The first thing Lyra learned was that intensified training was not about strength.
It was about exposure.
They took her below the Grey Reach, past corridors even the Watchers rarely used, into chambers carved long before the current wards had been laid. The stone here was darker, threaded with veins that pulsed faintly in response to her presence. Every step drew a reaction, a quiet hum that crawled up her spine and settled behind her eyes.
This place remembers Starborn, Seris said as they descended. That is why it is dangerous.
Lyra kept her breathing steady. I can feel it.
Good, Seris replied. Then you will also feel when it starts asking for things.
The chamber they entered was circular, its ceiling lost in shadow. Symbols etched into the floor formed concentric rings around a shallow basin of clear liquid that reflected light like glass. Kaelin waited at the edge, his expression unreadable.
This is a resonance well, he said. It records interaction between Starfire and Veil energy. Every Starborn who trained here left something behind.
Lyra stared into the basin. The surface rippled though nothing touched it. That sounds comforting.
It is not meant to be, Kaelin said. Step forward.
The moment her foot crossed the first ring, pressure settled over her shoulders. Not crushing, but insistent, as though the chamber itself leaned in to listen. The Starfire stirred, flaring briefly before tightening under her control.
Do not resist yet, Seris said. Let it read you.
Lyra swallowed and stepped fully into the circle.
The basin flared. Images bloomed across its surface, not clear visions but impressions layered atop one another. Figures standing where she stood, hands raised, eyes glowing with power and certainty. Then the fractures. Loss of control. Collapse. Silence.
Lyra staggered, breath hitching. She felt their fear like an echo in her chest.
Enough, she whispered.
The chamber responded. The pressure increased. Not hostile, but demanding. The Starfire surged again, faster this time, reacting to the provocation.
Control it, Kaelin said sharply. This is where many failed.
Lyra planted her feet, grounding herself. She focused not on the power, but on her breath, on the sensation of stone beneath her soles, on the fact that she was here now, not then.
I am not them, she said, voice steady despite the tremor running through her limbs.
The basin stilled. The images faded. The pressure eased.
Seris exhaled quietly. Good.
Lyra straightened, pulse racing. Is that it?
Kaelin's gaze remained fixed on the well. No. That was the well listening. Now it speaks.
The liquid darkened. A presence rose within it, not forming a shape, but a weight, heavy and deliberate. Lyra felt it press against her thoughts, not invading, but observing.
You carry fracture and restraint in equal measure, it murmured within her mind.
Lyra stiffened. You are part of the Veil.
I am what remembers crossing, the presence replied. What watches those who can.
Her hands curled into fists. Then you know what the Council is doing.
Yes.
A chill settled over her. And you are letting it happen.
The presence shifted, something like amusement rippling through its awareness. We do not intervene. We record outcomes.
Seris stepped closer, tension evident. Enough. This is not a negotiation.
The pressure spiked, sharp enough to draw a gasp from Lyra.
Careful, Starborn, the presence warned. You already strain the balance.
Lyra felt something inside her snap, not violently, but decisively. She lifted her chin. Then record this. I will not be maneuvered into becoming what you expect.
The Starfire flared, not uncontrolled, but focused, illuminating the chamber in silver blue light. The presence recoiled slightly, the basin trembling.
Interesting, it said.
The connection severed abruptly. The liquid cleared, leaving the chamber eerily quiet.
Lyra stumbled back, catching herself before she fell. Seris was at her side instantly.
That was reckless, Seris said softly.
Lyra nodded, breath uneven. I know.
Kaelin studied her with a new intensity. It acknowledged you. That rarely happens without consequence.
Before Lyra could respond, a sharp sound echoed through the chamber, a Watcher bursting in, face pale.
Kaelin, the outer sentries report movement along the ravine. Not Council forces. Something else is emerging from beneath the Eclipse Line.
Lyra felt it immediately. A tug low and urgent, deeper than before. Whatever it was, it was not subtle.
Kaelin's jaw tightened. How much time?
Minutes, the Watcher replied. Perhaps less.
Seris drew her blade. Then training is over.
Lyra took a steadying breath, forcing the lingering tremor from her limbs. What is it?
Kaelin did not look away from the basin. A remnant. Something that should not have survived the last cycle.
Lyra's chest tightened. And it woke because of me.
Yes, Kaelin said. But not because you exist. Because you held.
The distinction mattered more than she expected.
As they moved toward the surface, the Reach shuddered again, deeper this time, not an attack, but a stirring. Lyra felt the fractures beneath the stone widen, not breaking yet, but no longer dormant.
Above them, the sky darkened unnaturally, clouds drawn into a slow, spiraling convergence over the distant ravine. Power gathered there, thick and oppressive.
Seris slowed beside her. Whatever comes next will test more than your control. It will test your restraint.
Lyra looked toward the horizon, where the air itself seemed to bend. I am starting to understand that restraint has a cost.
Seris met her gaze. And power demands payment.
As the first tremor split the ravine and something ancient began to rise, Lyra felt the Starfire pulse in recognition, not with fear, but with a terrible clarity.
This was no longer about holding the line.
Something that knew her had awakened.