Page 31 of She Who Was Severed

Kellen says nothing until I’ve finished half the parcel.

Then, quiet: “Not going to lie. That was a little terrifying.”

I pause, chew, then give him a flat look. “You’re lucky I didn’t bite your hand.”

His mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. But not not a smile.

“Mental note,” he says. “Feed Freya first. Then talk.”

Something loosens in my chest.

The food settles. The tower feels less like a tomb and more like a cave. Still ruined. Still forgotten. But not hostile.

I lean back against the wall. Wipe my fingers on the edge of my cloak. Let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Kellen watches me. Not like he’s waiting for something. Just like he’s here.

“So,” he says. “Training?”

“Trying.”

I tap the page. The diagram of the Rootform spiral glows faintly under my touch. The chain shifts along my wrist in agreement. Kellen’s eyes follow the movement. He doesn’t comment.

“Are you getting better?” he asks.

I snort. “I didn’t knock myself unconscious this time. That’s progress.”

“That’s impressive. I’ve seen initiates light their eyebrows off doing less.”

I grin despite myself. “Did you?”

“Stormbound twins. Year above me. One of them thought he could call lightning from a cup of rainwater. Didn’t go well.”

I laugh. Real. Small. But it’s mine.

Kellen’s watching me like he’s memorizing the sound.

And suddenly, I can’t meet his eyes.

“Why did you really come?” I ask.

He looks down. Then up. “Because you shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

My chest tightens.

“I’m not exactly popular right now.”

“I’m not here because you’re popular.”

I swallow. Hard.

The chain hums again. Not warning. Not flaring. Just there.

Kellen leans back on his hands. Lets his head tilt toward the fading sky.

“You’re not what they say you are.”

“I might be.”