Aron's words hung in the chamber like smoke—Heavy. Impossible to wave away.

  The very thing that separated the powerful from the powerless in this place. The thing that had allowed Lya to heal, that made Aron's spear glow with that strange golden light. And now, somehow, against all logic, Riven had one too.

  "Bonded with a Fragment," he repeated, the words foreign on his tongue. His mind raced, trying to piece together how had it happened? Why him, of all people? What power did it grant him?

  The warmth in his chest pulsed again, as if responding to his thoughts. It felt alive—separate yet somehow part of him. Something that had been missing his entire life without him even knowing it.

  Before he could formulate a response, he caught Lya's gaze. Her eyes were wide, darting repeatedly from his face to his eyes and back again, as if she couldn't quite process what she was seeing. Beneath her obvious concern lay something else—a bright, barely-contained excitement.

  Riven's focus shifted to Aron. The massive man stood a few paces back, his golden eyes narrowed in thought. His expression had darkened, mouth pulled into a tight line that was almost a grimace. His brow furrowed deeply as he studied Riven from a distance.

  Something cold slithered up Riven's spine. His survivor's instinct—the same one that had kept him alive through years of slavery and weeks in this hell—prickled in warning. The Fragment was valuable, that much was obvious. And what was valuable could be taken.

  What if that's what Aron wanted? What if he decided Riven shouldn't have this power? What if he thought it could be extracted, stolen?

  His hand drifted toward his sword, fingers curling reflexively around the hilt. The motion was subtle, unconscious—a hair-trigger response to a threat not yet manifest.

  "Gods, it's amazing!" Lya's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, high and breathless. "I was so worried, but look—this changes everything. Bonding that quickly? It shouldn't be possible. I can feel it already, the shift in the air. Can you? Did you feel the heat? You look... different, Riven. Better. I think."

  The words poured from her in a torrent, her excitement spilling over in rapid, barely-connected thoughts. She was practically vibrating with energy, hands gesturing wildly as she spoke.

  Aron stepped forward then. Riven's grip tightened on his sword, muscles coiling in preparation.

  "Yes, it shouldn't be possible," Aron said, his voice measured but troubled. "You said you fought a creature, so you didn't use a bonding ritual. The ritual—there are a thousand different ways to perform it, but they all ensure a bond forms under the right conditions." He paused, his golden eyes fixed on Riven. "Without it, the process is extremely dangerous."

  Dangerous? The tension in Riven's shoulders began to ease slightly. This wasn't the reaction of someone planning to attack—this was concern, albeit an unexpected kind.

  "I didn't even know what it was," Riven admitted, loosening his grip on the sword. "I just touched it out of desperation."

  Lya turned to Aron, her excitement dimming. "Dangerous... how?"

  "I don't know much," Aron said with a slight shrug of his massive shoulders. "I was always told to use the ritual, everyone is. There are many versions, some more effective than others, but most don't have major prerequisites." He paused, his eyes darkening further. "Forced bonding, without ritual, is forbidden."

  "Forbidden?" Riven frowned. "Why?"

  "There can be severe consequences."

  Lya's brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Aron. "What consequences? I bonded with a ritual too, but nobody told me anything about forced bonding. What difference does it make? He's bonded either way."

  Aron shifted his weight, uncomfortable. "My father told me about it a few times. A forced bond can be unstable. You must know what that means, Lya. An unstable bond is the greatest danger for the Harmonized.”

  “It can lead a person to become corrupted by their own Fragment."

  He raised a hand, as if trying to soften his words. "I'm not saying you're corrupted. But there can be consequences, unique to each person. You need to be careful."

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The realization washed over Riven, leaving him breathless. After everything—the slavery, the fighting, the near-death experiences—he'd finally gained something that might level the playing field. And now he was being told that his reward might be his undoing? That this thing inside him might twist him into something worse than dead?

  He didn't even know what that meant. Would it be like the environment here? Black roots crawling under his skin? Or would it be something else entirely—something worse that he couldn't even imagine?

  I don't want to end up like those disgusting monsters, oozing black liquid with roots growing from their bodies.

  He stood abruptly, irritation flaring hot in his chest. "Great. What wonderful news, really."

  "And what exactly does my amazing power do?" Riven asked, his voice sharp with sarcasm. "Besides kill me, of course."

  Aron shrugged his massive shoulders. "I can help you discover that," he said, setting his long spear carefully on the ground. He moved toward Riven with deliberate steps, stopping just in front of him. "May I?"

  Riven hesitated, slightly puzzled by the unnecessary courtesy, then gave a slow nod.

  Aron's hand—large enough to cover most of Riven's chest—pressed firmly against the spot where the warmth radiated. The pressure wasn't threatening, but Riven tensed anyway.

  "You should feel something here," Aron said, his eyes fixed on Riven's.

  "Yes." The word came out clipped.

  "That's your Koras core." Aron withdrew his hand and stepped back. "It's where your power comes from."

  Lya watched from a few paces away, hands perched on her hips.

  "I can't tell you how your power works or what it is," Aron continued. "To use it, you need to use your Koras. After that, it's up to you to discover what it does." He spread his hands. "Remember, it could be anything."

  "Just circulate the Koras through your body," Lya interjected, leaning forward with renewed enthusiasm. "Then try to feel things, attempt things, until you find something."

  Okay, just try things and hope I don't explode.

  But I get the idea—circulate Koras like a current, try things until I find something related to my power.

  He lowered himself to the ground, crossing his legs beneath him. With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and focused completely inward, trying to visualize his body in detail.

  He tried to force the Koras to move—pushing it like a heavy stone, calculating its path. But the harder he focused, the more he stifled the instinct. It was like trying to force his heart to beat by thinking about it.

  After several minutes, he opened his eyes, frustration evident in the tight line of his mouth. Nothing had happened.

  "You're approaching this wrong," Aron said, reading his expression. "It needs to be instinctive. It's not difficult, but it requires the will to circulate Koras through your body, then controlling it to direct where you want it to go."

  Riven closed his eyes again immediately, impatient to try again.

  This time, he applied Aron's advice. Instead of forcing, he simply willed the energy to flow.

  The shift was immediate—Koras surged through his body like a violent current, chaotic and untamed. The raw power scorched through his veins, forcing him to clench his jaw until his teeth ached. Still, beneath the pain, it felt unmistakably alive.

  Not too much, not too much for now.

  His control was superficial at best. He couldn't direct it precisely where he wanted, but it worked well enough. He tried different "things" as Lya had suggested, thinking of power names, forms, aspects. Nothing seemed to take hold.

  This time, instead of breaking concentration to ask for a solution, he persisted.

  Maybe I'm just approaching this wrong. After all, he said it could be anything. But I can't test every possibility that comes to mind—I'd be here for a thousand years.

  As his frustration began to build again, he noticed something—or rather, he finally paid attention to something that had been there for a while, but that he'd been too focused on "testing things" to notice.

  His perception had changed in a way that was difficult to explain with words. He could... see around him, despite his closed eyes. He sensed Lya's movements, felt the presence of a small insect behind him, became aware of the metal of Aron's spear.

  He pushed further, exploring. He could perceive the space within a certain range around him, a range that changed based on how much Koras he used.

  It's like I can sense things within a certain perimeter around me.

  And apparently I can control this space—expand it or intensify it with Koras. If I expand it, I sense farther. If I intensify it, I sense more precisely.

  After a few moments of exploration, he opened his eyes. A slight curl formed at the corner of his mouth as pride swelled within him.

  Lya leaned forward, practically vibrating with anticipation. "Well? Did you find something?"

  He hesitated for a moment. Should he hide this new ability, or share it?

  After a brief reflection, he decided concealing it now made no sense.

  "It's complicated to explain," he said. "Put simply—I can sense the space within a certain perimeter around me."

  Aron nodded, seeming to grasp the essence. But, Lya looked slightly confused, her head tilted to one side.

  "For example," Riven continued, "I can sense that insect moving behind me even though I can't see it at all."

  Lya immediately rushed to check. She dropped to her knees, peering at the ground where Riven had indicated. There, barely visible even to her focused gaze, was a tiny insect crawling across the stone floor.

  "Woah," she breathed, straightening up.

  A genuine smile spread across Riven's face. "I don't see like I do with my eyes, but I can sense everything—your movements, you, what you're doing. And the more I condense this space with Koras, the more detailed it becomes."

  She came around to face him again, her mouth hanging slightly open, clearly bursting with questions.

  Riven cut her off, postponing the inevitable barrage. "We've stayed here long enough. We need to leave now."

  He carefully picked up his sword from the ground, closing his fingers around the hilt. The corner of his mouth curled upward slightly as he felt a different sensation—firmer, stronger, more powerful.

  The sword felt different in his hand. Lighter. Or maybe he was stronger. Either way, something had changed.