The river was merciless.
It slammed them against stone and dragged them under, stealing breath and thought alike. Water filled her mouth, her nose, her lungs. The cold cut deeper than any blade, shocking the fire inside her into silence.
She lost her grip on Elion.
Panic flared.
Not power.
Not fear.
Love.
She fought the current blindly, arms burning, chest screaming. The darkness pressed in until everything narrowed to one terrible thought.
Not him.
Not again.
Her fingers brushed fabric.
She clung to it desperately, forcing her way upward until air tore back into her lungs. She broke the surface with a gasp, dragging Elion with her.
The river did not slow.
They were thrown onto a muddy bank with violent force. She curled around him instinctively, shielding his body from the water as the current roared past.
For a long moment, she did not move.
"Elion," she whispered.
No response.
Her heart pounded so hard it hurt.
She pressed her ear to his chest.
There.
Faint.
Unsteady.
Alive.
Relief collapsed her to the ground. She laughed once, broken and breathless, then covered her mouth as tears spilled freely.
The sky was pale with early morning light. Mist clung to the river like a veil. The forest here was unfamiliar. Quiet. Untouched.
She dragged him farther from the water, muscles screaming in protest. His body was cold. His lips tinged blue.
She pressed her hands against his chest, willing warmth back into him. Not fire. Never fire. Just heat enough to keep him alive.
Minutes passed.
Then he coughed violently, water spilling from his mouth as his body jerked.
"Elion," she cried, gripping his shoulders.
He sucked in air greedily, coughing again before collapsing back against the ground.
For a long moment, he simply breathed.
Then he turned his head slightly and looked at her.
"You look terrible," he murmured.
She laughed through tears and pressed her forehead to his. "You fell off a cliff and that is what you say."
"I fell with you," he corrected weakly. "Important difference."
She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the sound of his voice.
The river had tried to take him.
It failed.
But as she held him there on the cold ground, she felt it again.
That pull.
That pressure beneath her skin.
Not awakening.
Not yet.
But waiting.
The power inside her had not drowned.
It was only resting.
And somewhere beyond the trees, the world was already moving.
Searching.