Two weeks into training
Kieran woke screaming.
Again.
Rhydian was there immediately, hands gripping his shoulders, voice cutting through the nightmare. "You're here. You're solid. You're real."
But Kieran's hands were flickering—flesh, light, flesh, light—his body confused about what form it should take even in sleep. The nightmares had started after the fifth training session. Dreams of dissolving completely, of becoming pure energy with no anchor, floating in endless silver void with no way back.
"Breathe," Rhydian commanded. "Feel my hands. Solid. Real. Let that anchor you."
Slowly, Kieran's flickering stabilized. His hands became flesh again, stayed flesh. His breathing evened out.
"How long was I out this time?" he asked hoarsely.
"Three hours. Better than last night." Rhydian's thumb traced circles on Kieran's wrist, constant physical contact that helped ground him. "But still not enough rest."
Kieran looked at the window. Still dark. Maybe two hours until dawn. Maybe less.
He hadn't slept a full night since training started.
"I'm fine," he lied.
Through the bond, Rhydian felt the exhaustion, the fear, the determination that was equal parts courage and stubbornness. "You're destroying yourself."
"I'm getting stronger."
"Same thing, apparently." Rhydian sat up, pulling Kieran against his chest. "Silvara said we could slow down. Three sessions a week instead of four. Give your body more recovery time."
"No." Kieran's voice was firm despite his exhaustion. "The Sealed Ones won't slow down. We don't have time for me to take it easy."
"We have time for you to survive the training." Rhydian's arms tightened around him. "You're no good to anyone if you burn out before reaching Apotheosis."
"I won't burn out."
"Kieran—"
"I won't." Kieran turned to face him. Even exhausted, even flickering at the edges, his eyes burned with determination. "I died once already. Came back. I can handle four training sessions a week."
Rhydian looked at him—really looked. Saw the shadows under his eyes, the way his hands trembled slightly, the faint glow that never quite faded anymore. Saw his mate pushing himself to the breaking point and refusing to acknowledge it.
"You're so damn stubborn," Rhydian said, but there was affection in his voice.
"Says the hybrid king who once fought for three days straight without sleeping."
"That was different."
"How?"
"I wasn't risking dissolving into pure energy every time I closed my eyes." Rhydian's hand cupped Kieran's face. "I'm terrified, Kieran. Every training session, I feel you slipping away. Feel you getting closer to that point where I can't pull you back. And I don't know what I'll do if—"
He cut himself off, but Kieran heard the unspoken fear.
If I lose you.
"You won't," Kieran said softly. "I trust you. The bond is stronger than the transformation. You'll always be able to pull me back."
"You have more faith in me than I have in myself."
"Good. Because right now, I don't have much faith in myself." Kieran's honesty was raw. "Every session, I'm terrified. Terrified of losing myself, of becoming something that's not me anymore. But then I feel you through the bond, and I remember who I am. What I'm fighting for."
Through the bond, Rhydian felt the truth of it. Felt how his presence was the only thing keeping Kieran sane through this brutal training.
"Then I'll be there," he said simply. "Every session. Every nightmare. Every moment you need to remember you're not alone."
They stayed like that until dawn, holding each other, the bond pulsing between them like a heartbeat.
Training grounds - later that morning
"Today we're trying something different," Silvara announced.
Kieran stood at the edge of the moonlight pool, already dreading what "different" meant. The last two weeks had been the same brutal routine: submerge, transform, get pulled back. Over and over until his body forgot what it meant to be fully solid.
"Instead of just practicing the transformation, we're going to attempt maintaining it." Silvara's ancient eyes gleamed. "You'll shift into energy form and hold it. Learn to exist that way consciously, with control."
"How long?" Kieran asked.
"Start with thirty seconds. Work up from there."
Thirty seconds sounded easy. But Kieran had learned not to trust Silvara's assessments of "easy."
"And if he can't hold it?" Rhydian asked from his position at the circle's edge.
"Then you pull him back, same as always. But—" Silvara looked at Kieran seriously, "—this is where training gets truly dangerous. Transforming is one thing. Maintaining transformation requires you to let go of your physical form completely. Surrender to the energy state. That's when the risk of losing yourself permanently becomes real."
"Permanently?" Kieran's stomach dropped.
"If you stay in pure energy form too long, your consciousness can disperse. Spread too thin across the magical field to ever coalesce back into a person." Silvara's voice was grave. "That's how previous moon fae died attempting Apotheosis. They transformed successfully but couldn't find their way back to physical form."
"So I could just... disappear? Forever?"
"Yes. Which is why Rhydian's anchor is critical. He has to pull you back before you drift too far." Silvara looked at Rhydian. "You'll feel it through the bond. When his consciousness starts to fragment, starts to lose coherence. That's your signal to pull."
"How will I know the difference between normal transformation and dangerous dispersal?" Rhydian asked.
"Instinct. The bond will tell you." Silvara's confidence wasn't as reassuring as she probably intended. "You'll feel when he's slipping away."
Kieran looked at Rhydian. Through the bond, a silent conversation:
Are you ready for this?
No. Are you?
Not even a little.
Then we're perfectly matched.
Despite everything, Kieran smiled.
"Let's do this," he said.
He stepped into the pool.
The now-familiar agony of moonlight flooding his system hit immediately. But Kieran had learned not to fight it, to let the energy flow through his fae core, to become a vessel rather than a dam.
His body began to dissolve. Flesh becoming light, solid becoming ethereal. He felt himself transforming, felt the physical world growing distant—
"Hold it!" Silvara commanded. "Stay in that state! Don't let yourself fully dissolve, but don't pull back to physical form either!"
It was like trying to balance on a knife's edge. One side, solid flesh and bones and all the limitations that came with physical existence. Other side, pure energy and infinite possibility and the terrifying risk of dispersing into nothing.
Kieran existed in the space between.
And it was beautiful.
He was aware of everything—the moonlight in the pool, the stone circle's ancient power, the forest surrounding the training grounds. Could feel the pulse of life in every tree, every animal, every blade of grass. His consciousness expanded, touching the edges of the world—
Kieran!
Rhydian's voice through the bond, urgent and afraid.
Come back! You're drifting!
Was he? Kieran couldn't tell. The expanded awareness felt so natural, so right. Why would he want to limit himself back into flesh when he could exist like this, vast and free—
Rhydian's power slammed into him.
Not gentle this time. Brutal, demanding, absolute. Hybrid vigor grabbing onto Kieran's dispersing consciousness and dragging it back by force.
NO! You don't get to leave me!
The certainty in Rhydian's mental voice cut through Kieran's drifting awareness. Reminded him who he was. What he was fighting for.
Kieran gasped, snapping back into his body so hard he stumbled out of the pool.
Rhydian caught him, arms solid and real and completely present.
"Fifteen seconds," Silvara said. "You held energy form for fifteen seconds before starting to disperse."
"Felt like minutes," Kieran panted. "Felt like I could touch everything."
"That's the danger." Silvara moved closer. "Energy form is seductive. It makes you feel powerful, infinite. Makes physical existence seem limiting, pointless. That's how moon fae lose themselves. They choose to stay energy because it feels better than being physical."
"I didn't choose," Kieran protested. "I was drifting without meaning to."
"Weren't you?" Silvara's knowing look made Kieran uncomfortable. "You felt how vast you could be. Felt the freedom. And part of you wanted to keep going, keep expanding. Admit it."
Kieran couldn't. Couldn't admit that yes, for those fifteen seconds, he'd felt more alive and powerful than ever before. That the physical world had seemed like a cage he wanted to escape.
But through the bond, Rhydian felt the truth.
His arms tightened around Kieran. "Never again," he said quietly. "You don't drift like that ever again."
"I didn't mean to—"
"I know. But now you know how it feels. How tempting it is." Rhydian pulled back just enough to meet Kieran's eyes. "So we establish a rule right now. When you're in energy form, you stay tethered to the bond. Use my presence as an anchor, always. Don't let yourself get lost in the vastness."
"That might limit how far I can go."
"Then you go less far. But alive." Rhydian's voice cracked slightly. "I can't—I won't lose you to this training. I'd rather face all six Sealed Ones at once than watch you dissolve into nothing."
The raw fear in his mate's voice shook Kieran. Made him realize how close he'd come to something terrible.
"Okay," he agreed. "I'll stay tethered. Always."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Silvara watched their exchange with ancient eyes that had seen this before. "The bond will save you," she said softly. "But only if you let it. Previous moon fae who attempted Apotheosis did it alone. They had no anchor, no one to pull them back from the seduction of infinite consciousness. You have Rhydian. Use that advantage."
They trained for three more hours. Each time Kieran transformed into energy form, each time he held it a little longer—twenty seconds, twenty-five, thirty—and each time, Rhydian pulled him back before he could drift too far.
By the end, Kieran could maintain energy form for forty-five seconds while staying fully conscious and tethered to the bond.
Progress. Brutal, terrifying progress.
But progress nonetheless.
That evening - Shadowkeep
Kieran sat in the library, supposedly reading reports from Draven about the mixed-species academy's construction progress. Actually staring at the pages without seeing them, his mind still half in that vast awareness he'd felt during training.
"You're flickering again."
He looked down at his hands. Sure enough, they phased between solid and translucent every few seconds.
Lyria sat down across from him, casual but watchful. "How bad is it?"
"The training? It's—" Kieran paused. How to explain something so outside normal experience? "It's like dying, but slower. And you have to choose to do it. Over and over."
"Sounds terrible."
"It is. But also—" he struggled for words, "—also incredible. When I transform, I can feel everything. The whole world connected through moonlight and magic. It's beautiful."
"And dangerous, from what I hear." Lyria's sharp gaze missed nothing. "Silvara says you almost dispersed today."
"Almost. But Rhydian pulled me back."
"He won't always be able to. If you go too far, even the bond might not be enough." Lyria leaned forward. "I know you're doing this to protect everyone. To be strong enough to face the next Sealed One. But Kieran—we need you alive more than we need you powerful."
"You sound like Rhydian."
"Because we're both terrified we're going to lose you to this training." Her voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "We already lost you once, at the temple. Watching Rhydian bring you back, seeing how close we came to permanently losing you—" She shook her head. "Don't ask us to go through that again."
Kieran felt the weight of their fear. Felt how many people were depending on him to not just survive, but to stay himself.
"I don't know how to be strong enough without risking everything," he admitted. "The Sealed Ones are ancient, powerful. If I hold back in training, if I don't push to the absolute limit, I won't be able to face them."
"Then push to the limit, but not past it. Trust Rhydian to know where that line is." Lyria stood. "He's your mate. Let him carry some of this burden. That's what the bond is for."
After she left, Kieran sat alone with her words.
Let Rhydian carry some of the burden.
It was hard. Kieran had been independent for so long, used to bearing everything alone. The idea of leaning on someone, truly leaning on them, felt foreign.
But maybe that was what he needed to learn. Not just how to transform into pure energy, but how to accept support. How to let the bond be a true partnership instead of just a magical anchor.
"Deep thoughts?"
Rhydian appeared in the doorway, looking exhausted but alert. He'd spent the day coordinating with Draven about trade routes and diplomatic protocols. The work of building a recognized kingdom was endless.
"Just thinking about what Lyria said," Kieran admitted.
"Which was?"
"That I need to let you help carry the burden. Not try to do everything alone."
Rhydian crossed to him, sat on the arm of Kieran's chair. "She's right. But I know why it's hard for you." His hand found Kieran's, threaded their fingers together. "You've been alone since you were ten. Learned to depend only on yourself. The Guild trained that into you—individual strength, individual responsibility. The idea of true partnership is foreign."
"Is it that obvious?"
"To someone who shares your soul through a magical bond? Yes." Rhydian's slight smile took any sting from the words. "But that's okay. We'll learn together. I'm not used to partnership either. Spent a century ruling alone, trusting no one completely. This—" he gestured between them, "—is new for both of us."
Through the bond, Kieran felt Rhydian's sincerity. Felt how the hybrid king was just as uncertain, just as scared of failing in this partnership.
"Then we figure it out together," Kieran said. "Make mistakes together. Learn together."
"Together," Rhydian agreed. "Starting with this: tomorrow's training is cancelled. You need a full day's rest. No arguments."
Kieran wanted to protest, but the exhaustion in his bones made the idea of rest impossibly appealing.
"Okay," he said. "One day off. But then back to the schedule."
"Deal."
They sat together in the quiet library, hands intertwined, the bond pulsing between them like a second heartbeat.
Outside, the Shadowlands continued its transformation into a recognized kingdom. Inside, two mates learned what it meant to truly be partners.
And somewhere in the distant north, ancient powers stirred in their sleep, sensing the moon fae's growing strength.
The next Sealed One was waking.
But that was a problem for tomorrow.
Tonight, there was only this: two souls learning to share the weight of destiny, together.