Page 93 of Heart Cradle (The Melrathen Saga #1)

The morning light cast long golden shadows through the open arches of the royal stables.

The scent of hay, old leather, and faint ozone hung in the air.

Jeipier stood just outside the central hall, wings held neatly to his sides.

He wasn’t pacing, but his fluffy tail flicked in rhythm, betraying the nervous energy behind his stillness.

Inside, a circle had formed. Maeve stood beside Eiran, arm brushing his.

Across from them, Orilan, stood arms folded and unreadable.

Yendel and Vaelwyn stood together, the former scribbling, the later studying.

Callix, much younger, brighter-eyed, and notably messier, leaned back against a saddle rail, watching it all with a sort of feral curiosity.

They were here for the Chain, for what it had done, for what it could do.

And Maeve, still wearing it, though it looked more like jewellery than relic now, was the centre of it.

“It didn’t wrap around me because I asked it to,” she said, arms crossed. “It just… responded.”

Callix leaned forwards. “You didn’t intend to summon it?”

“No, but I think…” She glanced towards the dragon in the archway “I think I felt Jeipier’s fear, and it responded to that.”

“ Can I speak out loud?” Jeipier’s voice was soft, uncertain. Young, but steady beneath it.

Maeve turned towards him slightly, head tilted. “You don’t need my permission, Jeipier. It’s your choice.”

He blinked once, then stepped forwards into the stable hall. The room quieted instantly. He sat, regal despite his youth, wings still folded behind him. Then he looked to the others, and for the first time in front of others, spoke aloud.

“When we fly,” Jeipier said, voice smooth and deep with a curious musical cadence, “the Chain sings through her. With words and warmth. Lots of pressure usually and sometimes with flashes of light behind my eyes.”

Eiran stilled beside Maeve and Yendel raised his quill, visibly alert.

Vaelwyn’s eyes gleamed. “It communicates through resonance? ”

Jeipier tilted his head. “Yes, but I also think it feels me through Maeve. We are paired.” He looked at her then, chest swelling with pride. “I don’t know where I end, and she begins.”

Maeve exhaled slowly, then added quietly, “When we flew after the battle, I felt it again. The Chain didn’t just wrap around me, I think it was reaching through me, to him.”

Callix made a small, delighted sound. “Fascinating. The Chain might be evolving via converged magical imprint, essentially adapting to protect the bonded unit as a single source.”

“That,” Yendel muttered, “is a very long way to say ‘it likes her’ young Callix.’”

Orilan didn’t smile, but his posture eased slightly. “Whatever it is, it saved her life.”

Vaelwyn nodded once. “She’s mated, it may want to adapt to the Prince, and it may save others yet. We’ll begin tracing its shift patterns.”

“During the battle,” Maeve went on, “we’d just broken through the southern flank. Avelan casters had regrouped. I could feel it, that they were going to strike.”

She glanced at Jeipier. “Jei felt it too, through the bond.”

Callix nodded, already scribbling.

Maeve raised her wrist slightly. “I didn’t think. I just lifted my blade, and the Chain… reacted.”

Her voice dropped, soft with memory. “The runes flared gold. A rune drew itself from the blade’s edge.

I didn’t know what it meant, but I felt it command.

It detonated mid-air, pure light and force.

Blinded them, I didn’t direct it. I just moved where the Chain pulled me.

” She let the silence breathe. “Then it uncoiled.”

Even Orilan leant forwards at that.

Maeve brushed a hand over her leathers. “The links unspooled like they were alive. They raced up my arms, across my chest, legs and back in serpentine ribbons. Gold and light and runes older than language. It wrapped me in full armour. I didn’t feel heavy.

It felt… right. Like I was being held by something that knew me. ”

Yendel had stopped writing, he was just watching.

“The air around me started to hum. I moved faster than I ever have, saw things before they happened. A blow came at my back and I ducked without seeing it. Not instinct, more like direction, as if the Chain was guiding me.” She looked down at the relic on her wrist. “Like you all said… a guardian.”

Jeipier gave a low chuff. “It guided me too. When I dove, I knew where to strike. Like I saw it through Maeve’s eyes.”

Maeve nodded. “We weren’t just moving together.

We were fighting as one. When I struck at the captains near the centre, the Chain had already lit the path.

When I struck, it didn’t feel like aiming.

It felt like letting go.” She paused. “And they fell, because the Chain knew where to strike, not me.”

The silence in the stable was heavy, awe and joy mingled with a tinge of apprehension. Then Callix, broke it. “That’s… incredible. The Chain may be storing reactive combat algorithms, etched runes that mirror her battle aura.”

Vaelwyn gently raised a hand, eyes still on Maeve. “Or it may simply be sentient.”

Maeve met her gaze.

Orilan’s voice was low. “I think it knew you could return it and it stayed with you once it felt that you’d need it… that we all would need it.”

Yendel finally spoke again. “And if it’s adapting to the bond, then whatever happens when you and Jeipier fly next, it may change again.”

Maeve looked to Jeipier, he was watching her, quietly proud.

“Is it alright if we fly?” she asked, aloud this time. “With everyone watching?”

“Always,” Jeipier said. “When I fly with you, I am never afraid.”

Callix bounded forwards, parchment in hand, already mid-spiel. “Alright, we’re watching for four core variables, response time, rune emergence, energy transference, and dual-channel resonance. Basically, if the Chain glows, pulses, or wraps you in magic, we want to know how and why. Got it?”

Maeve blinked. “So… just fly?”

Callix beamed. “With purpose.”

Eiran stepped in, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “With care, please. ”

Maeve gave a tight nod and turned towards Jeipier, who had already crouched in anticipation. The saddle straps clicked into place. The leather was still new, shaped perfectly to her and Jeipier’s muscles rippled beneath her thighs, warm and steady.

“ You’re nervous”, he said gently, only in her mind.

“ I’m tired, and it’s been a lot, but yes,” she replied, adjusting her jacket. “I’m nervous.”

“ Then let me carry you. We’re in this together.”

She touched the Chain. “ Let’s try it, Jei .”

With a leap and a sweep of red-veined wings, they launched. The stables dropped away beneath them, the air cool and sharp in her lungs. Maeve let him stretch out, circling the Keep, letting him show off in spirals, dips and a sudden upward snap that left her breathless.

She smiled despite herself, but her limbs still ached. Her chest felt tight, too much, too soon.

“Maeve,” Jeipier murmured again, calm. “ You don’t have to be perfect, just with me.”

Her throat tightened. “ Alright then. Let’s do it.”

She raised her wrist, heart hammering, voice low but clear. “Armour… for both of us, please.”

The Chain flared, hot and sudden. Molten gold raced across her arm and chest, down to her boots, then out.

It leapt from her chest to Jeipier’s back, spilling over his shoulders, curling along his wings and down his spine like living flame.

Runes ignited along his sides, glowing against russet scales.

She gasped as it settled, weightless but present, pulsing in sync with their shared heartbeat, and then, together, they soared.

Higher, faster with magic streaming behind them and the sky cracked open with light.

From the training circle below, they all looked up as the sky ignited.

A streak of gold and fire tore across the morning air, two shapes entwined, runes and sigils flaring and fading like lightning made language.

Jeipier dove, wings slicing the wind, his smooth scales now traced in glowing script.

Maeve leaned low in the saddle, golden armour catching the sun, blade sheathed but radiant at her side.

Orilan swore under his breath. “Gods damn me, she will save us all. ”

Callix had dropped his parchment. “That’s… she… she’s syncing full-cycle. On the first flight, this isn’t theoretical anymore, she has to master this.”

“She will,” Eiran said sharply. “The Chain connected with her. She wears it for the realm, she will be our queen one day and she’ll do more than master it. She’ll command it.”

Orilan didn’t argue, he just nodded, eyes still skyward. “She’ll redefine what a monarch looks like.”

Vaelwyn’s voice was calm, analytical. “The Chain hasn’t ever shown sentience. This level of response suggests it’s not only active, but emotionally attuned.”

Yendel, ever thoughtful, added, “Or perhaps the Chain has always been like this, and no bearer before her was ever been enough to draw it out.”

Callix ran a hand through his curls. “If she can do this now… gods. What happens if it keeps growing?”

“Then we prepare for the day she outpaces every weapon the Fae Lands has ever known,” Orilan said quietly. “And pray she stays ours.”

“She will.” Eiran said full of pride.

Above them, Maeve and Jeipier twisted into a final arc, runes trailing like banners behind them, and began to descend.

They landed with barely a gust, Jeipier’s claws kissing the earth in a graceful crouch, his woolly tail, now spiked with armour, curling behind him like a frayed ribbon spun from flame.

Maeve remained seated for a moment, chest rising and falling beneath the armour’s soft golden glow.

The Chain still shimmered across her frame, no longer blazing, but alive, etched in faintly spinning runes that moved like breath.

Jeipier’s plating pulsed with the same script, draped like flowing chainmail over his limbs and chest. Runes still floating around them and the others.

Yendel stepped forwards, eyes wide, scanning the armour with methodical care.

His fingers danced as he traced runes and sigils mid-air.

“This is not fae-forged,” he murmured. “This is, something older. Look at the continuity, this script is forming complete, shifting lines. As if it’s, still writing.

It looks as if it’s been formed by the gods. ”

Callix circled Jeipier, practically vibrating. “It’s like chainmail but seamless, look at this, woven so fine it looks solid, and the floating runes, gods, they’re trailing as if she’s still moving. ”

Vaelwyn didn’t speak, she simply stepped close, placed one palm flat against the plating on Jeipier’s armoured leg, and closed her eyes. Her lips moved in silence.

Eiran stepped forwards and reached up, offering his hand to Maeve. She took it without hesitation, and he helped her down gently. Her boots hit the earth with the faintest clang of metal still lingering in the soles, he kissed her deeply.

Orilan approached last, hands behind his back.

“Well,” he said dryly, “if you’re not the most terrifying glow-worm I’ve ever seen.”

Maeve snorted, eyes rolling. “Royal approval at last.”

He stepped closer, placing both hands on her shoulders.

The joke slipped away from his face. “You are important… precious, very precious but don’t let anyone coddle you, not even him.

” He nodded towards Eiran, who raised an eyebrow in response.

“You’re not meant to be soft. You’re meant to be brilliant, dangerous… reckless, even.”

His hands tightened just slightly. “So fight hard, Maeve. Be the fucking storm. Let the Chain follow you, not you it.”

Then, without waiting, he kissed her on each cheek and turned on his heel. The group stood in stunned silence as he strode back towards the keep.

Callix let out a breath. “That was very rousing, incredibly regal.”

Eiran looked down at Maeve, fingers brushing the edge of her gauntlet. “That was your coronation.”