Dawn peeked over the sea. It was not windy, nor cold, but silent.
Aurelian surfaced from sleep to the faintest patter on canvas — a delicate, irregular sound, like fingertips brushing paper. Fayte's warmth was curled tight against his side, feathers rising and falling in slow, contented breaths. Ooba snored two short, rhythmic grumbles from somewhere near the firepit.
Aurelian blinked the haze away, pushed himself upright on the mat, and listened.
Patter.
Pause.
Patter.
Not rain. Lighter. Colder. Falling without weight.
Snow.
He ducked out of the tent and the world greeted him in silver.
The sky had softened to a pale linen gray. Flakes drifted down in slow spirals, melting the moment they touched the volcanic stones, but still — the air had changed. Snow in the Inkwood's shadow was rare enough. Snow at the coast felt like a whispered blessing from a world testing its colors.
Fayte shot past him with a delighted shrill.
The ardentis bounded across the dark stones as if he'd been waiting his entire life to meet snow. Feathers puffed to twice their size. His wings snapped open, catching flakes on their gleaming pinions. He leapt and twisted, trying to bite at the drifting white specks, each attempt more ridiculous than the last.
Aurelian's breath softened into something warm and aching.
"Easy, little brother—"
Fayte ignored him entirely, too busy pouncing on a patch of pale dust that vanished under his talons.
Ooba stepped out of the tent behind Aurelian, tying his outer shawl across his shoulders. "Mm," he grunted. "Not sticking yet. Ground's too warm. Might change by afternoon." He sniffed. "Cold's sharpening. Snow will want to linger soon."
Aurelian nodded absently, gaze fixed on Fayte.
The ardentis had gone utterly still.
One moment he was rolling in snowflakes; the next, posture locked, head angled sharply downward. A glint shone beneath a thin dusting of white — faint green-blue, like a shard of frozen sea caught in dawnlight. Fayte crept toward it, talons delicate on the stone. Snow whispered around him. His feathers lifted, a slow, rippling crest.
"Fayte?" Aurelian called gently.
The ardentis didn't look back. He nudged aside the thin veil of snow with the edge of his beak. Something gleamed. A beaten-smooth shard of seaglass, large enough to fill Aurelian's palm. Its surface flickered with blue-green light — the same hue as the hippocampus focus resting in Aurelian's pack.
Fayte lowered his head.
Breath puffed in a tiny white cloud.
And then, clear as a bell struck underwater… "Seaglass."
Aurelian's heart stopped.
Ooba froze mid-step, one brow lifting toward his receding hairline. "…Boy," the old man murmured. "Did your bird just speak?"
Fayte lifted the seaglass gently in his beak, padded back toward Aurelian with the proud gait of a creature carrying treasure, and dropped the shard into Aurelian's palms.
Aurelian stared at him.
At the glass, then at him again.
"You… you spoke," Aurelian whispered, voice cracking at the edges.
Fayte chirped a pleased and warm note—and butted his forehead into Aurelian's chest. "Of course I did."
Aurelian let out a breath that sounded too close to a laugh and something dangerously like a sob.
Ooba grunted, rubbing his beard. "Sage blood hears more than sound. Bird's been listening since the Grove. Would've spoken sooner if you weren't so loud in your own head."
Fayte flared his wings proudly.
Snow drifted around them in soft spirals.
And Aurelian, holding the shard of seaglass and the warmth of his brother, felt something shift inside him — something bright, something steady, something good.
"When the sun rises more fully," Aurelian whispered, brushing Fayte's beak with shaking fingers. "We'll search for more. Together."
Fayte trilled in triumph.
Ooba huffed. "Good. Maybe the bird will teach you to listen half as well as he can."
The snow kept falling.
For the first time in days, Aurelian felt the world offering him something demanding nothing back.
The fish Ooba had roasted crackled softly in the cold air, steam rising in ribbons that vanished the moment they touched the falling snow. They ate with the easy quiet of people who'd survived something difficult and were now allowed, briefly, to simply exist.
Aurelian wiped his hands on a cloth, glanced toward the pale shoreline, and felt a small, boyish thrill uncoil in his chest.
He turned toward Fayte. "You ready to hunt more seaglass?"
Fayte perked instantly — wings flaring just enough to scatter the snowflakes nearby. Ready, his whole body seemed to say, and his eyes glimmered with that newborn confidence of someone who had just discovered they had a voice.
They stepped out onto the beach. Snow drifted lazily around them, settling in the creases of volcanic stone. The tide rolled low and slow, as if reluctant to disturb the quiet morning.
Aurelian crouched beside a tidepool glittering with trapped flakes of ice. Shards of seaglass winked beneath the thin skim of water — green, blue, white, the colors softened by years of sand and sea. He gathered an armful, still half-grinning at the absurd wonder of it all, and slipped them into the Shadow Gate's waiting dark.
One piece he didn't store. The hippocampus focus — pale green seaglass shaped by Udred's careful hand — lay beside him on the stone. Dawnlight turned its edges into liquid emerald.
Bootsteps crunched behind him.
Ooba stopped at his shoulder, shawl pulled tight against the cold, eyes narrowing at the focus with the exact squint he used when mentally cataloging herbs or apprentices.
"Terranan make," he said, tapping the staff lightly against his leg. "Am I right, boy?"
Aurelian nodded. "Udred made it for me. It has… something in it. A kind of magic. But I don't know what it means yet."
Ooba reached down without asking permission—Sage privilege—and lifted the focus between two careful fingers. The old man turned it once, twice, letting the dawnlight slide through its center. Snowflakes melted the moment they touched it.
A soft pulse of light breathed outward.
Not bright, but deep.
Ooba's eyebrows rose. Slowly. As if someone were winding a rope up his spine, and each inch tightened the recognition.
"Well," he murmured, a smile creasing the corner of his mouth. "That explains a few things."
Aurelian frowned. "What does it do?"
Ooba placed the focus in his palm and closed Aurelian's fingers around it with surprising gentleness. "Come to the lagoon with me, Starbriar." He turned toward the curve of coastline to the south, where dark stone met a natural inlet carved by time and tides.
"Time to witness the marvel of Terranan craft."
Fayte fluttered behind them, feathers shimmering with excitement.
Snow drifted.
The sea breathed.
Aurelian felt, for the first time, that the world wasn't just reacting to him — it was about to teach him something.
They followed the curve of the beach until the shoreline bent inward. A crescent-shaped lagoon opened before them — sheltered by volcanic stone, its surface glass-still despite the tide. Snowflakes dissolved the moment they touched the water.
Ooba stopped at the water's edge and gestured. "Stand there. Hold the focus."
Aurelian stepped forward. The seaglass hippocampus warmed instantly in his palm.
A hum answered him — subtle, then deeper, like a bell ringing underwater. Aurelian's breath caught.
Ooba folded his arms. "Terranan craft remembers where it was born. Listen to it."
Aurelian closed his eyes and let the hum travel through his bones.
The sea answered.
A pulse moved through the focus.
Once. Twice. A third time, stronger — and a silver screen flickered across his vision.
Blessing Detected—The shard brightened, pale green shifting to turquoise, then to shimmering white.
Ooba nodded. "Good. Return it. Let the ocean finish what it began."
Aurelian knelt and lowered the glowing shard into the water.
The moment the glass touched the surface, the lagoon lit from beneath — soft radiance spreading outward like ripples of moonlight. The pulsing quickened. As it flared, the shard's light built inside it.
Fayte pressed close to Aurelian's side, trembling with excitement.
The light climbed. Brightened, then—the seaglass burst.
A silent bloom of white-green radiance erupted from the lagoon, spiraling upward before dissolving into drifting motes.
Aurelian staggered, shielding his eyes.
The lagoon dimmed. Something moved within. A small shape swirled beneath the surface—delicate, glowing, alive. It swam in slow, circling ribbons of pale light.
A newborn hippocampus.
Its green-blue scales shimmered. Its mane rippled like seafoam. It surfaced and released a soft trumpet-like cry that vibrated through Aurelian's ribs.
Fayte chirped in astonishment.
Ooba whispered, awe softening his normally stone-hard voice. "A Terranan blessing… I haven't seen one in thirty years."
Silver text shimmered: [Covenant Achieved] — Blessing of the Sea Bestowed
[New Ability Gained: Bloom]
Your bond with the sea, life, and memory deepens.
Bloom manifests as waves of restorative grace.
Effect:
• Emits healing pulses within a short radius
• Restores minor health, stamina, and mana over time
• Causes plants to flourish; wildlife may gather peacefully
• Strength increases near natural water sources
• Ability scales with emotional balance and will
Aurelian exhaled tremulously as the baby hippocampus circled once, then lifted its luminous eyes toward him.
Ooba touched the water with two fingers, reverent. "The sea chose to answer you, boy. That's no small thing."
Aurelian knelt, extending a hand close to the surface.
The hippocampus brushed its muzzle against the water where his fingers hovered — a greeting.
Aurelian whispered, barely audible, "Thank you."
Fayte leaned his weight into Aurelian's hip, feathers warm and crackling with quiet pride.
Ooba straightened, tapping his staff once. "A covenant formed before my own eyes… Eden would have shouted the forest awake with joy."
The newborn spirit darted playfully through the lagoon, then dove deeper, leaving behind a swirl of pale light.
The water stilled. Aurelian felt his breath settle for the first time since leaving the Grove. Bloom pulsed once through his chest — warm, gentle, alive.
He realized something then… The forest had accepted him, and now the sea. The world was watching.
The last ripple of light faded from the lagoon.
Aurelian remained kneeling, breath trembling as the warmth of Bloom coursed through his chest. Fayte nudged his shoulder with a proud chirr, feathers bright with lingering glimmer.
Ooba stood very still.
The old man's eyes had half-lidded, the way a sage listens to the earth, not the air. He exhaled slowly — a deep, weighted breath that carried respect.
"I feel what it gave you, boy," he murmured. "A Sage's blessing, you might say."
Aurelian looked up sharply. "You… felt that?"
Ooba tapped his staff against the ground once. The earth responded with a faint, agreeable thrum beneath their feet.
"Any fool could feel that," Ooba said. "But I'm no fool. The ground warmed. The air softened. Even the bird glowed like he swallowed sunrise." He gave Aurelian a small, crooked smile. "Whatever the sea saw in you, it offered freely. That's rare magic. Honored magic."
Aurelian swallowed, the new warmth still pulsing in him — gentle, but unmistakably alive.
Ooba waved a hand toward the open sand. "Up. Go glide and practice. Let your breath settle. Let that new gift bleed into the ground beneath your steps. You need to feel how it lives in you."
Aurelian rose slowly.
Ooba gave him a once-over. "And put on your robes while you do it. Power moves different when cloth drags and pulls. You'll need to learn how your body moves wrapped in that weight."
Aurelian blinked. "Now?"
"Now," Ooba said firmly. "Before habit cements wrong."
He adjusted his grip on the staff and turned toward the tent. "I'll break down the camp." He took a few steps, then paused and glanced back over his shoulder. "Bird."
Fayte's head snapped up proudly.
"Watch your brother," Ooba said. "Keep him out of trouble. And…" He scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Find me a marvelous piece of seaglass. I'd like something to remember this blessing by."
Fayte gave a delighted, ringing cry—sacred quest accepted—and bounded off across the stones, wings half-spread, scanning the shoreline like a treasure hunter born.
Aurelian laughed under his breath, the sound lighter than anything he'd carried since the Grove. The lagoon shimmered behind him. Bloom pulsed once beneath his ribs, warm as sunlight on morning water. For the first time, practicing his movements didn't feel like training.
It felt like stepping into a new shape of himself.