CHAPTER FOUR: THE WEIGHT OF RETURN (Part two)
The spiral faded as the fog cleared.
Selka pulled her hand away from the glass, but her eyes didn't follow.
She wasn't watching the rain anymore.
She was listening to it.
Zephryn sat down at last.
Not in defeat.
Not in comfort.
In decision.
The celestol pendant lay against his chest like a seal that hadn't been broken.
His hand hovered over the memory slip again. He didn't touch it—just let his fingers float above it like it might burn.
Bubbalor made a sound.
Not a hum.
A shift.
A tiny chime-like note, like glass struck from within.
Kaelen stood, paced once across the room, then stopped near the corner where the resonance charts were pinned. He stared at them, jaw tight.
"They're going to test us hard," he said finally.
Yolti rolled onto her side. "You think it'll be worse than last year?"
Kaelen nodded. "Yeah. Because last year… Zephryn wasn't here."
That name did something to the room.
Not because it was spoken.
But because of what it meant now.
Selka turned slightly.
Yolti sat up again, slower this time.
Zephryn looked at the floor.
"I didn't ask for this," he said. "The glyph… the pendant… the king's voice in my head like I'm some kind of answer."
Kaelen stepped closer, voice firmer now.
"You didn't ask for any of it."
Zephryn looked up at him. "Then why give it to me?"
Yolti answered instead, quiet but unflinching.
"Because the world doesn't give things to people. It remembers them."
Silence again.
Then Selka whispered—so low only Bubbalor seemed to hear it.
"And some people… carry what the world forgot."
Zephryn rose.
He walked to the window.
The rain wasn't heavy. Just steady. Just real.
He reached into his pocket and pulled the key the king gave him.
Held it up to the light.
The shape caught the window's reflection.
For a second, it looked like it was carved from lightning.