The man in the robes didn't move.
He stood at the edge of the clearing, his non existent eyes staring into nothingness. To Ren, the silver eyes were like twin moons, pulling at the very tides of the silver stitches in his palm.
"Who are you?" Ren's whisper that barely came out of his throat. He tried to take steps backwards again but Cian held him in place.
Cian's grip on Ren's hair didn't loosen, but his head snapped toward the treeline. His sapphire eyes scanned the shadows, narrowed and predatory. Beside him, Kael's hand was already white-knuckled on the hilt of his greatsword.
"Who are you talking to?" Cian's voice was a low growl, vibrating with a hint of the lightning that still danced in his veins.
"The man..." Ren pointed a trembling finger. "Right there. In the robes. He... he spoke."
Julian stepped forward, his emerald eyes flicking across the clearing with practiced precision. He didn't see a anything either. He didn't even see a footprint in the gray dust where Ren was pointing.
"There's no one there, little bird," Julian said, his voice smooth but carrying a new, sharp edge of suspicion.
He then turned and looked at Cian. "Your 'Ocean' might be springing a leak. A Level Six resonance grounding is enough to fracture a Null's psyche. He's seeing ghosts now."
"I'm not!" Ren cried, his vision beginning to blur at the edges.
The fourth stitch in his palm was throbbing, a hot, rhythmic pulse that felt like a needle being driven into his bone. "He said the Hunt has just begun. He said the—"
"Enough," Cian snapped. He let go of Ren's hair, but only to grab him by the front of his tunic, hauling him up until Ren was forced onto his tiptoes.
"There is no man. There is only the static in your head because you took more of my power than your pathetic body was built for."
Ren looked back at the treeline.
The man was gone.
There was only a swirl of gray ash where he had stood, dancing in the wind, that shouldn't have been there.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Ren felt the world start to tilt.
The "white-gold" heat he had harvested from Cian wasn't sitting still; it was expanding, trying to find a way out rather than it settling in his void core.
But Ren was too tired. He hadn't eaten, he hadn't slept, and his nose was still dripping blood onto his new uniform.
"Cian," Kael said, his voice a deep rumble of warning. "Look at him."
Cian looked.
Ren's eyes were rolling back, the brown irises disappearing into white. His skin, usually pale, was now a sickly translucent gray, and the iron collar at his neck was glowing a faint, angry violet.
"He's red-lining," Kael noted, stepping forward and reaching out a hand as if to catch Ren.
"Don't touch him," Cian commanded. It wasn't a concern for Ren; it was a concern for the power. "He's still hot. If you touch him without a lead, you'll ground the residue yourself."
Ren felt his knees give way. The silver lead, still tied to the anchor-stone, snapped taut, jerking his neck back with a sickening crack.
The world went black.
Ren opened his eyes to the smell of woodsmoke and the sharp, medicinal scent of crushed moon-leaf.
He was lying on something soft—a fur bedroll.
His body felt heavy and his head felt like it wanted to roll off.
He tried to sit up, but a heavy weight across his chest pinned him down.
He blinked, his vision slowly coming into focus.
They were in a cave.
The cave had high ceiling and smooth walls like it wasn't man made. A small, controlled fire crackled in the center of the room that lit up the cave. The inside went much farther than he could see.
Outside, the Obsidian Forest was a blanket of total darkness.
The weight on his chest was a heavy, charcoal-grey cloak. Kael's cloak.
"Don't move," a voice said from the shadows near the fire.
It was Julian.
He was sitting on a stone ledge, paring an apple with a small, silver knife. He looked perfectly composed, though the green silk of his sleeves was stained with the gray ash of the forest.
"The Prince wanted to leave you in the ravine," Julian said, his eyes not leaving the apple.
"He said a tool that breaks isn't worth the effort of carrying. But Kael insisted. And I... well, I was curious to see if you'd actually wake up."
Ren's throat felt like it had been scrubbed with sand. "Where... where are the others?"
"Kael is setting wards. Cian is... elsewhere," Julian said, finally looking up. His emerald eyes were cold, reflecting the firelight.
"He's frustrated. He had his first 'clean' kill in years, and yet he's currently pacing the woods because the 'peace' you gave him is already starting to itch. He wants more. He's like a man who just discovered wine and has realized he's out of bottles."
Julian stood up, the movement fluid and silent. He walked over and knelt beside Ren's bedroll. He reached out, not toward Ren's face, but toward his hand—the one tucked inside the sleeve of the cloak.
"Show me your hand, Zero."
Ren pulled back, his heart hammering. "It's... it's just burned from the lead, sir."
"I didn't ask for a diagnosis," Julian whispered, his hand catching Ren's wrist with a grip like iron. "I asked to see it."
Julian stood up and knelt beside Ren's bedroll. He reached out, his gloved fingers catching Ren's wrist. He peeled back the sleeve, revealing the raw, red skin where the silver lead had burned him. Thankfully the burns hid the stitches enough to make it seem like a burn from the bonding lead.
"The Sages say a Null core is like a vacuum," Julian murmured, his thumb brushing near the hidden silver stitches.
"Everything goes in, nothing comes out. But today, in the ravine... Cian didn't just discharge his magic. It was pulled from him."
"No," Ren gasped. "I'm just trying to fulfill my duties."
"Are you?" Julian traced a line over the scar on Ren's palm. "I haven't told Cian what I saw. Not because I'm your friend. If he knew you were... different... he'd tear you apart just to see how you work. I'd rather watch you grow and use you.
"I'm sure you are aware that people are trying to kill him. It is because his magic is too dangerous for even himself to control. People won't allow him sit on the throne like that. Neither would I. He was already close to dying from one of his outbursts before you came along. So be a good little tool for my usage."
Julian pulled back as Kael entered the cave, followed by Cian. The Prince went straight to his gear, his movements jerky and filled with a frantic energy.
"We move at first light," Cian commanded. "Zero, get up. You have the hounds' meat to prepare."
Ren scrambled out from under Kael's cloak, his legs shaking. His mind was still reeling from what Julian had said. He hadn't known the stakes of what he was walking into when he actually walked into it.
He walked to the corner of the cave to the supply crates.
"Sit," a deep voice rumbled.
Ren startled.
Kael was sitting by the fire, a stone in one hand and his jagged greatsword across his lap. The other two had already retreated to the deeper part of the cave to rest.
"I have to prepare the meat, Lord Kael," Ren whispered.
"The meat can wait. You can't even stand," Kael said without looking up. He gestured to a stone near the fire. "Sit. Eat."
He tossed a small leather pouch toward Ren. Inside was dried meat and a piece of hard, salted cheese. It was better than anything Ren had been given as a ground scholarship student.
Ren sat tentatively, the warmth of the fire slowly seeping into his chilled bones. He watched Kael work.
The sound of the stone against the iron blade was the only sound in the cave with the occasional cracking of wood in the fire.
"Why did you tell me to cut the lead?" Ren asked suddenly, the question slipping out before he could stop it.
Kael stopped sharpening. He looked at the blade, his charcoal eyes unreadable. "Because Cian doesn't know how to stop. He's a Valerius. They are born with the sun in their veins. They think the world was made to be burned by them. If you stay tethered when he truly loses control, there won't be enough of you left to bury."
"But I'm a Null," Ren said quietly, chewing the tough meat. "I'm built for it."
"No one is built to be a cage for a god like power," Kael replied. He went back to sharpening.
"You did something today. I don't care what it was. But the Prince... he feels it. He's looking at you the way a starving man looks at a feast. Be careful. The more you 'fix' him, the more he will break you to keep that feeling."
Ren looked at the silver stitches in his palm, hidden by the shadows. "I don't have a choice."
"There is always a choice," Kael said, finally looking Ren in the eye. "Even if the choice is just how you endure the pain."
He reached into a small pouch at his belt and pulled out a tin of salve.
"For your neck. The iron is rubbing the skin raw. If it infects, you'll be useless to us."
It was a cold way to put it, but the gesture was the closest thing to kindness Ren had experienced.
He took the tin, his fingers brushing Kael's calloused hand.
For a split second, Ren felt Kael's magic. It wasn't like Cian's lightning or Julian's serpent-vines.
It was heavy, slow, and incredibly solid. It didn't try to invade Ren; it just stood there, a wall of iron.
"Thank you, sir," Ren whispered.
"Sleep," Kael commanded, returning to his sword.
"I'll take the first and second watch. If you're still tired at dawn, I'll carry your pack."
Ren lay back down on the fur, pulling Kael's cloak back over him. The weight of the fabric was comforting.
For the first time, he didn't feel like a tool. He felt like a person being guarded by a fortress.
But as he closed his eyes, the voice of the man in the robes echoed in his mind: "The Loom has awakened."
He touched the fourth stitch. It was almost complete. He realized how wrong Kael was at that moment. He wasn't a cage for a god like power. He was a vacuum taking the god's power and his body would definitely try to weave it into something new.
He hadn't bargained for all this in his life. Next year was supposed to be his final year as a scholarship student then he'll be free to go back home. Now he was stuck with three extra years.
His luck couldn't get any worse. Ren thought fully.
Outside, the Obsidian Forest screamed in the wind, and in the distance, Ren heard the howling of the South Tower's hounds.
They were close.
And they weren't just hunting the beast.
They were hunting him too because of Cian.