The storm of divine revelation had passed.
For now.
They had set up camp on the edge of the Sankhya Depths—just far enough from the collapsed temple to feel safe, but close enough that the golden sigils from Eloryn's awakening still shimmered faintly in the air like afterimages of a dream.
The group sat in a rough circle around a small flame conjured by Lys using a word from a language only stars remembered. Fenn, however, was very much in the mood for normalcy.
"So," Fenn announced, holding up a stick like a baton, "you're the Avatar of Time and Destiny and Unreasonable Glowiness. Cool. But can you do this?"
She attempted a one-handed cartwheel.
And promptly landed in a heap, narrowly missing Lys's cloak and Pennrick's cooking pot.
Eloryn blinked. "Is… this a training exercise?"
"It is now," Fenn said, dusting herself off and grinning. "Welcome to Fenn's Extremely Professional Combat Calibration & Tactical Time Testing. Patent pending."
Pennrick raised an eyebrow. "You're making this up as you go."
"Exactly," Fenn replied proudly. "The truest form of science."
Eloryn couldn't help but laugh. The tension eased from her shoulders like steam lifting from morning grass. "Alright, Professor Fenn. What's lesson one?"
"Right. First," Fenn said, grabbing two sticks and pretending they were crossed swords, "we need to know what your powers actually do. So far, I've seen you stop evil time snakes, summon god-light, and glow like a celestial lamp."
Pennrick interjected, "Technically, she's tapping into Mahākāla consciousness through Kaal Bhairav's essence—"
Fenn raised a hand. "Penn. Buddy. Friend. I love you, but if you say one more beautiful, encyclopedic word, I will throw a rock at you."
Pennrick wisely nodded and resumed stirring stew.
Eloryn closed her eyes and focused.
"I can feel… echoes. Possibilities. Every version of myself that could have been. It's like standing in the center of a storm made of decisions. If I reach the right one… I can pull it forward."
Fenn nodded sagely. "So you're like a walking, talking, metaphysical 'What If' machine."
Lys added, "She's accessing quantum soul state layering."
"See, that's the kind of sentence that gets rocks," Fenn muttered.
Maren, who'd remained silent until now, spoke up from the shadows. "She's becoming more than human. The question is… will she stay herself?"
The camp quieted.
Eloryn looked at her hands—faint threads of golden light still pulsed under the skin, like divine veins.
"I don't know," she admitted. "But I hope so."
Silence settled.
Then Fenn slapped her knees. "Right! Time for combat drills."
"What kind of drills?" Eloryn asked.
"The fun kind," Fenn said. "Where I try to trip you with sarcasm and flying fruit, and you try to not rewrite history by accident."
Pennrick sighed. "I'm going to need more stew."
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