A Tether's Worth

His eyes slowly opened to a soft voice and the smell of baked bread.
A smile came to view as the figure placed a slice in front of him.
This was all too familiar—but why couldn’t he see her face? he thought.

“K.., dear.” She sat beside him at the table and continued,
“Happy birthday, my son.”

Her voice carried both joy and sorrow. Her fingers curled against the chipped wood.
“I wish your father was here with us.”

A blink.

The surroundings changed instantly. Fire and blood soaked the air. Cries rang out from every direction.
The same lady rushed toward him and lifted him into her arms.

“You’ll be fine, K…” Her voice trembled, the name trailing away again.
Sweat rolled down her face with each hurried step. Howls echoed behind them.

Her grip tightened as she ran faster through the burning forest. Reaching a small clearing, she set him down and bent to meet his eyes.
Her hands gripped his shoulders.

“You need to run, K..” The name fizzled out once more. “Follow this path—and don’t look back until you reach the river.”

The growls grew louder. They were close. She looked at his tear-streaked face one last time and pressed her lips to his forehead.

“Go!” she cried.

Her arms flared with a faint orange light that spread, cloaking her entire body.

The boy turned and ran. His vision blurred with tears as the sounds of battle raged behind him. He didn’t look back.

Then, all at once, the noise stopped. No more screams. No more howls.
Just silence.

He knew what that meant—
but he kept running anyway.

The river came into view. Footsteps thundered behind him again. He was almost there.

Just as the noise closed in, he leapt forward—into the water.

__________

“Mom…”

Kai’s cracked lips moved as a tear slipped down his face. 

The faint dim of the sun trickled between the willow’s leaves. He had almost forgotten his mother’s sacrifice so that he could live.

Rose walked briskly toward the tree, expecting to find Kai sitting in his usual quiet way, maybe reading or simply lost in thought. But instead, she saw him collapsed on the ground, barely conscious.

Her breath hitched in her chest. Without thinking, her arms motioned in unison. Her feet lifted in the air as she sped toward him. She landed on her knees beside him, heart racing.

“Kai?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “What happened—are you okay?”

He stirred weakly, eyes barely open. “You shouldn’t waste time on someone like me…” he murmured. “Did you find someone to tether with yet?”

Panic surged through her. “Don’t talk like that,” she said, searching his face for signs of what had happened. “Who did this to you?”

She lifted his head, resting it on her thigh.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice paper-thin. “No one will tether with me. This is my fate… I’ve accepted it.”

Her golden stare shimmered with the pressure of unshed tears. “I’m sorry I couldn’t change the world in time, but that’s because I realized I can’t do it alone.”

He shook his head, slow and strained. He realized what she meant.

“Don’t tether for my sake. You wanted to change the system… You still can—without me.”

“You’re wrong,” she said, her voice catching. “I didn’t want to tether. I still don’t.” Her hands reached for his, her magic responding before her mind could catch up. “But if it’s the only way to save your life… I will.”

He tried to argue. “Your world is bigger than me…”

But she leaned closer, “this past year, you rebelled with me; looking for a cure.” Her grip tightening gently around his. “My world is nothing without you.”

A golden thread shimmered to life, snaking between their joined hands, faint but unmistakable. It wrapped around their fingers like a vow whispered in silence before expanding around their bodies. Their robes fluttered from the hem, as Rose’s hair danced to the pressure.

Her tears fell freely now, landing on his cracked skin. Where each drop touched, his body pulsed with faint light — not a surge, but a restoration. A promise.

The tether was formed, as if fate had written it before it happened. Unseen, unofficial, unspoken, yet undeniably real.

They said nothing more.

__________

Pale sunlight stretched lazily across the walls of Kai’s quarters.

He stirred awake slowly, his mind swimming to the surface of consciousness. His left hand was warm — gently held between another’s. Sensation where there was a lack of. As his eyes blinked open, he saw her: Rose, asleep in a chair beside him, her head resting lightly on the edge of the mattress. Her white robes draped around her, shielding her from the morning air.

He shifted slightly and winced, but the pain didn’t come. His skin was smooth as his free hand traced his skin. The usual cracks had vanished, replaced with faint etched lines; scars like the memory of pain rather than its presence. His magic didn’t hum or spike or scream. It felt… stable.

He looked down at their hands, still linked. 

Her hand felt too warm for a dream.

Turning his gaze to her, he studied the way her hair fell loosely across her cheek, how her expression remained peaceful even in sleep. There was strength in the way she rested — as though even in slumber she was guarding something.

And then the memory returned, rushing through him all at once: the tree, her voice, the tears, the glow. She had chosen him. Rose — the girl who could have chosen anyone to tether with, the girl who hadn’t even wanted to tether in the first place — had chosen him.

His chest tightened, not with pain, but something far more fragile.

Hope.

__________

The morning light crept through the curtains, tracing faint lines across Jade’s face as she stared at her ceiling, unmoving.

Sleep had come, but peace hadn’t. Her jaw tensed at the thought of last night—the whispers, the look in Kai’s eyes before he turned her down. The words replayed, but his expression was what burned the most. That quiet apology. That refusal.

“He’d rather die than tether with me,” she muttered under her breath.

Her hand clenched the sheets beside her.
“Why?”

She sat up, brushing her hair back, her breath uneven. “Am I not strong enough? Or was I just not… her?”

Her reflection in the vanity mirror caught her eye. It was almost mocking—the image of the composed, dependable girl everyone thought she was. Always the shadow beside the bright one. Always second to Rose.

Her lips tightened as she grabbed her comb. Her curls resisted her hurried motions, tangling and snapping as she tried to tame them.
“Enough,” she whispered, tossing the comb aside.

A soft knock came from the door.
“Lady Jade? May I come in to prepare your—”

“I’ve already dressed, Celia,” Jade called, voice steady but cool. “You’re dismissed for now.”

“Yes, my lady.” The maid’s footsteps faded down the hall.

Jade stood and gestured toward the wall hook. Her robe lifted smoothly into the air and settled into her hands before she tied it around herself. She fitted her shoes and stepped toward her door.

If Rose wanted to avoid her, fine. But Jade wasn’t going to be ignored. Not today.

The corridors of the dorm wing were quiet. A few maids of other B-ranked students moved about—some waiting outside doors for their masters to rise, others preparing for their morning routines. They lowered their heads as Jade passed, before resuming their tasks. She kept her gaze forward, every step echoing against the polished floor until she turned down the familiar hallway that led to Rose’s quarters.

Outside the door stood Alice—the same maid who had served Rose for years. Their eyes met before Alice bowed lightly.

“Good morning, Lady Jade.”

“Is she inside?”

Alice’s hands folded neatly in front of her. “Lady Rose requested not to be disturbed.”

Jade’s brow twitched. “Not even by me?”

“I’m afraid not, my lady.” Alice’s tone was polite but firm.

Jade stared for a moment longer. The silence between them pressed heavy. Finally, she exhaled through her nose and forced her shoulders to relax. “Fine.”

She turned sharply, her robe brushing against Alice as she left.

The air outside the dormitory was fresh—too fresh. She walked without aim at first, her boots clicking against the stone path. Her eyes drifted toward the courtyard, almost on instinct. The willow tree. The same place she had found them so many times before.

Empty.

The branches swayed gently in the breeze, but no one sat beneath them.

Her chest tightened.

“Where are you, Rose…” she murmured.

She turned next toward the library. The echo of her footsteps followed her through the marble hall, bouncing off the high ceilings. Each corridor she passed only deepened her unease. No Rose. No Kai. No whispers—just an unnatural quiet clinging to the air.

When she stopped, her fingers curled again at her side. Something had changed.

“Lady Jade?”

She turned. A familiar voice approached from behind—a tall boy with sandy hair and a calm expression. Simon. A rank-B stabilizer from the advanced wing.

“Simon,” she greeted, her tone faintly distant.

“You’re out early,” he said with a soft smile. “You look… troubled. Is everything alright?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You could say that.”

He hesitated, hands slipping into his pockets. “If it’s about last night, I heard there was some kind of commotion near the courtyard—”

She cut him off gently. “Simon… be honest.”

His head tilted. “About what?”

Her voice lowered, barely above a whisper. “Would you ever tether with me?”

He blinked, startled. “Of course I would. You’re—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her gaze falling to the floor. “Don’t say it like it’s an honor.”

The silence that followed lingered uncomfortably. For a moment, her mask slipped—the uncertainty, the wounded pride, the confusion all blurring together. Then she straightened again, the practiced calm returning to her face.

“Forget I asked,” she said quietly and stepped past him, leaving the faint scent of lavender and tension in her wake.

Simon watched her go, lips parting as if to call out—but he didn’t. He just stood there, watching her disappear around the corner.