Cerus’s figure blurred. Raw Kaida burned through Erith’s veins. He fell sideways toward the cobblestone…

…and the world slipped away.

Tall oaks swayed within a gentle breeze, glowing silver beneath the moon. A small Murasi lingered at the base of a tree, its outline faintly shimmering as Erith crept closer.

The twin 'A' sigil stitched across his tunic glimmered in the moonlight—the mark of the Adoses Surelian Sifting Academy. He was younger. His hair shorter, neater.

Slowly, Erith reached toward the Murasi. As his fingers touched its dark surface, the creature unraveled. Like smoke in the wind, it swirled back into him.

“You just—made it disappear. Did it go into you?”

Erith spun, heart hammering. A red-haired boy stood a few paces away, eyes wide.

“What the hell—where did you come from?” Erith hissed. He hadn’t felt any Kaida on the way here. No gem. No warning. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? It’s dangerous to be out here.”

The boy grinned. “Not if I’m with you. You sneak out all the time and come back fine. Do you… eat Murasi or something?”

“Look, whatever you think you saw—”

“I saw you touch something. Black smoke swirled into your body.” He stifled a laugh, lounging back against an oak tree with a smirk. “What did I see, then? Go on.”

Erith stared, at a loss for words.

“I mean, it figures you eat Murasi. Same way you eat Kaida.”

“I—what?”

The boy chuckled. “In refinement lessons today. You filled the container with Kaida, pulled the valve out—before sealing it and stuck your face right over the raw Kaida. Anyone else would’ve been dead before evening.”

Erith froze, trying to recount the lesson from the morning.

The red-haired boy laughed, half incredulous, half delighted. “So you weren’t even trying to eat Kaida. You just don’t need to care about things that kill the rest of us.” He pushed off the tree with a shrug. “Maybe you’re Velora’s son.”

“I’m not a god.” The words snapped out before Erith realized.

“Maybe not.” Elian’s voice softened into something steadier. “But if you’re going to keep doing things that only gods could… and you don’t want anyone finding out… then maybe you need help learning to hide it.”

Erith blinked at the boy, caught between panic and confusion. “You risked coming out here to…help me?”

The boy’s face reddened. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding Erith’s gaze. “That… and I wanted to talk to you. Since you came to the Academy, you’ve made it clear you’d rather be left alone. Most of the others keep their distance.”

He lifted his head up, meeting Erith’s eyes. “But… you don’t really want to be alone. Do you?”

The wind hummed softly through the branches.

The boy stepped forward, extending his hand. “I’m Elian.”

Erith reached out—only to feel a different hand grip his and haul him upright.

“Very noble of you to help your friend.” Cerus’s voice murmured, close enough to send a shiver up his spine. “But I’ll take him from here.”

“Erith, if there’s a time to be a god, now is it.” Amun’s shoulder braced against his, holding him up.

Erith blinked. The silver woods were gone. His vision blurred. Haze still smothered the square. Through it, Cerus strolled closer, calm and unhurried.

“Amun… thank you.” Erith pushed off him,  forcing his body upright.

The warmth of Elian's eyes struck him, a memory that burned brighter than fear.

I don’t want to be alone.

The thought erupted inside him.

Mura surged outward in a massive arc, taller than the spires of the square, flung from Erith’s body. Cobblestones tore free, the air distorted, and the wave of black roared forward.

Cerus’s eyes widened before the surge swallowed him whole, his form vanishing in the storm of stone and dust.

The square tore in half as the arc thundered across, finally crashing into a building with a deafening boom.

“Gods above… Erith!” Amun lunged, catching him as he fell.

“Did it… work?” Erith rasped. Each word was a struggle. His chest heaved, and a fit of coughing tore through him. Wetness filled his mouth, the taste of iron bitter on his tongue.

Amun hoisted him up, Erith’s weight sagging heavy against him. “What, were you aiming for bigger than that? It worked, but it still only buys us minutes.”

They staggered into an alley, Amun half-dragging him forward. Erith clutched at his arm, coughing hard, before slipping down to his knees.

“Just a little more, Erith. The dock stairs are right there.”

Erith’s head jerked weakly toward him, but his gaze was unfocused. “Amun… I can’t… I can’t see.”

The words hit like stone. Blood dripped from Erith’s mouth as his palms pressed against the street. Amun tightened his grip and hauled him up. “If you can tear half a city apart, then I can be your eyes for a while. C'mon, just don’t stop.”

The two pressed forward, carefully descending each stair, fighting not to topple.

Erith heard boats groaning in the current of the Caelor, cold air brushing his skin, until a familiar voice cut through.

“Moons!”

“Tal?”

Hands seized him, pulling him forward. “Get him on the boat. Now. We need to go.”

“Maeric… Rin…” Erith muttered.

“They’ll meet us, Erith. But so will an army if we don’t move.”

“Maeric…” his voice was thin, fading.

Weightlessness washed through him.

Shouts rang from far away, growing fainter.

In the blackness of his mind, a figure appeared—red hair burning against the dark, smiling, hand outstretched.

He reached for it, the same hand he had taken once beneath the silver oaks.

And he held on.

✦☽✧❖⨁☼✺☼⨁❖✧☽✦