The first time the power slipped, it wasn’t violent.
It wasn’t explosive.
It was quiet.
And that—more than anything—made Nyra pause.
She stood at the edge of the clearing, her feet rooted against the damp earth, her breath slow, deliberate, controlled in a way it had never been before. The air around her held steady, responding not to instinct now, but to intention.
Her hand lifted slightly.
Not reaching.
Guiding.
A faint current stirred beneath her skin, moving outward, threading into the space around her like something learning its path instead of forcing it open.
For a moment—
It worked.
The energy settled, steady, responsive, flowing exactly where she directed it.
Then—
It resisted.
Not sharply.
Not violently.
Just… enough.
Nyra’s brows pulled together slightly as her
