The night air outside the café carried a metallic chill as I locked the door. Elior had insisted on walking me home, but the idea of more talk about "balance" and "bonds" made my head pound. I needed space. I needed air.
"I'll be fine," I told him, tugging my jacket tighter. "It's three blocks."
His eyes softened but he didn't argue. "Call if anything feels wrong."
"Define wrong," I muttered, and turned down the empty street.
---
Halfway to my apartment, a hush settled over the neighborhood—no hum of traffic, no barking dogs, just a strange suspended silence. A single streetlight flickered, then steadied in a faint gold glow.
"Not creepy at all," I said under my breath.
"That depends on your taste in company," a voice answered.
Adrian stepped from the shadows like a memory I hadn't chosen. Moonlight caught the edges of his coat, gilding him in quiet fire. The smoky-sweet scent of roses drifted ahead of him.
"You have a talent for appearing uninvited," I said, forcing calm.
"I'm nothing if not persistent." He smiled, but there was something softer there tonight. "May I walk with you?"
"You already are."
He fell in beside me, hands tucked casually in his pockets. "The Concord came to you."
I stumbled, recovering quickly. "You were watching."
"I don't need to watch. I can feel when their power touches someone I care about."
The word care tangled in the air between us.
---
I quickened my pace. "You should leave, Adrian."
"I can't." He looked ahead, not at me. "Because I've seen where this ends if you follow Elior's path."
"And you expect me to believe you're the hero in this story?"
"I expect you to listen." His voice dropped, low and urgent. "The Concord wants you as a symbol, not a person. They'll dress it up as destiny, but it's control all the same. Elior believes in gentle nudges—yes—but he serves them. I don't."
The gold in his eyes flared faintly, not a threat this time, more like a plea.
---
We stopped beneath a tree heavy with blossoms. He reached out, stopping just short of touching my arm.
"You deserve a choice that isn't written in someone else's sky," he said. "I can help you keep it."
The feather in my pocket warmed, pulsing faster. I stepped back. "If you want me to trust you, don't use magic on me."
His hand dropped. "That wasn't magic."
Silence stretched. Only the petals drifting down broke it.
---
"You're fighting the Concord because you believe in free will," I said finally.
"Yes."
"Then why does it feel like you're trying to sway me?"
A faint, wry smile. "Because I'm still me."
For a heartbeat I thought I saw something unguarded in him—loneliness edged with regret.
Then he straightened. "I won't chase you tonight. But remember: their love story for you is a cage, no matter how beautiful it looks."
He stepped back into shadow, golden light folding around him until he was gone.
---
I stood alone beneath the blossoming tree, heart hammering.
The feather's pulse slowed to match my own, as if waiting.
For the first time since all of this began, I wondered if the danger wasn't only outside me, but in the choice I'd have to make.