Three days passed.
The creature didn't return. But Varyan knew it was still there. Waiting.
He slept in shifts. Carried his dagger everywhere. Avoided the library.
And he read his mother's journal until he had morized every word.
*"The Order fragnt chooses a bearer when the bloodline is at its lowest. It is both a curse and a gift. The bearer gains power, but also becos a target."*
*"There are others like us. Most are not allies. Trust no one until they have bled for you."*
On the fourth night, Varyan sat in the servant's passage, eating stale bread.
[Order fragnt detected – 30 feet. North.]
He froze.
Soone else. A fragnt-bearer. In the passage with him.
A girl stepped out of the shadows. Maybe thirteen. Silver hair. Mismatched eyes—one blue, one gold.
She was holding a book about dragon anatomy. She looked bored.
But her left hand trembled. And when she glanced at Varyan, her pupils dilated—*she knew*.
She mouthed two words:
*"Not here."*
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