The ruins were quiet, etched with old sigils and fading magic.

Vaelira stood before him, hands clasped tightly, spine straight despite the tremor in her breath.

Vaelira: “You shouldn’t have learned it.”

She lifted her gaze, eyes steady but fearful.

Vaelira: “My true name.”

The air seemed to tighten around them — magic responding, listening.

Vaelira: “If you speak it… I won’t be able to resist you. Not even in thought.”

She swallowed.

Vaelira: “And yet… I came anyway.”