A steady drizzle fell on the rooftops of Langley, wrapping the city in a cool silver mist. The streets bustled with activity. Covered wagons rolled through the gates, merchants traded coins under tarps, and a fresh shipment of raw iron arrived from the southern border, marked with Langley's trade seal.
Inside the academy's west wing, the smell of warm paper and chemical oils filled the recently restored laboratory halls. Dozens of scholars and engineers bent over diagrams and rune-etched plates, whispering and sharing calculations with urgency. The once-abandoned facility now buzzed with energy; its revitalization was one of Selene Cromwell's proudest accomplishments.
She arrived just after dawn, despite Elias's warning to get some rest.
"Good morning, Lady Cromwell," a thin scholar with soot-stained gloves said, bowing as she entered. "You're here earlier than expected."
"I couldn't sleep," she replied smoothly. "I wanted to check on the prototype."
They guided her to a long table filled with disassembled parts—metal rings, aura channeling rods, and copper sheets marked with runes. The centerpiece was an attempt to rebuild one of Langley's most complex relics—an aura condenser, a device that once stored and redirected aura as energy.
"We've hit a wall," said one of the professors. "The conduits overload as soon as the initial transfer starts. We've checked the inscriptions three times."
Selene stepped closer, hands clasped behind her back. "Show me the schematic."
A scroll was spread out before her. She examined it, quiet for a moment.
Then she picked up a piece of chalk and crossed out three markings along the main rune path.
"These channels are symmetrical," she said. "But the flow isn't. You've copied a stabilizing runic array from the original blueprint without considering modern aura compression rates. This difference will cause a build-up in the secondary node."
The room fell silent.
"You'll need to offset it here and here," she continued, circling the flawed channels. "Then add a diffusing rune between the feedback lines. It'll bleed excess aura into the outer shell of the condenser instead of overloading the coil."
The engineers looked stunned.
"I… We never thought to add a vented delay rune to a condenser model," one murmured.
"It would need a triple-layered inscription," another said, "but… yes. It could work."
Selene smiled faintly. "Then do it."
She turned to leave but paused as the head scholar approached. "Lady Cromwell," he said. "How did you figure that out so quickly?"
Selene hesitated.
"I don't know," she replied honestly. "It just made sense."
That evening, she sat alone in her chambers, fingers steepled beneath her chin. Her desk was covered in scattered notes, glyph translations, and trade documents. She had resolved half a dozen logistical mistakes and even corrected a scholar's thesis draft—all in a few minutes. Her thoughts had never felt clearer.
But it wasn't normal.
Every sound was sharper. Her eyes picked up movements across the courtyard. Entire mathematical systems formed in her mind as soon as she looked at them. Conversations played back in perfect clarity, as if recorded.
It was thrilling.
And unsettling.
Was this development? Or something else?
She opened a book—a technical manual on aura theory—and read its fifty pages in one sitting without pausing. When she stood to stretch, the candlelight seemed to bend in odd ways. Her shadow on the wall stretched strangely, just for a moment.
She shook her head and stepped onto the balcony for some air.
The night was cool. Distant laughter echoed from below. She looked down and saw scholars drinking outside a tavern, engaging in lively debates. The lanterns' light flickered across their faces.
Selene narrowed her eyes slightly. She could read their lips from four stories up.
"…She's frightening, really," one of them laughed. "Like her mind's made of glass and fire."
Selene leaned against the stone, eyes on the stars.
The people of Langley respected her now. Progress felt real. The academy was thriving once more. Trade routes were open, and construction had started on a second school branch for lower-tier students.
Yet in her chest, beneath the pride, something stirred. Something hot. Heavy.
Her aura.
It didn't hurt. It didn't claw like it used to.
It waited.
She closed her eyes.
In that stillness, she realized she could hear the heartbeat of every flame in every lantern in the square.
She smiled to herself, then went back inside.
Langley would grow.
And she would lead it with a mind sharper than ever before.