Artur Greymantle's Arc

Chapter 7 of 12

Artur woke to footsteps on the path outside his cottage. He knew the sound before he reached the window—measured, unhurried, the kind of steps that suggested the walker had already decided what they would find. Xidan appeared through the morning mist, his robes dark against the pale light. Artur opened the door before Xidan could knock. The man carried something wrapped in cloth—a circular stone platform etched with glowing runes. Artur recognized the pattern. It matched the bridge he'd built on his workbench, the one he'd used to pull the coin from suspension. "You already know," Artur said. Xidan set the platform down on the step. "I felt it when the bond shifted," he said. "The firebird pulled something across. I wanted to see if you understood what that meant." Artur looked past him to the edge of the clearing. A crystalline fragment hung in the air above the path, spinning slowly, catching the morning light in shades of blue and violet. It hadn't been there yesterday. "How long have you been watching?" Artur asked. Xidan glanced at the fragment. "Since you hatched it. The firebird leaves traces when it moves between states. So do you, now that you're bound to it." Artur wanted to send him away, but the platform on his doorstep made that impossible. Xidan had brought the exact tool Artur would need to strengthen the apparatus—a ritual dais designed to anchor dual-state transitions. He couldn't have known about the coin test unless he'd been close enough to sense the bond's movement. "What do you want?" Artur asked. Xidan met his eyes. "I want you to succeed. My daughter died because I couldn't stabilize the bridge. Yours is still suspended. If you can pull her back, then the work wasn't wasted." The words landed like stones. Artur had known Xidan failed, but he hadn't known why. The statue at Swampwatch Tower—the man with the firebird—it hadn't been Xidan himself. It had been carved for someone else. "You're not here to help," Artur said. "You're here to see if I can finish what you started." Xidan didn't deny it. He turned and walked back down the path, leaving the platform and the crystalline fragment behind. Artur stood in the doorway and watched him disappear into the mist. The fragment kept spinning, marking the space where the firebird's bond had touched the world. Artur picked up the platform and carried it inside. It was heavier than it looked, carved from stone that felt warm under his hands. He set it on the workbench next to the coin. The runes along its edge pulsed once, then settled into a steady glow. Xidan had given him the next piece, but the cost was knowing he'd never been working alone. Every step forward had been watched, measured, compared to a failure that came before. Artur opened his journal and began sketching how the platform would fit into the apparatus. The bridge was possible. But whether it could hold his daughter's weight was still unknown, and now he understood that Xidan would be there when he tried.