Chapter 17 - The Breaking Accord
1303 Words
The air inside the Hall of Aether was not still. It writhed.
Normally, the great chamber—its walls lined with luminous crystal and skyglass—radiated calm, the magic of the realm flowing in harmony with the rhythm of the island. But not today.
Today, the Veil was injured.
And the Council could feel it.
Councilor Vellira stood at the center of the circle, her hands spread above the map-table as a flickering projection stuttered in midair. A sphere representing Aureole trembled in its ring of light, shadows forming at its base. The boundary between realms, once a smooth arc of protective enchantments, now danced with sharp pulses—erratic, unstable.
“We’ve lost the boy,” she said, her voice clipped.
Silence.
Then Deren, ever grim, stepped forward. “Not lost. Crossed.”
The others murmured at the word.
Councilor Merien, youngest among them, narrowed her eyes. “We always said the bridge was myth. A metaphor. The Veil is impermeable by all known standards.”
“Until now,” Deren replied coldly. “Standards evolve.”
“It was never meant to be broken,” Vellira said, snapping her fingers. A new diagram spun into place—an interlocking set of magical threads surrounding Aureole like a woven sphere. One had snapped.
“This—this was the seal placed by our founders to prevent direct realm transfer. Not even we are permitted to cross. And yet, Aiden Halloway has done so.”
“By accident,” said Merien.
“By choice,” Vellira snapped. “And worse, through unsanctioned resonance. We warned him.”
“And Clea,” Deren added, his tone turning steely. “She trained him. Defended him. She knew he was forming a bond.”
“She reported the bond,” Merien argued. “And she tried to monitor it. We can’t put all blame on her—”
“She hid its depth.”
“She feared your reaction!”
Vellira slammed her hand on the edge of the glowing table. The light scattered like shattered glass. Everyone went quiet.
“The bond has breached containment,” she said darkly. “And because of it, we are exposed. Aiden is not an ordinary boy. The app responded to him. The bridge recognized him. That makes him a conduit.”
She stepped into the center of the room. “If the Earth realm discovers our existence, if the balance collapses, we do not just lose magic—we lose everything.”
Deren gave a curt nod. “Then we initiate Protocol Sunder.”
A ripple of unease passed through the Council.
Even Merien paled. “You want to sever and strike?”
“Yes,” Deren said. “We don’t know what influence the girl may have had. If she’s opened a channel to Aiden’s core, if their emotions are bound through the tether, the only way to preserve our realm’s integrity is to cut the link entirely.”
“Which would kill him,” Merien said quietly.
“No,” said Vellira. “Not if we act fast. Severance can be contained if the bond hasn’t rooted. But that window is narrowing.”
A bell tolled softly above them—an automated signal from the island’s central pulse.
A warning.
The second in an hour.
“It’s begun,” Deren said grimly. “The instability’s spreading.”
Vellira turned toward the far end of the chamber. “Summon Clea. Now.”
Clea already knew.
She’d felt the moment Aiden crossed the threshold between realms—the way her own aether core had hiccupped, her vision blurring as if she’d been jerked through a dream. The connection between mentor and apprentice, light as a thread, had frayed.
He was gone.
And the Veil?
It wasn’t just fraying.
It was weeping.
She sat alone on the Skyroot Terrace, the wind lashing her cloak around her like wings. The Echo Trees below groaned in discordant harmony, their leaves reflecting strange shades of violet and silver—colors only visible when the realm was misaligned.
Aiden was the best student she’d ever had.
And now he was the most dangerous.
The door behind her hissed open.
“Council summons,” said a junior courier. “Immediate.”
She stood slowly, brushing frost from her shoulder. “Let them scream,” she muttered.
But she followed.
The Council chamber was cold. Not in temperature—Aureole’s climate regulation was flawless—but in spirit. The elders looked at her as one might examine a loaded weapon: potent, once useful, now unpredictable.
“You knew this was coming,” Deren said without preamble.
“Yes,” Clea replied.
“You did not stop it,” Vellira said.
“I tried.”
“Not hard enough,” Deren growled.
Clea’s eyes flashed. “You’re wrong. I tried too hard. I trained him to resist temptation, to prioritize balance, to feel the island beneath his feet. But you forget—Aiden never chose to be the bridge. The magic chose him.”
“You sound like a zealot,” Merien muttered.
“I sound like someone who watched a miracle form from two broken people in separate worlds.”
“Miracle?” Vellira stood. “He has triggered the beginning of a cascade. If it continues, our sky will fall. Literally.”
“I know the signs.”
“Then you also know the cost.”
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Vellira said, “You will enact the Severance yourself.”
Clea froze. “No.”
“You trained him. You taught him restraint. You claimed responsibility. This is the price.”
“Severance could destroy him.”
“We no longer have the luxury of preservation,” Deren said. “Or sentiment.”
Clea’s hands curled into fists. “I won’t do it.”
“Then you’re no longer a harmonist,” Vellira said coldly.
The council seal pulsed red on Clea’s robe—then faded to ash.
Her breath caught.
They’d stripped her title in seconds.
She wasn’t surprised. Not really. But it still felt like being gutted.
“You’re making a mistake,” she said. “If you sever them now, you won’t just cut Aiden’s magic. You’ll destroy the one thing keeping the veil from collapsing entirely.”
Vellira arched an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”
“Hope.”
They said nothing.
Clea turned on her heel and left without bowing.
Outside the Hall, she moved quickly through the skybridges, her steps brisk as the wind howled higher. Already, the floating terraces were trembling. Lanterns flickered. Cores dimmed.
It was starting.
But she wasn’t going to let it end like this.
She reached her sanctum—a place beneath the northern spire where she kept f*******n maps, resonance diagrams, and ancient scrolls long denied by the Council. The moment she closed the door, she activated her personal veillock and opened a coded portal.
The screen shimmered.
She typed fast.
Protocol Override: Veiltrace
Subject: Aiden Halloway
Current Status: Crossed
Projected Collapse: 76 hours
Secondary Target: Lena Sorrell (Earth Origin)
Outcome: Fusion potential at 73%
She stared at the final line.
Fusion.
Not destruction.
Not severance.
A merging.
Clea exhaled. “They don’t need separation,” she whispered. “They need completion.”
She opened a second console, locked it with her old harmonist sigil—now unauthorized—and sent a single encrypted message through the breach:
To Aiden and Lena: Don’t run. Don’t hide. The veil won’t survive without you. But neither will you without each other.
Then she reached for her old staff, still etched with the glyphs of unity.
She was no longer a Council harmonist.
But she was something far more dangerous now.
A rogue.
And the last one who still believed in the bridge.
- Writer
