The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Jamie sat on the polished wooden floor, legs stretched out in front of her, back against the wall. The faint glow of lantern light cast long shadows across the room—shadows that seemed just a little too still, just a little too deliberate.
She didn't look up when Gyan spoke.
"Did you truly believe," Gyan's voice was calm, measured, "that you had escaped me?"
"I did escape," she muttered, wiping at the corner of her lip where dried blood had crusted. "Got out the door, didn't I?"
A pause.
Then—
A soft exhale.
Gyan shook her head.
"You got out because I allowed it."
"What?"
Gyan stepped forward, her presence quiet—but heavy.
"You would not have listened to a simple explanation," she continued. "So I allowed you to go. To see. To experience."
Jamie frowned, pushing herself up onto her feet.
"Well, I saw," she said, brushing dust from her clothes. "Next time I'll just be more careful."
She moved to walk past her— Gyan's hand closed around her arm.
Firm.
Unyielding.
"There won't be a next time."
Jamie's eyes narrowed.
Her Anti-Flow surged instinctively—sharp, reactive. She twisted, pushing her energy outward the same way she had when breaking free from the thug earlier that night.
It did nothing.
Gyan didn't even blink.
Instead—
She moved.
A flick of her wrist.
Jamie was thrown forward like she weighed nothing, her feet leaving the ground as she crashed onto the floor several paces away.
She hit hard, breath knocked out of her lungs.
"Unrefined," Gyan said, almost dismissively. "Such crude control of energy will not take you far."
Jamie pushed herself up, coughing.
"I survived, didn't I?"
"You were lucky."
Gyan's gaze dropped to Jamie's wrist—the laurel wreath bracelet, SK's gift, its golden leaves catching the dim light.
Jamie scowled.
"Same thing."
"No," Gyan replied evenly.
"It is not."
She stepped closer.
"What happens when you are not wearing that luck?" she asked, nodding slightly toward the bracelet.
"What happens when you find yourself in a scenario where luck does not apply?"
"It'll be fine."
"No." Gyan's voice was sharp. "It won't be fine."
She stepped closer. The room seemed to grow colder. Jamie frowned, irritation flaring.
"You don't know that."
Gyan's eyes rested on her.
Calm.
Unreadable.
"I know enough."
A pause.
Then—
"I heard," Gyan continued, her tone unchanged, "that your father died in the recent attack on Blackhaven."
Jamie stiffened.
"I met him once," Gyan added. "He seemed like a good man."
Jamie's hands clenched at her sides.
"He was," she said quietly.
Gyan tilted her head slightly.
"Too good," she said. "Good enough that he would not raise his only child to be reckless all in the name of what, fun? Puberty would be hell for any parent who has to raise you. From that angle its good he died early."
Jamie's head snapped up.
"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!"
"You're right. My mother killed my father before I was born. I never knew him."
Jamie blinked.
"But that's beside the point. The point being that," Her eyes hardened.
"If you continue as you ar on this path, you will die."
"Who are you to lecture me?" she shot back. "You're not my papa!"
Gyan stepped forward and the shadows surged.
They rose from the floor like a rising tide, wrapping around the walls, pooling at the edges of the room, stretching toward Jamie like something alive. Gyan's eyes gleamed—not with light, but with something deeper. A crimson glow that seemed to come from within.
"I may not be your father," she said, her voice still calm—but heavier now.
"But I am your guardian."
The words pressed against the room like a physical weight.
"In the coming days, Lord Alaric will be very busy. So busy that you may not see him again until everything is settled." She stepped closer. "The responsibility of guarding his wards falls to me. And I will not have you undermine my work with your absurdity."
Jamie didn't step back, didn't flinch. Cold vapor began to rise from her skin.Faint at first—
Then stronger.
The wooden floor beneath her feet creaked softly as frost spread outward in thin, jagged patterns.
The shadows and the snow met in the space between them—two forces, neither yielding.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Gyan sighed and withdrew.
The shadows receded.
She turned toward the stairs.
"I will inform Lord Alaric of your outing."
Jamie blinked.
"What?"
"I used my shadows to hinder his senses while you were gone, to see how you would behave outside." She paused.
"Now I will make him aware of the developments and see what he thinks."
Jamie's defiance crumbled instantly.
"Wait—!"
Jamie scrambled foward.
"Don't tell him!"
Gyan paused halfway up the stairs.
"Please," Jamie said again. "I'll do anything."
The shadows surged. Gyan's eyes glowed crimson as she turned her head slightly.
"Anything?"
Jamie swallowed.
"Y-yes."
Gyan turned. She walked back down the stairs. Slowly. Deliberately.Then she stopped in front of Jamie.
Then—
Knelt.
And hugged her.
Jamie froze.
Gyan's arms wrapped around her—not tight, not forceful—just… firm.
"You must promise me," Gyan said quietly, her voice softer now, "that you will not act recklessly again."
Jamie blinked.
"Huh?"
"The capital is not Blackhaven," Gyan continued. "Lord Alaric is doing all he can to stabilize the kingdom, but his reach does not extend everywhere yet."
Her grip tightened slightly.
"You will not do anything foolish until it does."
Jamie hesitated.
Her jaw tightened.
"…fine."
"Say it properly."
"I promise," she muttered.
Gyan pulled back.She studied teh girl for a moment then stood.
"Good," she said.
Jamie turned and was about to walk away when Gyan placed a hand on her shoulder. Her grip tightened.
"So," she said, her voice light now, almost conversational, "about that 'anything' you were willing to do..."
Morning came quietly.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, soft and warm.
Elias stirred.
His eyes opened slowly, the remnants of the previous night still lingering at the edges of his thoughts. He lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling, then sat up.
His head felt… heavy.
Not physically.
Just—
Occupied.
"I need materials…" he muttered. "If I'm going to prepare anything…"
He swung his legs off the bed.
"…I should ask Gyan to take me to the market."
A sound reached him.
Soft.
Rhythmic.
Scrubbing.
Elias paused.
"Huh?"
He stood, walked to the door, and opened it. Then paused, unsure of how to react.
In the middle of the hallway, on her hands and knees, scrubbing a section was Jamie.
She wore a maid's uniform.
White apron. Black dress. A small cap perched on her indigo hair.
Elias stared.
Slowly, he leaned out slightly.
Looked left.
Spotless.
Looked right.
Spotless.
He closed the door.
Opened it again.
Same scene.
"I must be hallucinating." Elias said closing his eyes and pinching his nose.
Jamie didn't look up.
"I can hear you."
Elias stepped out, staring.
"I never thought I'd see the day..."
Jamie paused mid-scrub.
"Say it and I'll hit you."
He crouched, examining her.
"You're actually acting like a girl your age."
She looked up. Deadpan.
"This is forced labor."
"What's with the outfit?"
"Gyan made me wear it."
Elias nodded once then gave her a thumbs up.
"Nice.Keep up the good work."
Jamie stared at him.
"You're the worst."
Elias straightened—
Then paused.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Dark circlesbeneath her eyes. She hadn't slept. And beneath the uniform, the bruises were still visible. Her split lip had healed, but the discoloration remained.
"Hey, what happened to you?"
Jamie looked away.
"N-nothing."
Elias's gaze sharpened.
"Gyan?"
"I know what you are thinking," she said calmly.
Elias turned slightly.
"And you would be wrong."
Gyan stood in the doorway, arms folded, her expression unreadable. The shadows at her feet did not move.
She stepped closer, leaning in and whispering something into his ear.
Elias froze, his eyes widened.
Slowly—he turned.
Looked at Jamie.
His expression darkened.
Jamie visibly flinched.
"It's not that bad," she muttered nervously, looking anywhere but at him.
Her eyes dropped.
"Why are your pants wet?"
Silence.
Elias looked down.
Then back at her.
No expression.
Jamie forced a grin.
"You…you wet the bed?"
Nothing.
"Wow, that's crazy—"
He grabbed her arm and pulled her into his room.
Gyan watched.
A small smile played at the corner of her lips.
'Maybe Elias will hammer some sense into that hard head of hers,' she thought as she turned and walked away.
'He is her only friend, after all.'