Raven and Shadebinder were left alone in the quiet warmth of their room, yet Aira’s final words lingered like a cold draft. The vague warning gnawed at Raven’s thoughts, leaving behind an unsettling feeling he couldn’t quite shake.
The door creaked open, and the two nurses returned, their presence now a familiar routine. As they moved about, tending to supplies and checking on Raven, a voice echoed in his mind.
Hey, Raven. You can actually use the telepathic link to talk with me covertly.
Shadebinder’s voice carried a playful lilt.
It would be strange if you started speaking to yourself in front of the nurses. Just try to think out loud.
Raven hesitated before focusing his thoughts.
I see... can you hear me?
A soft giggle echoed in his mind.
Crystal clear.
Shadebinder’s usual lightheartedness faded, replaced by a more serious tone.
There’s one more thing Aira asked me to tell you.
Raven tensed.
What is it?
She told us not to reveal my existence.
Not at all? Why?
The thought immediately unsettled Raven.
Well... I’m a valuable item, and many wouldn’t ask for your opinion in acquiring me.
Raven sighed, the realization pressing on him like an invisible weight. A short silence stretched between them.
Then, Shadebinder spoke again, hesitantly.
If all this is too much for you, Aira said she could find a different wielder for me. But...
Shadebinder hesitated before continuing, voice softer now.
I would like to stay with you... if you’re up for it. You saved me from my solitude, after all.
A small, genuine smile tugged at Raven’s lips.
I’m not sure I’m worthy, but... I’d like to stay together too.
A delighted giggle rippled through the telepathic link.
Then it’s settled.
Exhaustion crept up on Raven, pulling his eyelids down.
Sweet dreams, my brave knight.
Thank you... you too.
With that, he surrendered to sleep, his thoughts finally settling into quiet rest.
The following days passed in slow recovery.
Raven’s body slowly regained strength, though his fingers remained weak. He could move them now, but holding objects was still a struggle. Every small success—curling his fingers, lifting a cup—felt like progress, but also a reminder of how far he had to go.
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Mary visited him every few days, her presence always a welcome distraction. On a previous visit, Raven had asked if she had any idea what Aira was planning. Mary had simply shrugged and admitted that Aira had told her very little.
Today, she entered the room in a deep blue dress embroidered with delicate white flowers, carrying a small bowl and fork. A faintly sweet aroma drifted from the bowl, drawing Raven’s curiosity.
She held up a forkful toward him. "Here, try this."
Raven hesitated before taking a bite. The texture was soft, almost creamy, with a light sweetness. It was unlike anything he had ever eaten before.
He swallowed and glanced at her. "What is this?"
"Banana," Mary answered with a pleased smile. "From the Isle of Pearls."
Raven nodded, still savoring the taste. As he chewed thoughtfully, his gaze drifted toward Mary’s gloves—always the same intricate designs, always worn no matter the occasion. The markings fascinated him.
"Those markings on your gloves... what do they do?" he finally asked.
Mary’s eyes lit up with excitement. Carefully, she placed the bowl and fork onto the stand beside him.
"Do you like them? It’s my Runeart."
"Runeart?"
She nodded eagerly. "It’s what allows me to use magic."
To demonstrate, she raised her right palm. The markings faintly glowed, and a small flame flickered to life just above her hand.
Raven’s eyes widened slightly, but before he could ask further, a sharp voice rang out from across the room.
One of the nurses snapped something in a foreign tongue, her tone sharp. Mary winced, flashing a sheepish grin as she quickly let the flame vanish.
Once the scolding ended, Raven leaned in slightly. "So, can you only make fire?"
Mary shook her head. "No, each Runeart does something different, based on what’s written on it."
She raised her left hand this time, and a soft white light emanated from her palm, illuminating the space around them.
Raven studied the markings on Mary’s palms and the backs of her hands. Inside each circle, ancient letters wove together in intricate patterns. The symbols repeated in places, but each of the four circles was unique.
"How do you activate them?" he asked.
Mary flexed her fingers. "I have to pour mana into them."
"How do you do that?"
"Well," she mused, "you have to be born a Wizard... or use a Magem."
Seeing his confusion, she quickly continued.
"I was born able to channel my own mana into Runeart. That’s what makes someone a Wizard. A Magem, on the other hand, is a crystal or gem that stores mana. If you touch it to a Runeart, it can activate the same way."
She paused, then added, "Oh, and you have to learn the ancient runes to create Runeart in the first place."
Before Raven could ask more, a sudden outburst of joy cut through the room—a triumphant yell from one of the nurses. It seemed she had won a big bet in their ongoing card game.
Raven smirked at the distraction but then turned back to Mary as something stirred in his mind.
"I saw Aira use fire in the Wilds. Does that mean she’s a Wizard too?"
Mary immediately shook her head. "Oh, no. Aira uses Sorcery."
"What’s the difference?"
"Sorcery isn’t something you learn—you’re born with it."
Raven raised an eyebrow. "So Aira was just born able to control fire?"
"Yes. She was blessed with Fire Sorcery. But most Sorcerers in Everfrost have Ice Sorcery instead."
"I see..." Raven murmured. Fatigue was settling in again, his limbs growing heavy. He barely stifled a yawn.
Mary chuckled. "How about I help you finish the banana and then let you sleep?"
Raven nodded sleepily. Once the bowl was empty, Mary offered him water to wash it down before tucking him back in.
"Rest well," she said softly.
As sleep pulled him under, the warmth of Mary’s magic and Shadebinder’s quiet presence wrapped around him—reminders that, for now, he wasn’t alone.
