We reached my lands on the fourth day, the familiar contours of the southern marches spreading before us as we crested the final hill. My keep rose in the distance—a modest stone structure that had housed Greywers for generations, neither imposing nor insignificant. Like our family itself, it had once been more than it now appeared.

  What I hadn't realized—not until my blood awakened to the currents—was why my ancestors had chosen this particular location. As we approached, I felt it: a convergence point directly beneath the keep, smaller than the palace nexus but remarkably well-preserved. Currents flowed through it in natural patterns, undisturbed by commercial extraction or artificial redirection.

  "You feel it," Morgana observed quietly as we approached the gates. "The patterns of your response indicate recognition of familiar resonance."

  "The keep sits on a convergence," I confirmed. "Not a major one, but significant. Did you know?"

  "We suspected. Historical records indicated Ley Line Walker bloodlines typically established residences at points of natural power. Your family chose wisely—this convergence remains relatively untapped by commercial interests."

  Which explained, perhaps, why the Phoenix was so interested in gaining access to my lands. Not just for my bloodline abilities, but for the untouched currents beneath my ancestral home.

  Mother greeted us in the courtyard, her composure perfect even as her eyes assessed our unexpected companions with razor precision. Her gaze lingered longest on Sister Wrenna, recognition and distaste flashing briefly across her features before being masked by courtly politeness.

  "The Phoenix sends its agents openly now," she observed as we retired to her private sitting room, safely away from Wrenna's perfect hearing. "A change in strategy that suggests desperation."

  "You recognize her type?" I asked, still coming to terms with my mother's apparent knowledge of matters I'd only recently discovered.

  "I recognize the emptiness behind the perfection," she replied. "The Phoenix has employed such constructs for generations. Beautiful vessels housing borrowed consciousness, perfect for observation and enforcement."

  The casual way she referenced Phoenix methodologies I'd only begun to understand confirmed what I'd suspected since my awakening began. My mother knew far more about the current network, Ley Line Walker bloodlines, and the Phoenix Collective than she'd ever acknowledged.

  "You might have mentioned any of this before I stumbled blindly into a Phoenix recruitment attempt," I said, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

  "Would you have believed me?" She raised an eyebrow. "Without the serum awakening your blood? Without experiencing the currents yourself? Some knowledge cannot be gifted, only discovered."

  She had a point, irritating as it was to admit. The man I'd been before the blue serum entered my veins would have dismissed such talk as superstition or delusion. I needed to feel the currents myself before I could accept their reality.

  "Now that I've discovered it," I said carefully, "perhaps you could fill in some gaps in my understanding."

  Mother studied me for a long moment, then rose and crossed to an ornate cabinet that had stood in her chambers for as long as I could remember. From its depths, she withdrew a leather-bound journal that showed signs of considerable age.

  "Your father's," she said, handing it to me. "And his father's before him, back seven generations. Not a complete record of Ley Line Walker knowledge—much was lost during the Purge—but enough to guide your awakening if studied carefully."

  I took the journal with reverence appropriate to a family heirloom I'd never known existed. "You kept this hidden all these years?"

  "The Phoenix Collective has systematically eliminated or corrupted historical Ley Line Walker knowledge for generations," she replied. "What little remains stays hidden for good reason." She glanced toward the window. "And now we have one of their perfect watchers beneath our roof."

  "An unavoidable compromise," I admitted. "The alternative was immediate detainment for 'research purposes.'"

  Mother's expression darkened. "I know what their research entails. Your father's cousin underwent their 'protocols' thirty years ago. What returned to us bore his face but little else."

  Another piece of family history I'd never been told. How much had been kept from me under the guise of protection?

  "The journal will help you understand why our family settled here," Mother continued. "This convergence beneath the keep is small but significant—a node on the natural network your ancestors helped create. The Greywers were never the most powerful Ley Line Walker bloodline, but they specialized in something the Phoenix now desperately needs."

  "Current harmonization," I said, remembering what Whitehall had told me. "Flow dynamics."

  "Balance," she corrected. "The ability to sense when currents were becoming unstable and restore their natural rhythms. Healing the network rather than merely exploiting it."

  I opened the journal carefully, finding pages filled with diagrams and notes written in multiple hands—generation after generation adding their observations and experiences. Some pages contained drawings that resembled the blue patterns that had marked my skin, alongside instruction for meditation and perception exercises.

  "These are training sequences," I realized. "Methods for developing control over bloodline abilities."

  "Basic ones," Mother confirmed. "The advanced techniques were closely guarded, passed directly from master to apprentice. Much was lost when the last fully-trained Ley Line Walkers were removed from court."

  I flipped through the pages, finding a detailed map of our lands with markings that corresponded to energy flows I'd begun to sense. My ancestors had mapped the currents beneath their territory with remarkable precision, noting seasonal variations and connection points to the broader network.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "This is why the Chancellor sent Sister Wrenna," I said. "Not just to watch me, but to assess this convergence."

  "The Phoenix knows the primary wells are failing," Mother agreed. "They seek alternatives—untapped sources or new methods of extraction. Your bloodline abilities combined with an undepleted convergence represent exactly what they need."

  "And what the Twilight Covenant seeks to protect," I added, studying her reaction.

  A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "I wondered when Vale would find you. She's been tracking Ley Line Walker bloodlines for decades—gathering fragments of knowledge the Phoenix thought destroyed."

  "You knew about the Covenant too?" I couldn't keep the accusation from my voice. "Is there anything you haven't kept from me?"

  "Many things," she replied calmly. "Most of which you still aren't ready to hear."

  Before I could press further, a knock at the door announced Willem's arrival. "Sister Wrenna is requesting a tour of the grounds," he reported, his weathered face conveying exactly what he thought of that idea. "Says she needs to 'assess environmental compatibility factors' for the research team."

  Mother's expression hardened. "She seeks to map the convergence. Standard Phoenix preliminary procedure."

  "I can hardly refuse," I pointed out. "Not if we're maintaining the pretense of cooperation."

  "Then limit her access," Mother advised. "The western gardens sit above the weakest part of the convergence. The eastern cellars, however..."

  "Should remain off-limits," I finished for her. "At least until I better understand what lies beneath them."

  Willem nodded his understanding. "I'll make sure the eastern wing remains conveniently under repair during her stay."

  As he departed to deliver our carefully measured cooperation, I turned back to Mother. "How long have you known what I am? What our family really was?"

  She twisted the emerald signet that never left her finger—the ring I'd always assumed was merely a family heirloom. "I knew the history, of course. All Greywers are told the stories once they come of age. But the abilities... those had grown so weak through the generations that many considered them merely legends."

  "Until the blue serum accelerated my awakening," I said.

  "Even before that," she replied quietly. "You showed signs from childhood, Magius. Subtle ones—finding water sources during droughts, instinctively avoiding areas where currents were disturbed. Your father recognized the patterns but died before he could begin your formal training."

  Another revelation that shifted my understanding of my past. How many moments that I'd attributed to luck or intuition had actually been my bloodline responding to currents I couldn't yet consciously perceive?

  "The journal will guide your initial development," Mother continued, rising to leave. "But true mastery would require training by someone already skilled in the art. Perhaps these Sisters of yours preserve some of the old methods."

  "They preserve fragments," I admitted. "Each specializing in different aspects of Ley Line Walker techniques. But even they acknowledge their knowledge is incomplete."

  Mother paused at the door. "Fragments may be all that remain, Magius. The Phoenix has been thorough in their elimination of competing methodologies. Whatever you can learn, learn quickly. They won't allow you to develop your abilities at leisure once they understand your potential."

  After she left, I spent hours with the journal, absorbing the accumulated wisdom of generations of Ley Line Walkers who had lived and died on these lands. The exercises described seemed simple—meditation techniques focused on perceiving currents, breathing patterns that aligned with natural flows, visualization methods for understanding convergence structures.

  Yet behind the simplicity lay profound complexity. My ancestors had developed an entire framework for interacting with energy systems that commercial extraction methods now ignored or actively disrupted. Their approach emphasized harmony and sustainability rather than maximum yield—working with currents rather than depleting them.

  Late that evening, I found myself in the western garden where Sister Wrenna had spent much of the afternoon taking measurements. The currents beneath this part of the grounds were indeed weaker, as Mother had suggested, but still perceptible to my developing senses.

  I seated myself on a stone bench and attempted one of the simpler exercises from the journal—a breathing technique designed to synchronize my awareness with the current's natural rhythm. The blue patterns that had become my constant companions pulsed gently beneath my skin as I found the matching cadence.

  "Remarkable attunement for one with minimal training," Hekate observed, materializing from the garden shadows with silent grace. "Thy bloodline responds to the currents with natural affinity."

  "Not enough to actually do anything useful," I replied. "Just enough to make me valuable to people who would use me as a tool."

  "All power begins as potential," she said, settling beside me with formal dignity. "The Sisters can guide thy development along safer paths than those the Phoenix would impose."

  "Through what arrangement?" I asked. "Whitehall's research team arrives in a week. Wrenna watches my every move. Even if I wanted to reject the Phoenix offer outright, I've merely postponed the moment of truth."

  "Then we use that time wisely," Hekate replied. "Not to force abilities that require years to master, but to establish foundations that will serve thee regardless of what comes."

  She produced a small token from within her habit—a disk of some unknown metal etched with patterns that matched those in my family journal. "Place this beneath thy bed. It will attune to thy bloodline during sleep, strengthening connection while shielding detection."

  I accepted the token, feeling a subtle resonance with the blue patterns beneath my skin. "Morgana calculates we have a week at most before the Phoenix realizes I'm stalling."

  "Then a week must suffice for initial preparation." Hekate's pale eyes reflected moonlight as she glanced toward the keep. "The convergence beneath thy home remembers thy bloodline. It will respond more readily to thy attempts than foreign sites would."

  "And Sister Wrenna?"

  "Circe has prepared methods to occupy her attention periodically," Hekate replied with the faintest suggestion of amusement. "Perception-altering compounds that leave no trace but create most interesting distractions."

  The thought of Circe's concoctions being used on the perfect Phoenix observer brought a smile to my lips despite the gravity of our situation. "And after the week is up? When I can no longer delay the Phoenix team?"

  "One step before the next," Hekate counseled, echoing Vale's words. "Tonight, learn to listen to the convergence beneath thy feet. Tomorrow, perhaps it begins to whisper back."

  As darkness settled over my ancestral lands, I felt the weight of generations pressing upon me—Ley Line Walker blood awakening after decades of dormancy, confronting threats my ancestors had faced and ultimately lost against. Yet something had survived in our line, protected and passed down through journals and signet rings and lands deliberately chosen for the currents that flowed beneath them.

  Not enough knowledge to immediately challenge the Phoenix Collective's dominance, perhaps. But seeds that might, with proper nurturing, grow into something that could change the balance of power that had defined magical practice for generations.

  The blue patterns pulsed beneath my skin, responding to my resolve or perhaps to currents deeper than those I could yet perceive. Either way, I had found purpose beyond maintaining appearances or protecting borders. My blood connected me to systems older than the kingdom itself—systems that were failing under the weight of exploitation and control.

  One step before the next, as both Vale and Hekate had counseled. Tonight, I would learn to listen. Tomorrow would bring challenges enough of its own.

  Volume 1 End