of water across the room, where Rin and Amun were leaning on each other underneath the table, sound asleep against the stone wall. 

Used candlesticks were cast aside nearby, and the lone candle burned low.

He looked back at his hand, feeling the steady beat of Maeric’s heart.

Erith reached his mind outward, but nothing answered. The Kaida and Mura were one with Maeric’s body.

Balanced.

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