Theon’s source finally stirred after several days of deep sleep, their body slowly awakening to the crisp, cool air of the rural mountains of Arius. The estate, nestled deep within the dense forest, stood in eerie silence, the towering pines swaying gently with the wind. Sunlight filtered through the thick canopy, casting long shadows across the stone walls of the secluded manor. Inside, the scent of damp earth and aged wood lingered, a constant reminder of the estate’s ancient roots.

Theon watched silently from a nearby chair, his sharp eyes fixed on the source’s face, noting the faint tension in their features as they transitioned from unconsciousness to awareness. The bond tugged at him, a subtle pull that had grown more insistent the longer they had been apart. He felt their heartbeat steady, their magic wells still faint but slowly returning to their usual hum beneath the surface. He remained composed, his expression unreadable, though the relief within him was undeniable.

“Finally awake,” his voice was low, carrying the weight of patience and control.

Outside, the distant rustling of leaves and the soft trickle of a nearby stream were the only sounds accompanying the heavy stillness that surrounded them. Theon's mind lingered on the marks—the first one now fully embedded in their connection, drawing them closer, and the second looming on the horizon, promising even deeper entanglement.