The wind was still strange when they returned.
High above the cliffs, the ruin's entrance sealed itself again, vines curling back over the stone as if nothing had happened. But the knowledge now carried between them—Karl and Aeris—couldn't be buried again.
Not after what they'd seen.
Not after what they'd fought.
Inside the vault, Aeris had copied the central glyphs glowing beneath Karl's fire. She floated the projection now, a pulsing image suspended above her hand.
"There's something off about this one."
Karl studied the pattern.
"The wings… they match the mark on my chest. But the center—"
"Looks incomplete."
Raiven sat behind them, tail flicking, eyes narrowed.
"The symbol is a seal. A key. Or both. It wasn't meant to be opened by just anyone."
Karl stepped forward, gazing at the floating glyph.
And his mark pulsed again—hotter this time.
A line of violet light carved itself across the symbol.
"It's reacting to me again."
Aeris shifted slightly, ready in case anything flared out.
But it didn't erupt.
Instead, the light reshaped the glyph's center—revealing another symbol buried beneath.
One Aeris didn't recognize.
Karl's eyes widened.
Because it looked like a sword.
No—his sword.
Later that night, after they returned to the Academy, Karl stood alone in the moonlit courtyard, practicing his forms.
He moved like water—silent steps, smooth transitions, each arc of the blade cutting with clarity.
Not just powerful.
Precise.
Raiven watched from the shade of a garden arch.
"You've improved."
"I've been holding back," Karl said. "I wanted to keep a low profile."
"That time is fading."
The final slash ended in a controlled draw across his hip. The blade stopped an inch from the stone. No tremble. No wasted breath.
Behind him, someone clapped.
"You fight like someone who's danced with death."
Karl turned to find Aeris standing near the cherrywood rail, arms folded, her golden eyes glinting in the dim light.
"Didn't hear you."
"You don't look like someone who should still be a student."
"Neither do you."
A faint smirk touched her lips.
She approached slowly, her cloak billowing slightly in the night breeze.
"You said your dragon chose you. But what if you were meant to choose it?"
Karl slid the blade back into the sheath across his back.
"You think I was meant to find it?"
"Maybe not you," she said softly. "But someone like you. With your… control."
"You think I'm in control?"
"I think you're better at hiding it than most."
They stood quietly.
Then Aeris pulled the rune projection from her satchel, the same one from earlier.
"I've been studying the glyphs. That sword shape in the center—it's a binding rune. One I've only ever seen in texts from before the Vanished Era."
Karl's expression tensed.
"You're saying my Soulbind is linked to something older than recorded Soulbinding?"
"I'm saying…" she paused, voice lower now, "you might not be the first Vessel. Just the first to survive long enough to awaken it."
Thunder rolled softly in the distance.
Karl turned his gaze toward the sky.
"If that's true… why me?"
Raiven stirred behind him.
"Because you're not just a Vessel. You're something older. Something the Veil remembers."
Aeris stepped closer, lifting the projection again.
"There's something else. The script circling the sword glyph—it's a phrase."
Karl leaned in.
"What does it say?"
She translated slowly.
"The Echo is not born. It is bound, sealed in flesh until called by flame."
Karl's pulse quickened.
That word.
Echo.
"You are not just his Vessel, Karl. You were his echo," Raiven had said.
"In another life… you may have been more."
Aeris lowered the projection, her expression unreadable.
"Does it mean anything to you?"
Karl's hand drifted toward his chest.
"Too much. And not enough."
The wind picked up, carrying distant bells from the upper towers.
Midnight.
Before she left, Aeris turned once more.
"You're better with a sword than I thought."
Karl raised a brow.
"You thought I only relied on beasts?"
"I thought you wouldn't need steel. Guess I was wrong."
He grinned faintly.
"Guess I'll keep surprising you."
She didn't smile.
But her eyes said she was looking forward to it.