Mozrael woke slowly, the way soone might surface from deep water. Warmth pressed against her cheek, and the faint, rhythmic motion of a hand stroking her hair pulled her the rest of the way into consciousness.
Her eyes opened to the dim, flickering orange of firelight. She was lying with her head in Aramith’s lap. His hand moved through her hair in slow, absent motions, but the lines at the corners of his eyes betrayed his worry.
"...Moz?" His voice was soft but taut.
She blinked, the blanket of night tilting faintly in her vision. "Aramith...?" She didn’t rember the last ti he called her that.
Relief loosened sothing in his face, but his hand didn’t stop moving. "You’re awake. Good."
Her brow furrowed as she pushed herself up slightly, then winced and pressed a palm to her temple. "I... What happened to ?"
"You don’t rember?"
She shook her head, the motion making her headache throb. "Only... pieces. Pain. And everything was so..." She stopped abruptly, as if rembering sothing unpleasant. "—so loud. Too bright. Like I could hear every drop of water, every crack in the stone. But now..." She trailed off, touching her ears. "It’s gone."
"That’s because I locked those senses for now," Lynnor’s voice ca from across the fire. She was crouched, tending to the embers. "If I left them open, you’d risk losing yourself again. When the sun rises, I’ll start teaching you to tap into your power without frying your brain in the process."
Mozrael sat up fully, her blanket sliding down her shoulders—and froze. Blue and gold markings coiled faintly along her skin, shifting like sothing alive beneath the surface. She touched them tentatively, and a strange sensation prickled through her fingers.
It felt like cool silk sliding under her skin, and yet also like a hum that she could hear in her bones.
Her heart stuttered. "What... is this?"
"Your power showing itself," Lynnor said without looking up. "Don’t panic. It’s not dangerous unless you try to use it. And you’re not going to use it until I say otherwise."
Mozrael’s gaze flicked toward Aramith, catching the faint shadow in his eyes—there and gone again. "Are you... afraid of now?" She’d always tried her best eevr since they were very young so he didn’t see her power manifest often. It always caused her so much pain. Pain she was afraid to show. She always felt vulnerable and afraid.
Not just afraid of the pain it caused her, but of the way it made people look at her. They always backed away when she transford.
Aramith’s head snapped toward her, startled. "What? No—"
"You flinched," she said quietly.
Aramith exhaled and looked down at his trembling hands. He clenched them to keep them still. "...It’s not you I’m afraid of, Moz. It’s losing you. That’s what scared . I...don’t think I’ll forgive myself for not being able to help."
Sothing in her chest eased at that, but her fingers still traced the glowing lines on her arm. "It feels... strange. Like it’s inside , moving."
"That’s because it is," Lynnor said, finally standing and dusting her hands. "You’ve got a well of energy bigger than most people will see in their lifetis. Problem is, right now, it’s like you’re trying to carry a river in your bare hands. It’s ssy, exhausting, and pointless. I’ll teach you to shape the flow so it doesn’t rip you apart."
Mozrael hesitated. "Will this... affect going to the academy?"
Aramith’s head turned sharply toward Lynnor, his own worry plain. They’d avoided most public attention back ho, knowing any odd display of power would draw dangerous eyes.
But Lynnor only gave a faint, crooked smile. "It’ll work out. I’ll make sure of it."
Mozrael wasn’t so easily convinced. She looked down at herself—the living patterns coiling further over her skin, marking her like a tapestry she couldn’t fold away. A soft, alien tingling pulsed along each line, like they were breathing with her. The sensation was equal parts srizing and unsettling.
"I can’t hide this," she murmured.
Lynnor crouched beside her, eting her eyes. "You won’t have to. By the ti I’m done with you, people won’t be staring at the marks—they’ll be staring at the girl who knows how to use them."
Mozrael didn’t know whether that made her feel better or worse. It sounded like Lynnor wasn’t confident they could be hidden. But Aramith’s hand brushed hers under the blanket, and for now, that was enough to keep the fear from swallowing her whole.
The sound of Lynnor’s footsteps faded deeper into the forest, leaving only the fire’s low crackle between them.
Mozrael shifted slightly, drawing the blanket closer around her shoulders. Aramith sat just beside her, his posture loose but his gaze still scanning her face like he was afraid she might vanish if he looked away too long.
"You’re staring," she said after a mont, her voice soft but carrying a faint teasing edge.
He blinked, caught. "...Making sure you’re still breathing."
Mozrael’s lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. "I’m not that fragile."
"After what happened earlier?" His brows knit. "You scared , Moz. I’ve never seen you like that."
She glanced down at her hands, fingers curling slightly. "I’ve never felt like that before."
The silence stretched, thick with all the things neither of them could na.
Finally, she broke it. "...If I lose control again—"
"You won’t." His tone was firm enough to cut through her thoughts.
She looked up at him, searching his face. "You sound certain."
"I am." His mouth softened into sothing almost like a smile. "Because Lynnor’s going to train you. And because you’ve never once let sothing beat you."
A lie, but a good one.
Her gaze lingered on him, warm and uncertain all at once. "Still. You’re not afraid of ?"
His eyes t hers, steady. "Moz... the only thing I’m afraid of is not being able to protect you. It’s only the two of us now."
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, her throat tight. "...You always say things like that when you want to stop worrying."
He huffed a quiet laugh. "Because that’s what my mind tells to do, and also, it works."
She glanced down at the faintly glowing lines on her skin, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I didn’t ask for this."
"I know," he said quietly. "But it’s yours now. And... maybe it’ll turn out to be more of a gift than a curse."
She didn’t answer right away, but the corner of her mouth lifted the tiniest bit as she leaned against his shoulder, letting the warmth from both him and the fire settle into her bones.
They stayed like that for a while, Mozrael leaning into him, her breathing evening out as the warmth and his quiet presence settled her thoughts.
The soft shuffle of footsteps broke the mont. Lynnor erged from the darkness, arms folded loosely, her expression unreadable as her eyes flicked between them.
"Good. You’re awake and not screaming." Her tone was matter-of-fact, but there was the barest upward curve at the corner of her mouth.
Mozrael straightened, pulling the blanket tighter. "I feel... different."
"You are different," Lynnor replied simply, stepping closer. "And that’s exactly why we’re going to make sure you don’t lose control again."
She crouched down to et Mozrael’s eye level. "But not tonight. You need rest. And before training tomorrow, you’ll take a warm soak in the spring. Let the heat loosen you up, steady your breathing, and get your head calm. You’ll need that for what cos next."
Mozrael hesitated, glancing toward the short path that led to the water. "Won’t it... happen again?"
"No." Lynnor’s voice carried quiet authority. "I’ve sealed off the parts of your power that would overload you. For now, you couldn’t burn a tree down even if you tried."
That earned the faintest ghost of a smile from Mozrael, though her eyes dropped to the faintly glowing marks still curling along her forearms.
Aramith caught the shift in her expression. "She knows what she’s doing," he said gently. "You’ll be fine."
Mozrael gave a small nod, but her fingers still brushed the glowing lines as if checking they were real.
Lynnor straightened, brushing imaginary dust off her palms. "Good. Then tomorrow, after you’ve had your bath, I’ll start teaching you how to touch your power without drowning in it."
Her gaze shifted to Aramith, and one eyebrow rose. "And you’ll be cultivating. Not gawking. I don’t care if you’re siblings. If you sit there staring at her while she’s in the spring, I’m pushing you headfirst."
Aramith opened his mouth to retort, but Lynnor cut him off with a faint smirk. "But... It’s good that you care for her."
The remark caught him off guard, and for a mont, he didn’t know what to say. He only managed a small, crooked smile, shaking his head.
Lynnor turned away, clearly done with sentint for the night. "Alright. Both of you get so sleep. Tomorrow will be long."
Aramith stayed by Mozrael’s side until her breathing slowed and her eyes closed again, his hand lightly brushing through her hair. He told himself it was just to comfort her, but once again, the quiet words he murmured — You’ll be fine — were more for himself than for her.
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