I was still catching my breath when his voice cut through the silence.
"What did the rune show you?"
It wasn't an accusation. It wasn't harsh.
But it was weighted, deliberate. Like he already had a suspicion, he just needed confirmation.
He slowly let go of me and stepped back, as if he needed space to absorb whatever I was about to say.
I exhaled shakily, leaning against the tree behind me for support, my legs still unsteady, my mind tangled in the lingering echoes of what I had just seen.
"I don't know exactly what this was." My voice was hoarse, uncertain.
Riven's jaw tightened slightly, his eyes flicking toward my arm before meeting mine again.
But he didn't interrupt. He just waited.
I forced myself to push through the haze, through the lingering chill curling at my spine.
"There was a war. A battle. Two forces: fire and shadow, fighting against a warrior of light. But there was someone else too. Not fighting. Just… watching. But not really watching. More like..." I hesitated, frowning. "A link. Like they were connected to him, but no one could see it."
Riven stayed still, too still.
So I kept going. "And then… the shadows moved. Fast. And there was..." I paused, the memory of it pressing against my mind. "A pair of eyes. Cold. Knowing. Like they weren't supposed to see me, but they did."
Riven stiffened.
A sharp inhalem, so quick I barely caught it.
His shoulders went rigid, his fingers flexing at his sides like he was about to reach for something but stopped himself.
"What is it?" My voice was sharper than I intended. "Do you know anything about what I saw?"
Riven didn't answer.
But the way the silence stretched between us told me everything I needed to know.
Then, before I could react, before I could push harder, his hands were on my arms.
Firm. Unshaken.
And then he gently but deliberately, pulled me closer to him, so I was looking directly into his eyes.
There was something there. Something tense, something raw.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice quieter now, steady but edged with something else.
"I know it's frustrating. I know what it feels like to be kept in the dark, to feel like no one is telling you what you deserve to know."
I clenched my jaw, but he didn't let go. Didn't let me pull away.
"But I need you to trust me," he continued. "The less you know, the better."
The words sent a sharp, immediate spike of frustration through me.
"That's not good enough, Riven. You keep saying that, but..."
"You really don't understand, do you?" His voice cut through mine, not loud, but controlled, weighted. "This isn't just some random threatL: it's real. It's dangerous. And it will tear you apart."
Beneath the edge of anger, there was something else.
Something dangerously close to fear.
"I know you think it doesn't matter, but it does. You do. And if keeping you safe means shutting you out, then so be it. I'd rather you hate me than take the risk of losing you."
I swallowed hard, my breath uneven.
"Please, just trust me." He pleaded, his gaze searching mine, desperate for something I wasn't sure I could give.
I stared at him, trying to find the lie, the half-truth, anything. But there was none.
Just the bare, open honesty in his expression. And that scared me more than anything.
"Can you do that for me?"
The air between us felt too thick, too charged, too much. I didn't know what to say.
So instead, I whispered, "What about Lara?"
Riven's expression flickered. Just for a second.
Then, just as quickly, he masked it.
"I'll take care of it."
I narrowed my eyes. "Take care of what, exactly?" My voice wavered, my stomach twisting with unease. "You said this thing, whatever it is, is dangerous. So tell me, Riven, what has she gotten herself into?"
He hesitated.
Then, finally: "It's complicated. But I'll try my best to rescue her before she gets in too deep."
The words weren't dramatic. They weren't meant to scare me.
But they did.
"What..." I started, but before I could get the rest of the words out, Riven did something unexpected.
His hand lifted faster than I could react, his fingers pressing gently against my lips, silencing me.
The touch was light. Barely there. But it silenced me instantly.
His voice was quiet, steady.
"Please, Athens."
The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine.
"Trust me. Let me take care of this."
I didn't move. Didn't breathe.
I hated that a part of me, a stupid, reckless part of me, wanted to trust him.
Even when I knew I shouldn't.
Even when I knew he was still keeping secrets.
But I was so tired.
Tired of pushing. Tired of demanding answers no one would give me. Tired of fighting when all I wanted, just for a moment, was to believe in something.
In him.
I sucked in a slow breath, my pulse still unsteady.
Riven's hand dropped to his side, but he didn't step away.
The silence stretched between us, thick and unspoken.
Then, finally, I whispered, "Okay."
His expression didn't change, but something in his posture, something in the tightness of his shoulders, eased.
I didn't know if I meant it.
Didn't know if I really trusted him, or if I was just too exhausted to fight anymore.
But for now, I let it be enough.
Riven exhaled, then tilted his head slightly toward the path leading back. "Come on. Let's get you home."
I hesitated, my feet planted in place, my body still heavy with the weight of the vision, the conversation, the things left unsaid.
But then, against all logic, I moved.
I let him walk beside me. Step for step.
Neither of us spoke as we made our way back. But something had shifted between us.
Something unspoken.
When we reached my house, Riven slowed, stopping just before the door.
For a moment, I thought he was going to say something.
Maybe another warning. Maybe another half-truth, another piece of a puzzle I didn't know I was a part of.
But instead, he looked at me, his expression carefully neutral. "Go inside, Athena."
A pause.
Then, softer: "I'll fix this. I promise."
I studied him, searching for any sign of what he wasn't saying.
I didn't find one. So instead, I nodded.
Slowly, I turned and stepped inside, the door closing behind me.
The house was quiet.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor.
I stood there for a long moment, staring into the stillness of my home, the weight of everything settling in my chest.
Listening.
Lara was here. Somewhere. Probably upstairs, acting like today was just another day.
Like last night never happened.
I exhaled, my fingers tightening at my sides, grounding myself against the silence.
I turned toward the window. Riven was already gone.
I debated for a moment what to do next. It was the weekend after all.
Normally, Lara and I would be making plans, deciding where to go, where to waste the hours before the sun dipped beyond the horizon.
But after everything that happened this morning, I didn't feel like going out.
Instead, I grabbed some snacks from the kitchen, shoving a few into my pockets before heading upstairs.
My room. My safe sanctuary.
The moment I stepped inside, I felt a little lighter. The chaos outside couldn't reach me here.
I dropped onto my bed, letting out a slow breath, and let my gaze wander around the room.
That's when my eyes settled on the guitar case.
I sat up slowly.
Ever since I held the guitar in my hands last night, the urge to strum the strings, to hear the notes come to life, had been lingering beneath my skin.
There was something about it, the way the chords vibrated against my hands, the way the melody flowed, shaping itself into something more than just sound.
It was grounding. Addictive.
And right now, it was exactly what I needed.
An idea formed in my head.
I got the guitar out of its case, adjusting it in my lap, my fingers brushing over the strings as I thought of what to play.
Then, I grabbed my iPod, scrolling through my usual playlists until my thumb hovered over a song.
Nobody's Home.
I smiled to myself.
Avril Lavigne. For the second time this week.
She was an artist I had discovered in the preloaded playlists on my iPod, someone whose music resonated with me, even though I had no idea which realm she came from. Somehow, across worlds and impossible distances, her songs carried emotions I understood, as if we shared the same unspoken language.
I plugged in my earbuds and let the song play through once, letting the chords sink in, familiarizing myself with the rhythm.
Then, slowly, I placed my fingers on the strings.
At first, the transitions were a little rough, but the more I strummed, the more natural it became.
Then, finally, I let my voice join the melody.
"She wants to go home, but nobody's home…"
The words fell from my lips effortlessly, like they belonged to me.
For the first time all day, I let myself feel everything.
The exhaustion, the frustration, the ache of knowing something had shifted, in me, around me.
I just let it all rise, let it tangle with the music, with the raw edge in my voice as I sang the next line.
"She's lost inside, lost inside, oh, oh, Oh..."
I struck the final chord, letting it linger in the air, fading into silence.
The last few lyrics of the song hung between me and the stillness of my room, my fingers resting on the strings as I let out a slow breath.
That's when I caught it; movement from the doorway.
I glanced up, my stomach tightening when I saw Lara standing there.
She was wiping at her eyes, her expression uncertain, like she wasn't sure if she should be here.
I ignored her.
Instead, I let my fingers slide over the strings, picking at them absentmindedly, drawing out a soft, unfamiliar melody.
Lara stepped inside, moving hesitantly.
The bed dipped beneath her weight as she lowered herself beside me, her presence lingering in the silence between us.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then, finally, she broke the silence.
"Where have you been hiding that talent?"
I kept my focus on the instrument in my hands, trying to pretend like her presence didn't unsettle me.
"You have a beautiful voice, Athena. You're good."
I didn't know what to say to that.
I was still too hurt, too raw from this morning.
So I didn't say anything.
Instead, I kept playing, trying out random melodies, missing notes, correcting myself.
Practice made perfect, right?
The silence between us stretched, thick and awkward.
I could feel her watching me. Waiting.
When it became too much, I stopped abruptly.
The guitar let out a sharp, distorted sound, cutting through the stillness.
I tried not to wince.
Then, finally, I looked at her.
"What do you want, Lara?" My voice was sharp, cold. "Having second thoughts about running into the sunset with what's-his-face?"
Her lips parted slightly, but I didn't let her speak.
I leaned back, tilting my head as I gave her a mocking look.
"Oh, what was it you said?" I continued, my voice turning acidic. "'The man of my dreams'?"
Lara stiffened.
And just like that, the fragile moment between us shattered.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her sweater, her expression flickering between shock, frustration, and something else: something she tried to bury too quickly.
For a second, I thought she was going to fight back, snap at me like she always did when she didn't want to answer something.
But she didn't.
She just exhaled, her shoulders sinking slightly, her gaze dropping to her lap.
"Athena, don't."
I let out a sharp breath, tilting my head. "Don't what?" My voice was cold, sharp. "Don't call you out for lying to me? Don't remind you that you came home drunk, rambling about some mystery guy you conveniently refuse to mention again?"
Lara shifted uncomfortably, but I wasn't letting this go. Not this time.
She stayed silent, gripping the hem of her sweater like she could anchor herself with it.
I strummed the strings of my guitar again, not playing, just filling the silence.
Then I asked, "Who is he, Lara?"
She hesitated.
Too long.
And that told me everything.
"Oh." I scoffed, shaking my head. "Right. Because the pattern here is pretty obvious: I ask, and you don't answer."
Lara let out a slow breath, then finally lifted her gaze to meet mine.
"It's not that simple, Athena."
I clenched my jaw. "It never is with you, is it?"
Silence. Too much silence.
She looked at me like she wanted to say something.
Like the words were right there, at the tip of her tongue.
But then, she shut down.
The silence stretched too long. Too heavy.
I let out a bitter breath, shaking my head as I placed the guitar aside.
"Forget it, Lara." My voice was quiet, but firm. "I'm done asking."
I moved to stand, but just as I shifted, her hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.
"Athena, wait..."
I froze.
Not because of her grip. It wasn't strong enough to hold me there if I really wanted to leave.
But because of the way her voice cracked.
Slowly, I looked at her.
Lara was staring down at her lap, her fingers trembling slightly against my wrist before she pulled away, curling her hands into her sleeves.
She let out a slow, uneven breath, like she was trying to steady herself.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"I know I messed up."
Her voice was small. Barely audible.
I swallowed hard, but I didn't respond. Not yet.
Because I needed her to keep talking.
"I didn't mean to scare you," she continued, her voice fragile, like she was picking her words carefully. "I just… I got caught up in something I shouldn't have."
I exhaled sharply. "Yeah, no kidding."
Lara winced.
But I wasn't in the mood to make this easier for her.
I crossed my arms. "So what was it? What are you so deep into that you can't even tell me the truth?"
Lara hesitated.
Then, just as quickly as she had started to open up, I saw it, the way her walls went back up, the way her face smoothed over into something unreadable.
She looked at me, forcing a weak smile. "It's nothing, Athens. Just… a stupid mistake. I can handle it."
I looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time, I wondered, how did we get here?
How did we end up on opposite sides of a conversation that should never have felt this heavy?
I hated this.
I hated that we were like this. That there was this gap between us, filled with secrets and silences where there used to be nothing but trust.
Lara kept staring at her lap, like she was waiting for me to lash out again.
But I didn't. I tried to be the bigger person instead.
I inhaled slowly, keeping my voice calm, steady. "Listen, Lara, you're an adult now. You make your own choices. I just hope you know what you're doing."
She glanced up at me, her expression unreadable.
I exhaled, shaking my head. "I don't want to drag this argument further, and I definitely don't want to sit here and have you lie to my face any more than you already have today."
Her lips parted slightly, but she didn't say anything.
"I'm just… sad." I swallowed, my throat tight. "Sad that you don't trust me enough to tell me things. I thought we never kept secrets from each other."
Lara flinched.
Good. She should feel that.
Because it was true.
She and I, we were supposed to be a team. And yet, here we were.
At a standstill.
I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to push past the knot forming in my chest. "Don't get me wrong, Lara. I love you. I do. You'll always be my sister."
Lara's eyes flickered with something: guilt, maybe. Pain.
But I wasn't sure if that was enough anymore.
I shrugged. "If you say you can handle whatever it is you're into, then fine by me."
A heavy silence fell between us. Lara looked like she wanted to say something.
But I didn't wait for her to find the words. I just grabbed my jacket and walked out.
Lara didn't stop me.
She didn't call after me.
And somehow, that hurt more than I wanted to admit.