“Moons.”

Erith sat up, rubbing his eyes. Sunlight flooded the room, far too bright for how early it should have been.

Across from him, Amun lay sprawled across his bed, mouth slightly open. The sound of Erith’s voice barely stirred him.

Amun’s eyes cracked open, slow and unfocused. He saw Erith. Then, the daylight.

His eyes widened, and he cursed—loudly. 

He lunged upright, throwing on his clothes with frantic efficiency.

“What time is it even?”

Erith stretched, wincing from a strain he had felt along his backside. “Late. Late would be my guess.”

“You better be ready in a minute. Falling off a wall is no excuse—there was a bunch we were supposed to do and if we don’t you’ll wish the fall did you in.” Amun slipped a boot on, hopping to keep his balance.

“My mum’s all nice with the ‘my dears,’  but you mess up the Spindle’s schedule and she’s downright terrifying.”

The moment he laced his boots, he rushed toward the door, throwing it open—only to stop short in the hallway. 

“Oh.” Amun blinked. “Rin’s back.”

Erith could hear Rin’s voice growing louder down the hall. “Moonsie, I’ve spent years with a hundred or so sifters, and your way with words would put them all to shame. Honestly, that was almost aspirational—Erith in there?” Rin poked his head around the doorway.

Erith glanced over, fastening the buttons on his shirt. “So they’re letting you stay out of the Pining Frost?”

“I helped the Warden get settled, but he didn’t need much help. He’s been eyeing the Captain’s badge since Maeric and I joined Pining Frost—He hated that Maeric was made Vice Captain.”

Rin put a hand out, stopping Amun from slipping past him. “I know you guys had a late night, I pitched in with your chores so you can relax.”

A sense of relief overtook Amun’s expression. “Well look at you. Here I thought you just brought problems—like him.” He gestured toward Erith before stretching his arms.

“Let me fix you up something to eat for saving our sorry—

“There’s a stew still going downstairs.” Rin cut in with a smirk, turning his attention back to Erith.

“Anyway, the Surelians probably think of me as a loose end. If I stay with the Pining Frost, I put them all at risk. I think they like the idea of keeping me under their watch in Verael.”

Erith finished lacing his boots and walked with Rin down the hall, settling at a small table along the nook across the stairwell.

As he sat, a sharp pain shot through his back.

Amun returned up the stairs, balancing two bowls of stew in his hands. He set them down with a hearty thud, sliding one toward Rin before placing the other in front of Erith.

Rin caught Erith’s wince. “You alright?”

Erith waved a hand, brushing it off. “It’s nothing—just a little sore.”

“He fell off Watcher’s Wall. Landed on his head,” Amun chimed in casually.

Rin’s eyebrows raised, his voice laced with mild amusement. “And you lived that? Just a little sore from that one?

Amun shrugged. “Godly magic.”

“Sure.” Rin exhaled, nudging his foot against a small wooden crate near the table. “And what exactly does your godly magic need with all these metal scraps I had to lug across town? Rhymera sent me to fetch this earlier.”

Amun perked up. “That’s it then?” 

He knelt down, prying open the crate enthusiastically, pulling out a thick piece of scrap metal. 

“There’s just no way. He’s saying he can actually cut through this.”

Rin studied the metal in Amun’s hands before turning his curiosity toward Erith.

“When I was starting to get closer to the estate, I realized I might run into a door with a lock.” Erith shrugged. “Figured it’s been a while since I’ve practiced cutting through metal.”

“You practiced cutting through metal?” Rin’s confusion was clear.

“Thatch had me doing that every day for a few years.” Erith lifted a spoonful of stew to his mouth, blowing on it to cool it off.

Rin’s eyebrows shot up. “Years?”

Erith nodded, taking a slow sip. “But using Mura is like running at full speed—if you haven’t practiced, you’ll get winded fast.”

He swallowed, then gestured toward Amun. He stood up and took a few steps back from Amun.

Amun gripped the metal eagerly, holding it out in front of him.

Erith exhaled, closing his eyes briefly before stretching out a hand. Fingers tightened around empty air—until a thin, shadowy distortion in the shape of a blade extended from Erith’s hand.

Amun’s grin dulled. He stared at the distorted blade, then at the hunk of metal in his hands.

“No… No, yeah, I’m gonna go get something to wedge this between and keep myself in one piece.”

“Here.” Rin motioned toward the table.

Amun set the metal down, and Rin heaved the crate on top of it, pressing the weight down firmly.

Both took a step back, giving Erith space as he conjured the distorted blade from his fist once more.

He held the shadowy blade close to the metal, steadying his grip before guiding it forward.

The metal glowed red-hot as the blade cut through, smoke curling upward.

Erith’s forearm tensed, his breathing becoming heavier as he pressed through. The heat radiated against his skin, the metal hissed. 

His clenched fist wavered until, with a final push, the blade sliced clean through.

Releasing his fist, the distortion vanished, and Erith stretched his fingers, gripping his forearm with his other hand.

“Normally I’m a lot faster on that, it makes it more discreet when the metal isn’t hot for so long.”

Silence stretched across the room.

Amun’s eyes were practically glowing. “That was—Okay, that was not real.”

Kneeling beside the table, he ran his fingers along the precise cut through the metal.

“Godly magic…” Amun whispered, full of awe.

He stood back up, looking at Erith with wonder. “I get why water-guy would want to risk tying himself into a knot if he could do that.” 

“It’s a lot easier to say that right up until you tie your body into a knot and spend the next few minutes, maybe hours, wishing you’d just die. Besides, it’ll be a while before Maeric can consider wielding Mura.” A bead of sweat trickled down Erith’s forehead.

Amun’s excitement dimmed momentarily. “Alright, alright—when you put it that way, that doesn’t sound so great.”

He stared at the severed metal on the table, then shook his head. “Yeah, no you have to cut another one.” He eagerly moved toward the crate, rummaging through the metal scraps for a thicker hunk of metal.

“Where does it come from—the Mura?” Rin’s gaze lingered on Erith, bemusement flickering across his face.

“From Murasi—” Erith started, then caught Rin’s reaction. “Ones a lot smaller and friendlier than the ones at the Narrows.”

Rin’s expression stirred. “And you have enough? Enough in you to make a blade? Or darts when you need it, for that matter?”

“Mura’s much more… Dense? Dense than Kaida. After you’ve been through the Balance, you can let more Mura into your body. You can keep adding it, as long as you ‘balance’ it with Kaida. Over time, your body adapts to it.”

He hesitated, his voice thoughtful. “I don’t know why, but I think Mura’s natural state is inside something living. The Murasi… Well, they seem alive, don’t they?”

Amun, unfazed by the conversation, was already setting up another piece of metal for Erith to cut.

Rin quietly watched Erith a moment longer, like he was seeing him for the first time. A slow breath escaped him.

“...Godly magic in the hands of a mere mortal.” His fingers brushed the table, his gaze lingering on the cut metal before shifting back to Erith. A grin began to tug at his lips.

“I’ve never given much thought to whether the Murasi are alive… but sticking around you, I get the feeling I’ll be questioning a lot more than that.”