POV: Kael ššš”ļø
It had been three days since the encounter with Ruvan's mimic.
Ariya hadn't spoken much since. Not about the incident. Not about the twisted words whispered into her ears. Not even about the way she nearly burned the entire glade down.
She just trained harder. Slept less. Ignored meals. Ignored him.
And Kaelā¦ let her.
Until now.
He watched her from the edge of the courtyard, where she stood alone, throwing flame after flame at a worn-out training post.
Her strikes were too sharp. Too fast. Not controlled ā just angry.
Kael had seen warriors like that.People who tried to outrun what haunted them by destroying everything around them.
He wouldn't let Ariya become one of them.
Lyra approached him, arms crossed. "You should talk to her."
"She doesn't want to talk."
"She doesn't have to," Lyra replied. "But you can remind her she's still her."
He found Ariya in the storage alcove behind the sanctuary later that evening, alone and hunched over her dagger.
Her flames were dim ā flickering at the tips of her fingers. Like a candle trying not to go out.
"You're burning yourself out," Kael said, voice low but firm.
She didn't look up. "Good. Then I won't feel it."
He took a step closer. "That's not how this works."
"I can't afford to fall apart, Kael," she whispered. "Not with Ruvan twisting his way into my mind. Not when everyone's looking at me to lead."
"You think we care about how perfectly you carry the weight?" he said. "We care that you're still standing. Still fighting."
"And what if I don't want to anymore?" she snapped suddenly. "What if I'm tired of being the symbol, the Flamebearer, the girl who's supposed to save everyone?"
That silence again.
The kind filled with shattered breath and too many expectations.
Kael moved closer.
He didn't lecture her. Didn't tell her to be brave.
Insteadā¦ he knelt.
Right there in front of her, sword still on his back, eyes steady.
"Then let me carry it for a while."
Ariya blinked.
"What?"
"The weight," he said. "Even just a piece of it. Give it to me."
She stared at him. Confused. Angry. But behind that ā something fragile. Something broken.
"You can't fight what's in my head."
"No," he said. "But I can stand in front of you while you fight it."
She didn't cry. Not really.But her hand slipped into his without a word.
And in that single, quiet momentā¦ she let him hold the flame.
They sat there together as the sky darkened.
No orders. No battles. Just shared silence.
And Kael knew ā this wasn't victory.But it was trust.
A step closer.
A crack in her armor, meant only for him.
Far away, in the frost-lit halls of Ruvan's citadel, the prince stood before his mirror again.
He had felt it.
The bond between them. The way her fire had flickered not in rage, but in relief ā and not for him.
"She's slipping away," Ruvan said softly.
He touched the mark he'd left on her through the Shard.
And this timeā¦ it didn't glow.