Pain came first.

  Not sharp. Not sudden.A deep, pulsing pressure that wrapped around Sei’s skull like a vice slowly being tightened.

  He groaned.

  The sound scraped his throat raw.

  Light burned behind his eyelids, even before he opened them. When he did, the world swam — pale stone ceiling, unfamiliar beams, the smell of herbs and clean linen cutting through something metallic.

  Blood.

  He lifted a hand instinctively.

  Red smeared across his fingers.

  “…What,” he croaked. His tongue felt thick. Wrong. “What happened?”

  “Don’t move.”

  Eva’s voice. Close. Steady. Too steady.

  Sei tried anyway. His body answered with a wave of agony so complete it stole the breath from his lungs. Every muscle screamed in protest, nerves buzzing like exposed wire.

  He collapsed back into the bed with a strangled gasp.

  “Four days,” Eva said quietly. “You’ve been out for four days.”

  Sei stared at the ceiling, chest heaving.

  “Four…?” He swallowed hard. “Greymark—”

  “You collapsed,” she said. “After.”

  Something cold settled in his gut.

  “After what?”

  Eva didn’t answer immediately.

  He turned his head toward her. She stood beside the bed, armor gone, hair loose and pulled back simply. Dark circles shadowed her eyes — the kind that didn’t come from lack of sleep alone.

  “…Tell me,” Sei said.

  Her jaw tightened.

  “You didn’t stop,” she said. “Not when you should have.”

  The room felt smaller.

  Eva leaned back against the wall, arms crossing slowly — not defensive. Containing.

  “You started with one,” she continued. “The boy. Then another. Then another. You weren’t choosing anymore. Anyone we brought to you… you touched.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Sei’s fingers curled into the sheets.

  “I don’t remember,” he whispered.

  “I know.”

  Her voice softened — just slightly.

  “The light never changed,” Eva said. “Not color. Not intensity. It didn’t flare. It didn’t pulse. It just… stayed.”

  She looked at her hands, as if remembering something she wished she could forget.

  “There was a man,” she went on. “Middle-aged. No pulse when they brought him in. Cold. Stiff enough that I told them it was too late.”

  Sei’s breath caught.

  “And then?” he asked.

  Eva met his eyes.

  “You touched him.”

  The room went silent.

  “…No,” Sei said weakly. “That’s not— that’s not possible.”

  “He gasped,” Eva said. “Like he’d been drowning.”

  Sei felt his stomach drop.

  “Someone screamed,” she continued. “Thought it was a trick. Thought it was Dominion magic.”

  Her voice hardened at that.

  “But it wasn’t,” she said. “There was no coercion. No chains. No mark. Just… breath. Returning.”

  Sei turned his face away, nausea rising fast.

  “I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I swear, I didn’t—”

  “I know,” Eva repeated. Firmer this time. “That’s what scares them.”

  Sei squeezed his eyes shut.

  Green.For a heartbeat, he thought he saw it — that inviting, wrong glow at the edge of his vision.

  It vanished just as quickly.

  “What happened after?” he asked.

  “You kept going,” Eva said. “Until you couldn’t.”

  She pushed off the wall and stepped closer.

  “When you finally collapsed, you didn’t fall,” she said. “You just… went limp. Like someone cut the strings.”

  Her gaze flicked briefly to his hands.

  “The light didn’t stop right away.”

  Sei shuddered.

  “And the people?” he asked.

  “Most lived,” Eva said. “Some didn’t. Whatever spread through Greymark didn’t disappear. But it slowed. Bought time.”

  She hesitated.

  “You saved more than anyone thought possible.”

  That didn’t feel like comfort.

  That felt like a sentence.

  “Where am I?” Sei asked quietly.

  “Toradol,” Eva said. “Back in the keep.”

  Of course.

  “The King ordered you brought back immediately,” she added. “The council convened while you were still unconscious.”

  Sei let out a humorless breath.

  “Of course they did.”

  Eva watched him closely.

  “They haven’t spoken to you yet,” she said. “Not directly.”

  “But they’re watching,” Sei said.

  “Yes.”

  Silence stretched between them.

  His head throbbed again — harder this time — and warm wetness trickled from his nose. He wiped it away absently, staring at the blood like it belonged to someone else.

  “…Eva,” he said. “If I did that— if I really did—”

  “You did,” she said, without hesitation.

  Sei swallowed.

  “Then I don’t know what I am anymore.”

  Eva didn’t answer right away.

  When she did, her voice was low.

  “You’re still you,” she said. “That much hasn’t changed.”

  She paused.

  “But the world does now.”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  Sharp. Formal.

  Eva straightened instantly.

  Sei didn’t need to ask who it was for.

  His body still ached. His head still rang. His hands still felt warm — like they remembered something he didn’t.

  Whatever he’d unleashed at Greymark…

  It hadn’t stayed there.