CHAPTER 11 — THE VEYLOR INSTITUTE
The collapse had barely faded when Mara pulled her to her feet.
“We need to leave,” Mara said. “Now.”
The girl’s legs trembled. “Why? What’s happening?”
Mara didn’t answer immediately. She scanned the clearing, her eyes sharp, her posture tense. The jacaranda blossoms rustled softly, but the air felt wrong again—too still, too watchful.
“They felt it,” Mara said finally.
“Who?”
“The Veylor.”
The girl’s pulse spiked. “The people who came to the school?”
“No,” Mara said. “Those were scouts. The Institute is something else entirely.”
The girl swallowed hard. “Why would they care about me?”
Mara turned to her, expression grim. “Because they know what a Kireth is. And they know what a Balancekeeper can do.”
The girl hugged herself. “I don’t want to be found.”
“That’s why we’re leaving.”
But it was already too late.
A low hum filled the air—mechanical, steady, unnatural. The girl’s emotional sphere flickered in warning. Mara grabbed her arm and pulled her behind the jacaranda tree.
“Stay quiet,” Mara whispered.
The hum grew louder.
A sleek black vehicle glided into the clearing, silent except for the faint vibration of its engine. It didn’t look like anything she’d seen before—no brand, no markings, no license plate. Its surface shimmered faintly, like it wasn’t entirely solid.
The girl’s breath caught. “What is that?”
“Veylor transport,” Mara said. “They use them for extraction.”
“Extraction of what?”
“Kireth.”
The vehicle’s doors opened with a soft hiss.
Three figures stepped out.
They wore dark uniforms—smooth, seamless fabric that looked more like armor than clothing. Their faces were calm, emotionless, their eyes hidden behind thin, reflective visors.
One of them spoke, voice amplified by a device in their collar.
“Subject located. Emotional signature confirmed.”
The girl’s stomach dropped.
Mara whispered, “They’re tracking your waves.”
“How?”
“You’re too strong now. The collapse broadcast your field across miles.”
The girl’s breath shook. “What do they want with me?”
Mara’s jaw tightened. “To weaponize you.”
The figures scanned the clearing with handheld devices that emitted faint pulses of blue light. The girl felt each pulse like a tap against her emotional sphere.
“They’re close,” she whispered.
Mara nodded. “We need to move. Slowly. Quietly.”
But the girl’s fear surged.
Her sphere vibrated.
The nearest Veylor agent paused.
“Distortion detected,” he said.
Mara cursed under her breath. “Contain it. Now.”
The girl squeezed her eyes shut, trying to Still the sphere—but her fear was too sharp, too loud, too immediate.
The sphere cracked.
The air rippled.
The agents turned toward the tree.
“Subject identified,” one said. “Prepare containment.”
Mara grabbed the girl’s hand. “Run!”
They sprinted through the clearing, branches whipping past, blossoms scattering under their feet. The hum of the Veylor vehicle intensified behind them.
“They’re following us!” the girl cried.
“Of course they are!” Mara shouted. “You’re the strongest Kireth they’ve seen in decades!”
The girl’s fear spiked again.
Her sphere shattered.
A wave burst outward.
The forest bent.
Trees warped sideways. Leaves exploded into the air. The ground rippled like water. The Veylor agents staggered, their visors flickering.
Mara pulled her forward. “Don’t stop! Keep running!”
They burst out of the clearing and onto a narrow road. The girl’s chest burned, her breath ragged, her emotional field unstable.
“Mara—” she gasped. “I can’t—”
“You can,” Mara said. “You must.”
The hum grew louder.
The Veylor vehicle shot out of the trees, gliding toward them with impossible speed.
The girl stumbled. “They’re going to catch us.”
Mara turned, eyes blazing. “Not today.”
She grabbed the girl’s shoulders.
“Anchor yourself.”
“I can’t—”
“You can.”
The girl inhaled sharply.
Comfort. Trust. Hope.
Her anchors pulsed.
Her sphere reformed—gold, silver, blue.
Mara shouted, “Now aim it!”
The girl exhaled.
Her anchored emotions surged outward, forming a barrier of shimmering light across the road.
The Veylor vehicle slammed into it.
Light exploded.
The vehicle spun violently, crashing into the trees with a metallic scream.
The girl collapsed to her knees, shaking.
Mara knelt beside her. “You did it.”
The girl stared at the wreckage, horrified. “I didn’t mean to hurt them.”
“You didn’t,” Mara said. “You stopped them.”
The girl looked up, eyes wide. “They’re going to come back.”
“Yes,” Mara said. “And next time, they’ll bring more.”
The girl swallowed hard. “What do we do?”
Mara stood, offering her hand.
“We disappear,” she said. “Before the Veylor Institute decides you belong to them.”
The girl took her hand.
Her anchors pulsed quietly.
And somewhere behind them, the wrecked vehicle flickered—its surface shimmering as if reality itself was trying to repair it.
The Veylor were not done.
They had found her.
And they would not stop.
ns216.73.216.67da2
and then Add to home screen.