Chapter 15 – The Covenant of Bones

The lanterns of Selvareth's inner sanctum burned low, their phosphorescent glow mingling with the sunlight that filtered through the open colonnades. Velastra lay upon a dais of woven reeds and healing silk, her black dress replaced by simple white linens, her wounds freshly cleansed.

Orion watched her from the circle of prayerstones, eyes stern beneath his antler-circlet. In his hand, he held an aged grimoire of Oath‑Arcana Chants—a book of binding prayers that forced souls to speak true or shatter.

"You've abused your body, Velastra," he began, voice low as drifted ash. "Wresting pleasure when your spirit should mend only in silence and solitude. Sex now will tear the roots of your soul, as the scars will feed with your released flame energy, unravelling what I have threaded these months."

Velastra closed her eyes, smiled and answered "My nourished heart will give my soul the strength to gather energies again, maybe this time, faster?"

Orion's gaze did not waver. He set the grimoire on a rune‑carved stand and opened to a page whose ink glimmered like spun silver.

"Then, Iet's try," he said flatly. " And in whisper, almost silent, he begin...

"With an oath that you—and only Cael—shall share. A covenant of bone and soul."

He began to chant, louder now but still unclear to Velastra's ears, an ancient prayer of oath‑arcana curse that twisted the air. Velastra cannot understand his words, alarmed.

"What are you doing?"

"Healing," he replied, voice cold as mountain ice.

Then, Velastra closed her eyes and was focused again.

Orion sprinkled a powder of crushed moonroot and star‑weave over her hands, then guided her fingers to trace the runes in the grimoire. The chant grew louder, the floor runes beneath them flaring red.

In that moment, Velastra felt a shock not at her back—but in her core. A tether yanked tight. And in that tether… she somehow heard Cael scream out of pain.

Her heart stuttered. She looked to Orion, but his eyes were still, unreadable. Fearsome in silence.

When the chant ended, the runes dimmed. Velastra rose unsteadily, testing her limbs—and realized everytime she drew near the sanctum's exit. The face of Cael being in pain echoes.

"Step beyond Selvareth, and Cael's soul-bones shall break in agony." Orion warned.

Her blood ran cold. She rushed to Orion, her eyes flared with anger. However, the healer remained calmed and with no trace of fear nor furry, he let Velastra point her sword to his throat.

Her eyes turned gray.

"You tricked me," she gasped.

Orion looked at her with respect.

"I bound you to protect you and him. Your healing had to be absolute. Because if this keeps up, sooner, the Veytashil wounds will become your curse, that will brought eternal separation of you and Cael."

Orion paused.

"Veytashil wounds feeds with your released flame energy and will only makes you weak as you are protected by your mother's Gawis curse, making the Veytashil wounds find it's way to eat others flame energy."

Velastra put her sword down. She looked at him with dangerous seeking. Then, she commanded, "continue."

Orion take a bow and continue his words...

"In your union, as the Gawis curse pulse to protect you, the Veytashil will be feed by Cael's flame energy. This time, the weakness in Cael will not be visible. But if you two will keep doing that thing, soon Cael will become mortal."

Velastra's breath caught in her throat. Her eyes widened, tears welling unbidden as the weight of what she'd done finally broke over her.

"I almost let them succeed."

She pressed a trembling hand to her sword, the knot of dread still pulsing in her chest.

"Father… was really cunning."

Her voice cracked on the word—more than anger, more than betrayal. It was regret, sharp as a blade, admitting that she hadn't been wise enough to see his trap.

She sank to the floor of the sanctum, head bowed, shoulders shaking.

"I almost… I nearly lost him."

Orion knelt beside her, gentle. He did not speak. Instead, he laid a steadying hand on her shoulder, reassuring her that everything is still fine.

Velastra closed her eyes against the tears, anger turned inward at her own blind trust.

"I will never be a fool again," she whispered.

She rose, wiping her cheeks, resolve hardening beneath her fear and anger.

---

Two years passed in that sanctum.

Velastra sat by the healing pool each dusk, chanting the sacred mantras Orion taught, while her thoughts tracked every sunrise back in the east wing—how every step Cael took unguarded, how every night he slept in peace even after her cruelty.

Each time she tried to slip beyond the runes, just to see him nearer, she felt Cael's agony echo through her bones, and she retreated.

She endured. She grew thinner, but the silver salves deepened her strength. Her wounds from Veytashil finally closed. The scars remained faintly visible in moonlight, but no longer burned with cursed pain.

On a dawn hung in frost and starlight, Orion entered the sanctum, face gentle for the first time in years.

"Healed," he declared. "The wounds no longer feeds on your flame energy nor on others."

Velastra's knees buckled, but Orion caught her. She rose, trembling—and for the first time, the tether in her mind was silent.

"You are free," Orion said as he cut his finger and pulled her hand to the runes.

"And you will see Cael soon."

Velastra gray eyes glimmered, the weight lifting from her chest. Two years of isolation, longing, and penance had ended.

"Then I will return," she whispered. "To him."

And with that, she ran, her stance more of a joyous child, not her usual warrior steps.

She stepped across Selvareth's threshold—unbound, scarred, but more devoted than ever.

Orion, aware with the shift of events, watches her leave with an apologizing gaze.