For the first time in days, Zerrei stood without collapsing.
Not confidently.
Not steadily.
But he stood.
Feet planted in the soft dirt of the clearing, shoulders trembling, glow pulsing in slow, rhythmic waves as if rediscovering balance.
Lyra held both his hands to keep him from swaying.
His fingers—delicately carved, faintly warm from resonance bloom—curled around hers carefully, like he feared squeezing too hard.
"Zerrei? How do you feel?"
He looked down at their hands.
His carved brows knit together, runes glowing softly.
"…warm."
Arden laughed quietly.
"Everything feels warm to him when you're involved."
Zerrei blinked at Arden.
"…Lyra warm."
Arden pointed at Lyra.
"Exactly."
Zerrei frowned slightly.
"…Arden… far."
Arden groaned.
"Why am I ALWAYS getting pushed away?!"
Oren didn't look up from his runic diagrams.
"Because you trigger Zerrei's territorial instincts."
Arden sputtered.
"Territorial—?! I'm not even flirting!"
Oren shrugged.
"In Zerrei's mind, you stand too close to his anchor."
Lyra flushed.
"Zerrei… is that true?"
Zerrei looked at their hands—interlaced—and then at Lyra's face.
He hesitated.
Then nodded shyly.
"…Lyra… mine…"
Arden threw his hands into the air.
"He's doing it again!"
Lyra gently squeezed Zerrei's hands.
"Zerrei… we talked about this."
His glow dimmed nervously.
"…don't say…?"
She smiled kindly.
"No. You can say it—just not when you're scared."
He blinked.
"…only… when… happy?"
"Exactly."
He thought for a moment.
Then his glow warmed.
"…Lyra mine…"
Soft.
Not panicked.
Not desperate.
Just warm.
Gentle.
Arden covered his heart.
"Okay… that was actually… adorable. I hate it."
Oren muttered:
"As expected."
ZERRI'S NEW BALANCE
Zerrei squeezed Lyra's hands again.
"…Lyra… walk…?"
She smiled.
"You want to try walking?"
He nodded slowly.
"…yes… but… hold Lyra…"
"Of course."
Step by step, Zerrei walked with her.
Slow.
Delicate.
Like someone learning how legs were supposed to move.
Every few steps he stumbled—and Lyra caught him.
Every time she touched him, his glow brightened.
Arden whispered to Oren:
"He looks like a toddler taking their first steps."
Oren nodded.
"Emotionally, that's not far from the truth."
Zerrei's ears flicked (or the carved equivalent).
"…not toddler…"
Lyra giggled.
"Zerrei, you're doing great."
He looked down at their hands again, mesmerized.
"…Lyra… hold Zerrei…"
"Yes."
His voice softened like a quiet confession.
"…Zerrei… happy…"
Lyra's heart twisted warmly.
She squeezed his hands.
"I'm happy too."
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead lightly against hers.
Emotion surged through the resonance bond like a spark of gold.
"…Lyra…"
"Yes?"
"…Zerrei want… stay like this…"
She smiled softly.
"We will."
OREN INTERRUPTS THE MOMENT
Oren cleared his throat loudly.
"Lyra. Zerrei. As touching as this is—we have work."
Lyra sighed.
Arden muttered:
"You have the worst timing."
Oren ignored them.
"We must prepare to leave Arnvale.
Zerrei's evolution bloom stabilized him—
but also released a beacon."
Lyra's eyes widened.
"…a beacon?"
Zerrei tensed.
"…beacon…?"
Oren nodded grimly.
"Vessel Four felt it."
Zerrei nearly dropped to his knees.
Lyra caught him before he fell.
"Easy—easy—!"
Zerrei clung to her desperately.
"…no… no… no… they feel… Zerrei…"
His glow flickered with panic.
"…Lyra… hide… hide Zerrei…!"
"No—no, look at me—look at me—"
She lifted his chin gently, forcing him to meet her eyes.
"You're not alone."
He trembled violently.
"…Lyra…"
She touched her forehead to his.
"We're together. You're safe with me."
He nodded shakily, burying his face in her shoulder.
Oren lowered his voice.
"This is why we must act quickly."
Arden sheathed his sword.
"So what's the plan?"
Oren pointed toward the trees.
"We escort Lyra and Zerrei to Eastpoint Crossing. Reinforcements await us there. The guild will help us gather supplies."
Arden huffed.
"Then let's move."
A NEW INSTINCT EMERGES
As Lyra prepared their things, Zerrei stayed close—so close his hand never once left hers.
But something strange happened.
While Lyra bent down to pick something up—
Zerrei suddenly stepped in front of her.
Blocking her.
Arden blinked.
"Uh… kid?"
Zerrei stared into the trees, eyes sharp—almost predatory.
"…something… there…"
Lyra stood up.
"What do you feel?"
Zerrei's glow flickered.
"…cold…"
Arden unsheathed his sword instantly.
"Cold like… winter?"
Zerrei shook his head.
"…cold like… Master…"
Oren froze.
"…the Creator's signature."
Zerrei nodded, trembling slightly.
"…not him…
but close…
like… piece…"
Lyra realized instantly.
"A vessel."
Zerrei clutched her hand tighter.
"…they close…"
Arden cursed.
"Well. Great. Vessel Four's early."
Oren closed his notebook sharply.
"No. Vessel Four is clever.
It won't attack outright."
Arden frowned.
"Then what's it doing?"
Oren inhaled slowly.
"…Watching."
Zerrei whimpered under his breath.
"…Lyra… hold Zerrei…"
She wrapped her arms around him.
"Always."
He pressed his forehead into her shoulder.
"…Lyra…
stay with Zerrei…
don't leave…"
"I'm not leaving."
Zerrei's glow brightened faintly with relief.
Oren whispered:
"He's developing a protective instinct."
Arden nodded.
"I noticed. He stood like he was guarding her."
Oren murmured:
"And vessels aren't supposed to have instincts."
Lyra stroked Zerrei's cheek.
"Let's go. Together."
He nodded—slowly, but determined.
"…together…"
They began to move.
And behind them, deep in the trees—
A faint glow blinked.
Red.
Watching.
Waiting.
Measuring.
The soft voice that drifted through the leaves was barely more than a whisper.
"…Found you."
Zerrei jolted, clutching Lyra.
"…Lyra… run…"
But she held him tightly.
"No. We move together."