Sai's crooked smile faded faster than he intended.
Because Aanha wasn't smiling.
She stood still, fingers tightening around her pendant. Her eyes weren't frightened…
They were heavy.
Granny noticed immediately.
Granny (softening): "What is it, child?"
Aanha hesitated.
After everything she had seen — flames, shadows, impossible visions —
Her voice now was small.
Aanha (quietly): "Mumma…"
Sai's expression shifted at once.
The teasing ease vanished.
Aanha swallowed, guilt creeping into every word.
Aanha: "I left that night without saying anything. She must've woken up and found my room empty… she must've…"
Her breath hitched.
Images rushed in — her mother at the doorway, calling her name.
Confusion turning into worry.
Aanha (trembling): "She doesn't even know where I am."
The pendant pulsed faster.
Not to danger.
…but emotion.
Warmth flickered along her arms.
Sai stepped forward quickly.
Sai: "Easy—"
But Granny gently raised a hand.
Stopping him.
Granny (calm): "Let it move."
The glow wavered — not erupting, just trembling like a candle caught between stillness and storm.
Granny approached slowly.
Granny: "Your mother is not alone in uncertainty, Aanha."
Aanha looked up, eyes glassy.
Aanha: "But she doesn't know anything… about any of this…"
Granny placed both hands around Aanha's trembling ones.
Grounding.
Ancient.
Unshaken.
Granny (steady): "The veil Sai cast around your room still lingers in memory. To her senses, nothing felt wrong… at first."
Sai nodded quietly.
Sai: "But it will fade with time. It was never meant to last long."
Aanha exhaled shakily.
Relief tangled with fresh guilt.
Aanha: "I hate hiding from her…"
Granny's gaze softened — sadness flickering briefly.
Granny: "Some truths remain silent… until the one who carries them can bear their weight."
The warmth around Aanha slowly stabilized.
No sparks.
Only a quiet, aching glow.
Near the Barrier
Sai crouched near the black stone sigil.
The air around it felt…
Wrong.
Not hostile.
Just deep.
Sai (muttering): "Still resonating…"
Granny stepped beside him.
Granny: "Don't touch it."
Sai gave a faint huff.
Sai: "…Wasn't planning to."
The sigil pulsed once.
Aanha gasped.
Her pendant answered with a sharp thrum.
Aanha: "It's reacting again…"
Granny turned sharply. A knowing look.
Granny (low): "Of course it is."
Sai straightened slowly.
Sai: "You know what that is."
Granny didn't reply immediately. Which was answer enough.
Granny (grave): "That is not a mark of pursuit."
Aanha: "…Then what?"
Granny: "A mark of remembrance."
The wind stilled.
Sai's aura tightened.
Granny (lower): "Something — or someone — is trying to wake what was sealed within you."
Aanha's heartbeat thundered.
Fragments of dreams.
Fire.
That whisper: Remember.
Sai's jaw clenched.
Sai: "So this wasn't just a warning."
Granny: "No."
Her gaze drifted toward the mist-heavy woods.
Granny (grim): "It was an invitation."
Aanha stood frozen.
Between questions.
Between fear.
Between the life she knew…and something calling from beyond it.
But Aanha barely heard it. Her thoughts had spiraled elsewhere.
Toward a hospital corridor.
Toward her mother.
Aanha (distant): "She must have skipped dinner that night…"
Sai looked back.
Sai: "What?"
Aanha: "She had a late shift. Said she'd heat the food when she got home…"
A tremor in her voice.
Aanha: "I left before she returned."
Silence wrapped around them.
Aanha (barely whispering): "She must've come home to an empty room…"
Sai stepped closer, voice gentler.
Sai: "Aanha… leaving protected her."
Aanha: "She doesn't even know from what!"
Granny moved toward her slowly.
Not as a guardian.
But as someone who had watched this girl grow.
Granny (soft): "Your mother's heart is stronger than you think."
Aanha's voice cracked.
Aanha:"She's totally unknown, Granny. No barriers. No protection. No idea her daughter vanished into…"
The words fell like fragile truth.
Her breath hitched.
Aanha: "…this."
Granny's eyes flickered.
Pain.
Memory.
Secrets.
She lifted Aanha's chin gently.
Granny (firm, warm): "It makes you a daughter who chose protection over comfort."
Aanha's lips trembled.
Granny (softly): "That woman loves you with a devotion many bloodlines never achieve."
Sai's eyes flicked sharply to Granny. He was worried, for Aanha not ready to know the truth yet and granny knew it much better herself too.
But Aanha only whispered:
Aanha: "…I know she loves me."
Tears finally fell.
The pendant warmed.
Deeply.
Granny brushed her cheek.
Granny (very soft): "So she does… now calm down and come..."
The Seeing Bowl
Curtains drawn.
Lights dimmed.
At the center: a shallow stone bowl shimmering silver.
Aanha: "what's this?"
Granny: "through which we can see through... our loved ones"
Aanha (softly): "…Since when you had this?"
Granny: "Since long before you were born."
She placed beside it:
• Pale blue ash
• Moonleaf
• Aanha's pendant
Aanha: "Why my pendant?"
Granny: "Because it has stayed near your heart and it feeds on your feelings. Keep it in your touch."
Granny mutters the spells softly.
Sai noticed the wording. It was higher magic afterall.
Said nothing.
Vision — Hospital
White hallway.
Fluorescent lights.
Her mother.
Alive.
But frozen.
Staring at her phone.
Sai whispered:
Sai: "…The veil's gone."
In the vision, her lips formed silent words:"…Aanha?"
Then urgency.
Searching.
Asking.
Aanha (breaking): "She knows…"
Then —
A pause.
Her mother pressed a hand to her chest.
Eyes closing briefly.
Granny's gaze sharpened.
But—
The vision distorted.
Dark ripples.
Granny slammed golden light into the bowl.
Stabilizing.
Final whisper: "…Where are you, Aanha?"
The bowl fell still.
Aftermath
Aanha (shaken): "She's scared…"
Sai: "The Veil of Stillness only delayed awareness."
Aanha (turning): "You knew?!"
Sai: "It was the only way to get you out safely!"
Granny (firm): "Enough."
She stepped closer.
Granny: "You will speak to her…"
Hope flared.
Sai stiffened.
Granny (finishing): "…when doing so no longer places her in danger."
Painful silence.
Aanha rushed to her room finding her phone.
Aanha: ''ugh.. where did it go?"
Sai: "…Your phone..."
Memory hit.
Left behind.
Aanha (whispering): "I left it…"
Sai rubbed the back of his neck.
Sai: "We didn't exactly have time to pack."
But panic had already taken root.
Aanha: "then give me yours..."
Sai: "Aanha... its not the right time... and we are out of network area"
Aanha turned sharply.
Aanha: "Granny — please. Anything."
Granny hesitated only a moment before reaching into her shawl.
She withdrew the small rune-lined communicator.
Ancient symbols glowed faintly along its edges.
Granny (quietly): "This device does not dial numbers…"
She placed it in Aanha's trembling hands.
"…It answers bonds."
Sai's gaze sharpened.
Because he knew what that meant.
Granny: "Only once."
Aanha nodded quickly.
Too desperate to question.
The Whisper
She closed her eyes.
Tears still clinging to her lashes.
Her voice cracked softly:
Aanha (whispering): "…mumma…"
The rune beneath her thumb ignited.
Golden light flowed across the device.
The air shifted.
Deepened.
Then—
The Wrong Connection
Not ringing.
Not static.
But silence.
Heavy.
Alive.
Aanha frowned.
Aanha: "Why isn't it—"
A voice answered.
Soft.
Distant.
Layered with something that didn't belong to this world.
Unknown Voice (whispered, aching): "…Aanha…"
The temperature dropped.
Sai's head snapped up.
Granny's eyes widened.
Aanha's breath caught.
Because—
The voice sounded…
Warm.
Broken.
Intimate.
Unknown Voice: "My Ember Vein…"
The pendant flared violently.
Aanha gasped.
Aanha: "W-who—?"
Sai's expression darkened instantly.
Sai: "Granny—"
Granny moved like lightning.
Granny Intervenes
Her hand struck the device.
Not harsh.
But urgent.
She tore it from Aanha's grip.
Golden energy surged through her palm.
Granny (sharp, commanding): "Not you."
The glow flickered wildly.
The voice distorted.
Stretching.
Resisting.
Unknown Voice (fading):"…Aanha…"
Granny's aura blazed.
And the link—
Severed.
Silence crashed down.
Aanha stared.
Heart racing.
Aanha (shaken): "That… that wasn't Mumma…"
Sai stepped forward slowly.
Jaw tight.
Sai: "No…"
But Granny wasn't listening.
She stared at the now-dark device. Her fingers trembling almost imperceptibly. Because she knew that voice. Even after eighteen years.
Granny inhaled slowly. Steadying herself.
Then pressed a different rune.
Granny (low, focused): "Guide the bond."
She handed the device back.
Aanha's hands shook harder now.
Aanha: "Granny… what was that?"
The room fell into a thick, breathless quiet.
Aanha stood frozen.
Confusion. Fear. A strange unease she couldn't name.
Her voice trembled.
Aanha (softly): "Why… why did it connect like that?"
Sai didn't answer immediately.
Because he didn't have one that wouldn't raise more questions.
Granny stepped forward instead, her expression calm but firm.
Granny: "Resonance devices follow emotion, child… not intention."
She gently took the communicator from Aanha's hands.
Granny (softer): "Sometimes longing touches echoes we do not expect."
Aanha's fingers curled slowly against her chest.
Against the pendant.
Still warm.
Still restless.
Aanha (whispering): "…Did Mumma feel it?"
Sai's jaw tightened.
He chose honesty — but not cruelty.
Sai: "If there was a disturbance… she might have."
That was enough.
Pain flickered across Aanha's face.
Not explosive.
Just heavy.
Parallel — Hospital
The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly.
Aanha's mother stood near the corridor window, phone clutched tightly in her hand.
Call logs.
Unread messages.
Nothing.
Her heartbeat refused to slow.
She tapped a contact.
Mom: "Mika?"
A sleepy, confused voice answered.
Mika:"Aunty? Is everything okay?"
Mom (trying to stay calm):"Have you seen Aanha?"
A pause.
Then—
Mika: "No… she hasn't come to school."
The words landed like a crack through glass.
Mom:"She told me she had classes…"
Mika:"She's been absent two days."
Silence.
Cold.
Wrong.
Mom's grip tightened.
Another call.
Mom: "Yun?"
Background noise. Traffic. Voices.
Yun:"Aunty? Hi!"
Mom:"Is Aanha with you?"
Yun (concern rising):"No… I thought she was home."
Mom's breath hitched.
Mom:"She didn't come to college either?"
Yun:"No… we thought she was sick…"
That word.
Sick.
Mom pressed a trembling hand to her forehead.
Back — Granny's House
Aanha sat slowly on the edge of the sofa.
As if something invisible had drained her strength.
Aanha (barely audible):"She must be worried…"
Sai looked at her.
Really looked.
Not the awakened elemental.
Not the storm-in-making.
Just—
A girl missing her mother.
Granny approached quietly.
Sat beside her.
Placed a steady hand over Aanha's clenched fists.
Granny (soft):"Worry is born from love."
Aanha's eyes shimmered.
Granny's voice remained calm.
Grounding.
Granny:"Then let that love become your strength — not your fear."
Aanha swallowed.
Nodded faintly.
Her fingers tightened around the pendant.
Not in panic this time.
But resolve.
Fragile.
Forming.
Outside—
Beyond the golden wards.
Mist curled between the silent trees.
Slow.
Patient.
As if something unseen had listened…
…and was waiting.