Chapter 2 -Caylix-
\-Caylix-
Thirteen years ago, continued...
The moment we step inside the watchtower, I know something irreversible has begun.
Stone walls swallow the heat of the night, trapping smoke and firelight until the air feels too thick to breathe. The fire crackles low and steady, each pop unnaturally loud in the silence that follows us in. Avianna is guided toward the far end of the room, the blanket they wrap around her is far too large, swallowing her small frame. She barely seems to notice. Her fingers are still twisted tightly in my sleeve.
Each time I shift, even slightly, her grip tightens. As if she thinks releasing me will make me disappear. Across the chamber, the King moves with Elder Agameus toward the far wall. Their voices are lowered, meant to be private.
They are not.
“There is magic in him,” the elder says.
The words raise the fine hairs along my arms.
“Old,” Agameus continues. “Buried too deeply for me to see its source.”
“You cannot see what kind it is?” the King asks.
Agameus’s grip tightens on his staff.
“There is only one kind of magic that clouds my sight,” he says slowly.
The fire pops sharply. The King doesn't speak right away. Instead, I feel his magic surround me again. He studies me in silence.
“I find no darkness in him,” the King says at last. “No hunger. No corruption.”
Agameus nods once. “Because it is not his.”
The words settle heavily in the room.
“If dark magic is within him,” the elder continues, “it was done to him.”
Silence stretches.
“I can feel his destiny, though” Agameus adds quietly.
“And that is?” the King asks.
Agameus does not answer right away.
“He is meant to protect her.”
Something tightens in my chest.
The King’s voice is quiet when he speaks again. “I felt that already. He would give his life for her.”
I would.
The truth settles without hesitation.
“Many will try to harm her,” Agameus says. “Politics. Power. Dark things that thrive on fear. She will draw them, whether she wishes it or not.”
His staff shifts against the stone. The runes carved along its length glow faintly beneath his grip.
“But this boy,” the elder continues, “was born to stand between her and that danger.”
The silence weighs more than stone.
“There is already magic reaching between them,” Agameus says. “The runes are calling for a binding.”
“A tether,” he continues. “Protector to future queen.”
The King does not hesitate.
“Do it.”
He turns back toward me.
“I would ask you to come with us to the palace,” he says. “Enter my service. You will be trained, fed, given a place, and a title.”
I do not need time to consider.
“I would be honored, sir.”
Agameus studies me with a gaze too sharp to be gentle.
“The magic in you already recognizes her,” he says quietly. “You feel it, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The answer comes without thought.
“Describe it,” the King says.
I search for the words.
“It feels like something heavy,” I say slowly, “that suddenly knows where it belongs.”
The elder nods once. “That is why the runes stirred.”
He steps closer.
“If we bind you, it will not be done lightly,” he says. “Your life will no longer be your own.”
I turn to Avianna. She meets my gaze. Fear still lingers in her eyes, but beneath it, something steadier. Trust.
“I don’t know how,” I say quietly. “But something in me already knows her. And it will not fail her.”
The King’s gaze sharpens.
“Understand this,” he says. “Your duty is her protection. Not her possession. Not her claim.”
“I understand.”
And I do. Agameus crouches in front of Avianna.
“There is magic already reaching for you,” he says gently. “I can bind it, if you wish.”
Her fingers tighten in my sleeve. She looks at me, then back to the elder.
“Would it hurt him?” she asks.
“No.” He pauses, gaze steady on hers.
“You should understand what that means though.”
He turns slightly, angling his body so he can see us both.
“This tether would be forged through rune and earth,” he says. “It would make him your shield, not by command, but by awareness.”
Avianna listens without blinking.
“He would hear your thoughts,” the elder continued. “But only the ones you wish for him to hear. He would sense danger before it reaches you, the tether would pull him toward you when harm draws close, whether you call for him or not. When fear breaks loose inside you, when danger draws near, when your heart cries out, he would know.”
My breath stills.
“You would be able to close it,” he adds, turning back to her. “The bond would answer only to you. If you wish for silence, he will hear nothing. If you wish for him to hear everything, he will.”
Her shoulders ease, just a little.
She glances at me again. Searching.
“And him?” she asks. “Would I hear him too?”
“No,” Agameus says softly. “Not his thoughts. That burden does not fall to you.”
Her brow creases.
“But you would feel him,” he continues. “His presence. His steadiness. His nearness when you need it. Like a hand guiding you in the dark.”
Something in my chest breaks open.
“It would bind him to you.”
Avianna’s gaze lifts to mine. There is a question there, quiet and unspoken. I nod once. Relief flickers across her face, and a small smile follows.
“Yes”
The elder rises and plants his staff against the stone floor.
“So be it.”
The runes flare. The air thickens. Pressure builds until my breath turns shallow. Pain strikes deep in my chest. Fear crashes into me. It’s not mine, though.
It’s hers.
Fire. Steel. The certainty that she is about to die. It's so sharp I cannot breathe. Then relief. It drops me to my knees.
You saved me.
The thought lands raw and unguarded. A pull follows it. Toward her. My hand tightens around hers.
“And I would again,” I say hoarsely. “Without question.”
The pressure eases. Warmth spreads outward, steady and anchoring.
“The bond is made,” Agameus says.
The King exhales slowly. “I can feel it.”
So can I. A quiet presence beneath my skin. A pull I could not escape even if I tried.
“You’ll need a name,” the King says.
Agameus studies me for a long moment.
“Caylix.”
The word settles into my bones. Protector. Avianna’s fingers tighten in mine. I lift my gaze to the King.
“Whatever comes for her,” I say, the certainty shocking in its weight, “will have to come through me first.”
The King nods once.
“Come,” he says.
I step outside. For a heartbeat, nothing happens. Then the tether tightens. My breath catches as the world fractures.
Some dangers burn sharp and near. Others loom distant, vast enough to feel but not name.
And beneath it all, something colder settles in my chest.
Not every threat is coming for her. Some are already waiting.