Page 137 of Heart Cradle
The High Runekeeper led them to a study chamber carved deep into the mountain’s heart. It was circular, the walls etched in spiral glyphs softly lit in tones of amber and violet. A smooth stone table hovered at the centre, ringed by slow-turning quartz discs. A younger Runekeeper stood waiting, his robes less formal and the glowing ink on his arms still looked fresh. A tome hovered in front of him, open and pages jostling with embedded spells.
“This is Callix,” Vaelwyn said. “Our specialist in relic convergence theory.”
Branfil raised a brow. “That’s a thing?”
Callix smiled, nervous but eager. “It is now.”
He tapped a rune, and the tome shifted, its pages displaying layered diagrams, looped patterns of the Chain, the royal crest of Melrathen and mirrored runes pulsing in time with the bracelet on her wrist. Then a projection flared into the air above the table, a three-dimensional rune graph, spiralling like a helix, each segment glowing with a different magical signature.
Callix stepped closer. “This is a convergence map. We use it to trace feedback between major artefacts and surrounding magical fields.”
Maeve stared. “That’s the Chain?”
Callix nodded.
“Part of it. It’s… vast. Most relics produce simple pulses, linear, sometimes radial. But the Chain? Pfft, it’s self-referencing. It folds intention through itself, then echoes it outward.” He pointed to a flickering line connecting the Chain to a glowing crest at the chart’s base. “This connection right here, that’s you. The Chain’s current pattern includes your signature magic. It’s not just connected, it’s syncing and it’s accelerating.”
Maeve shifted nervously, and Yendel placed a hand on her arm.
“We believe the Chain didn’t just reappear randomly in your world,” Callix began. “It was called.”
“By who?” Maeve asked.
“By you,” Vaelwyn said softly. “Or more precisely, by your mate bond.”
Maeve frowned.
“It found a way back to Melrathen,” Vaelwyn corrected. “The Chain sensed you nearby. Recognised your bond and you became a fixed point and through that, it was able to return to the Fae Lands.”
Callix nodded. “Your mate bond just gave it a path home.”
Maeve blinked. “So, I’m… what, a carrier?”
“No,” Vaelwyn said. “Well, to be begin with yes but now you are its conduit. We believe it views you as its… match.”
Yendel’s voice was steady, as if he already knew the outcome. “Then what is it doing to her?”
“It’s not doing,” Callix said. “It’s becoming. They’re feeding each other. It’s adapting to her magic and intention. We believe the Chain is evolving, not as a weapon. More as a companion.”
Maeve looked down at it, golden around her wrist, the light flickering across her forearm. Her voice dropped to a murmur. “No that isn’t possible, Eiran told me that the Chain wasn’t just an artefact. That it carried the vows of his ancestors. A promise to protect the realm, that it helped shape magic and to keep it honest. I’m not any of that.”
Vaelwyn’s eyes softened. “Yes. That is its first purpose, not conquest or domination, just guardianship.”
Yendel nodded. “And now that it’s back in Melrathen, the effects are visible. Magic has stabilised, healers are reporting faster intention responses. Runes hold better, even spell fields are beginning to self-correct.”
Branfil added, “The Keep’s wards have stopped flickering, and the elemental grounds have nearly doubled their quality yield.”
Maeve blinked. “Cira said something after I was injured…”
Callix tilted his head. “What did she say?”
Maeve hesitated. “That when she used the painstone, it flared brighter than she’d ever seen. She said I shouldn’t have survived my injuries, that the painstone was a final grasp. She told me the Chain must’ve been working with it, amplifying it.”
Callix’s expression sharpened. “That makes sense. The Chain recognises other magic, especially those tied to sacrifice. It could have fused with the painstone’s intention.”
Vaelwyn nodded. “The Chain has never been passive. It responds to need and truth and now it’s learning from you.”
Maeve’s stomach twisted. “And if I fail it?”
