Feels like I’ve heard it somewhere, like a bell muffled in fog.

Hedi closed the book; her chin rested on her palm like a perched bird. Names always pricked her ear, but the one Clare mentioned felt like a sound she’d only brushed by, maybe tangled with another. Is there a Royal Magus named Dili Berlina?

Dili Berlina.

They aren’t sisters, right?

Should be… not sisters, Reynor murmured, his voice a stone dropped into still water.

Hedi stacked the library books at the desk’s corner, neat as tiles in sunlight. Clare was royalty; his words carried weight like a seal on wax. If he said they weren’t sisters, then they weren’t.

Drop by if you have time, he said, like a breeze leaving the room.

If I do.

Then I’ll take my leave.

Reynor bent his knees; his waist traced an elegant arc, like a bow strung with moonlight. His right hand flowed to his chest, left side, palm turned in. He lowered his head a fraction. His silhouette pooled on the carpet where warm light spilled, and his eyes hid behind wind-stirred strands of hair. Even concealed, they carried a deep, untouchable nobility, like a lake under ice.

The whole motion was fluid as cloud and stream, no hurry, no noise.

Tap-tap-tap.

Glossy little shoes walked the office floor, the sound fanning toward the door like rain across tiles.

The door clicked softly shut behind him.

Who was that! Selina’s voice snapped like a sparrow’s cry.

A colleague from the Academy, Hedi said, eyes flicking to Selina like a leaf to a gust. Reynor de Clair.

I know his name, she said, the words sharp as etched glass.

You…

Why do you always draw eyes? Students wave, the principal greets you, and now a male noble—moths to your lamp!

Because I work here, Hedi said; this is my field of wind and stars.

He came on purpose to talk! He even asked if you’d been back a while, like a hawk homing in.

I didn’t answer, she said, leaving it to drift like a leaf on water.

You knew, though!

Selina puffed her cheeks; her eyes flickered like sparks. Her chest filled with a burning jealousy, a brazier too full of coals.

She went to the window and shoved it open; fresh air spilled in like cool river water, yet it didn’t quench the boil. She paced, heels ringing like a drum, trying to shake the pressure out of her ribs with each vibration in the floor.

Around and around she went, a fixed route like a clock hand chasing its mark.

If it makes you uncomfortable, Hedi said after a beat, then don’t speak to him next time. Cut that thread of wind.

I just feel defeated, like a kite cut loose.

What’s that—

Your network, my network. Your world, my world. Everything’s miles apart, like two rivers in different beds!

I like you. Isn’t that enough? A lantern held out in dusk.

If we hadn’t entered the Dark Realm, would you still like me?

Honestly, I wouldn’t even know you, Hedi said—just a face in the rain-swallowed crowd.

Then you’d like someone else. Another moon under the same sky.

If we didn’t know each other—yes. But we do, and we’ve lived through things side by side. Your “what if” is a thorny fantasy that only hurts. Cherish the real me. Don’t drown in possible pain.

Also— Hedi picked each word like stepping stones across a stream. You can make yourself excellent to shrink the gap, not ask me to bend like a reed to meet you. If that thought lives in you, take this as good advice.

But I can’t do anything, Selina said, her hands as empty as winter branches.

Hedi let out a breath, mist thinning in cool air.

Selina’s flaw was this. She wouldn’t step out of her small, survivable world, wouldn’t dig for what truly lit her heart. Worse, after all this time together, she’d never poured herself wholly into a single thing, never even held a silly pride for long. Her target had always been Olivia. After quitting the institute, she grew more stubborn, staying in the original soil. That kind of root doesn’t change from a few words.

Do you have anything you want to do? Anything under the sun.

Be with you, she said, like a shadow to its tree.

Aside from me?

Selina shook her head, blank as an overcast noon.

Hedi rubbed the bridge of her nose and set her other elbow on the broad armrest. The window stood open; a cool wind threaded in, a pale ribbon. Her lips hovered near closed. Her eyes set on the horizon’s straight line, as if watching Selina, as if watching nothing at all.

Soft daylight brushed her profile, showing a full brow, the gentle line of cheekbones, and the fine crosshatching at her eye corners—little maps deepened by thought and faint displeasure.

Don’t be mad, Selina said, as if fending off clouds.

I’m not. I’m thinking what you might like.

Running?

Do you like it, or are you saying it for me, like an echo after thunder?

I… don’t know what I like. After entering the Academy, even listening to your stories drifts me toward anxiety about talking to others, like a boat pulled by an undertow.

Don’t you like housework? The small tides of daily life?

Housework and walks are habits. Skip them and my chest feels hollow, like a room with its lamp blown out.

Seems this won’t be solved quickly— not a knot undone by one tug.

I can think of something! If I grind the thought-stone long enough!

Hedi shook her head. She couldn’t find a thing that existed for Selina herself. For all her many strengths, and her tiny flaws eclipsed by those strengths, the decisive spark was missing.

I’ll think of it, Selina pressed on. Just need to use my brain, stir the still water.

By forcing yourself, you won’t discover what you love. And don’t read my face and decide I’m angry or disappointed. I’m not. I’m just thinking.

I can try running, let the wind test me.

Do you like running, or is that borrowed fire?

It’s my forte! My legs are springs.

…Try it. Interest grows from trial, seeds finding soil.

Maybe I could be an athlete, wearing sunlight on the track.

You carried me and ran that fast. You could take the crown.

Selina chuckled, warmth like a kettle beginning to sing, and shifted to 233 Gutong Street, a name whispering of old trees. Do you want to take a look?

On the weekend, when the light softens. Wait for me at home.

I wanted to go together— two steps on one path.

Only witches can work memory, and the potion that alters memory, as de Clair said, likely comes from a witch’s hand. They don’t like strangers.

Two people aren’t that many!

To us, witches are still monsters that resemble humans. If she can brew a memory elixir, we’ll be asking a favor. We need to show respect, like approaching a shrine.

Mm… if the details come back and it really is the vice‑dean, what do we do?

Yeah. What do we do?

I… don’t know…

We’ll know when we arrive. Crossing the bridge comes when we reach the river. Thinking now won’t help.

Selina nodded, a reed bending to wind.

Hedi held Selina’s bright eyes, clear as a sky without clouds, and thought of a bird opening its wings. It glided under the blue, feeling the drag of air, and looked down from a great height at a distant landscape. The distance smeared it like mist and cloud; shapes softened to pale ghosts.

But something vital slept inside that view, like a buried spring.

A place they’d reach, someday.