The fire crackled softly in Elara's cottage, but its warmth could not reach the man lying on her bed. The curse-marked veins had faded into faint shadows beneath his skin, but every now and then they twitched—like something inside him was trying to break free.
Elara sat beside him again, watching the weak rise and fall of his chest.
He slept, but not peacefully.
His face twisted in pain, his fingers clutching the blanket as though he were trying to hold on to something slipping away. Soft, broken murmurs escaped his lips — words in a language she didn't understand, thick with sorrow.
Elara leaned closer. "You're dreaming…"
A dream or a nightmare — she couldn't tell.
His breathing grew ragged.
Then he whispered something that made the hairs on her arms rise:
"Don't take her… please don't take her again…"
Her heart clenched.
Again.
Always again.
What had he lost?
Who had he lost?
And why did everything he said feel connected to her in ways that made her chest ache?
Elara placed her hand gently on his arm.
"Wake up… you're safe."
But when her skin touched his, the cottage vanished.
Elara gasped.
She wasn't in her cottage anymore.
She was standing in a vast, drifting emptiness — a space of swirling stars and floating shards of memories. The air shimmered with soft blue light, and ghost-like echoes whispered around her.
A dream.
His dream.
Or maybe… his memory.
A shape formed in front of her — faint, trembling.
Him.
But not as he was now.
He looked younger, unbroken, with eyes full of light instead of pain. He stood beneath a tree similar to the Heart Tree, but darker, ancient, wrapped in black mist.
Elara watched silently as a second figure approached him — a woman with long dark hair, her back turned, her steps unsteady.
He reached for her, desperate.
"Please… don't leave me."
The woman turned—
Her face was blurred.
Like the memory refused to show it.
But Elara felt a sharp, inexplicable pain in her chest.
He grabbed the woman's hands.
"I can't lose you again," he choked. "Not you."
The woman's body flickered with darkness.
"Let me go. If you stay near me, the curse will take you too."
"No," he whispered fiercely. "I will not watch you die again. I can't—"
But the shadow from the river rose behind them — massive, monstrous, alive with hunger.
It struck the woman first.
She screamed—a cry of pure agony that tore through the dream.
He held her as she fell, shaking, her body turning cold in his arms.
"No—no—no—!" His voice broke. "Take me instead! TAKE ME!"
The world around them shattered like glass.
Elara stumbled backward, gasping.
Then she heard it—
A whisper, not from him, not from the woman, but from the darkness itself:
Bound by fate.
Doomed by love.
The curse chooses again…
The dream collapsed.
---
"Elara!"
She jolted awake.
The cottage snapped back into existence. The fire roared softly. Morning light filtered through the leaves.
And he was sitting up, gripping her shoulders, eyes wide with panic.
"Elara—are you hurt?" he breathed, scanning her face as if terrified she might vanish.
She shook her head, breath trembling. "I… I saw your dream."
His entire body went still.
"No." His voice cracked. "You weren't supposed to. The curse—Elara, what did you see?"
"A woman," she whispered, still shaken. "Someone who died in your arms."
Pain stabbed through his expression — raw, devastating, too deep for words.
"She left you," Elara said softly.
"No. She was taken."
He closed his eyes, jaw tightening.
"Elara… that memory… wasn't meant to touch you."
"Who was she?" she asked gently.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he cupped his head in his hands, shaking. "Please don't ask me that. Please."
Elara swallowed, her voice barely audible. "Was she someone you loved?"
A tear rolled down his cheek — silent, glowing faintly before fading.
"Yes," he whispered brokenly.
"She was everything."
Elara's chest twisted painfully—sharp and unexpected."not jealousy,but sorrow for him."
For the pain he carried.
For a past that still bled inside him.
But then he looked at her—a long, searching look that made her breath tremble.
"Elara," he whispered, voice shaking,
"when you touched me… the curse reacted differently. I don't understand why. I don't know what you are to me. But when you're near…"
He swallowed hard.
"…the darkness doesn't hurt as much."
A warmth spread through her chest—frightening, overwhelming.
"I don't know what I am to you either," she admitted, her cheeks burning. "But I know you're not meant to carry this alone."
He stared at her, grief and hope battling in his eyes.
"Elara… I'm cursed. You saw what follows me."
"Yes," she whispered.
"And I stayed. I'm still staying."
Something inside him broke—softly, quietly.
He reached for her hand, but stopped, fingers hovering.
"Can I…?" he whispered.
Elara gently took his hand in hers.
Their fingers intertwined slowly—hesitantly—like two souls finding each other in the dark.
And for the first time since she met him…
He smiled.
A small, weak, trembling smile.
But real.
"Elara," he murmured, breath shaking.
"You feel like… home."
Her heart stopped.
And in that fragile moment—
Something ancient stirred beneath the Heart Tree.
The shadow rippled awake.
The curse deepened its roots.
And fate whispered:
The bond has begun.