The wind had softened.
They camped at the edge of a cliff that overlooked a glacier lake, the ice sheet below cracked like ancient stained glass. Stars shimmered above, quiet and untouchable.
Aryelle sat alone, legs folded, her sword across her knees. The campfire crackled behind her, but its warmth felt distant. Her mark still tingled from Mistvalley—like a warning that hadn't fully finished whispering.
Footsteps approached.
She didn't turn.
"I thought you didn't sleep," she said.
Kael stepped into view, shadows still flickering faintly at his heels. "I don't. Not when you look like you're trying to kill a memory."
Aryelle gave him a sideways glance. "Maybe I am."
He said nothing.
She let the silence stretch.
Then: "In the vision… the one from the Seal… I saw you dead."
Kael nodded once. "I saw myself dead too."
Aryelle smiled bitterly. "Comforting."
The Fire Between Them
Kael sat beside her, close but not touching. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," she said. "But I think I need to."
She breathed.
"I saw myself on a throne. Crowned. Alone. Everything burned. Everyone gone. And I felt... peaceful."
Kael didn't flinch. "Because you weren't afraid anymore."
"Exactly."
"That's the trap," he said. "The Crown doesn't take your strength. It asks for your fear. And when you give it up, you stop fighting."
Aryelle looked at him. "Is that what happened to you?"
His mouth twitched—something between a smile and a scar. "Close. I gave it everything but fear. That's why it didn't kill me."
"And the shadows?"
"They came later. When there was nothing left."
She studied him.
The silver eye. The black one. The quiet way he sat with his blade always within reach, like even rest was a war.
"Do you hate me?" she asked.
Kael blinked. "What?"
"You're always watching me. Like I'm about to become something you'll have to kill."
He looked away. "No."
"Then why are you still here?"
He answered without hesitation.
"Because if you fall… I'd rather be the one to catch you than the one sent to bury you."
The fire popped.
Aryelle stared down at her mark.
"It's growing," she whispered. "The closer we get to the Crown, the more it changes me."
"It doesn't define you," Kael said.
"No. But it's becoming me. And I don't know where I end and it begins."
A pause.
Then she turned to him.
"What if I lose control?"
Kael met her gaze. "Then I'll remind you who you are."
A long moment passed.
And then, without thinking, without planning—she leaned in.
And he didn't stop her.
Their foreheads touched. No kiss. No rush.
Just breath.
Warm and close.
Like a promise made in the space between survival and surrender.
Later that night
Kael sat awake, staring at the stars.
The fire had burned low. Aryelle slept lightly beside him.
And the shadows whispered in his ear:
"You can't save her."
He didn't respond.
He just reached out and held her hand.