The forest smelled like rain and sorrow — thick and clinging, a weight Elara couldn't shake no matter how fast she walked.
Each step sank into the sodden ground, the mud trying to pull her down, as if the earth itself wanted to swallow her whole.
Branches scraped at her cloak, snagged in her hair, whispering warnings she was too tired to listen to.
She pushed forward anyway.
Because stopping would mean thinking.
And thinking would mean breaking.
Kael moved a few paces ahead, sword already drawn, the line of his back rigid with tension.
He hadn't said much since the river — since she'd nearly lost herself to the relic, to the hunger curling inside her like a living thing.
To something ancient.
Something cruel.
Thorne followed at the rear, unusually silent.
Gone was the lazy grin he usually wore like armor.
Tonight, his face was shadowed and still, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade like he was waiting — praying — for a fight he could win.
And Liora — fierce, sharp-eyed Liora — stayed close to Elara's side, her bow slung across her back, her eyes never stopping their restless scan of the woods.
Every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves, made her shoulders twitch.
They didn't talk.
The silence was heavy.
Worse than any enemy.
Because what could they say?
That they were scared? That they didn't know if Elara was still Elara?
That maybe, maybe, they'd already lost her?
"Elara," Kael's voice broke through the thick air, rough and low.
"We need to camp. Before it gets worse."
She wanted to fight him, to argue that they could keep going, that they had to.
But her body betrayed her — the exhaustion clawing at her bones was too deep to ignore.
"Fine," she muttered, yanking her cloak tighter around herself like it could hold her together.
They found a clearing tucked beneath the ancient oaks, the twisted limbs weaving a ceiling of ghostly branches above them.
Kael and Thorne moved automatically, setting up camp without a word between them, and Liora crouched by a patch of moss, coaxing fire from stone and steel.
Elara sagged against the gnarled roots of an old tree, pulling her knees to her chest.
The relic — that cursed shard of nightmare — pulsed against her breastbone where it hung on its leather cord, thudding a heartbeat out of rhythm with her own.
It whispered to her in the places between breaths.
Soft, coaxing lies.
Power. Freedom. Safety.
All she had to do was let go.
"You should rest," Liora said, quieter than usual, tossing a blanket toward her.
Elara caught it clumsily and nodded, wrapping it around herself, wishing it was enough to block out the cold gnawing at her insides.
Sleep felt impossible — a luxury for people who weren't breaking apart at the seams — but she closed her eyes anyway, pretending, just for a little while.
The fire crackled softly.
Somewhere in the distance, a nightbird cried.
The world narrowed down to the rhythm of breathing and the aching throb behind her ribs.
And then —
A whisper.
A rustle in the dark, a voice threading itself straight into her mind:
"You can't trust them."
Her eyes snapped open.
The fire burned low, throwing dancing shadows against the trees.
Kael hunched over his sword, sharpening it with slow, methodical strokes.
Liora cleaned her arrows with mechanical precision.
Thorne lay back against the earth, staring up at the stars with a hollow expression.
No one had spoken.
Except…
Someone had.
She had heard it.
Inside her.
Real as the earth beneath her.
"They'll betray you, little spark. They always do."
Elara pressed her palms against her ears, desperate to drown it out.
She couldn't listen.
She couldn't.
Because if she did — she might start to believe it.
---
Hours later, when the fire had guttered to embers and her friends finally slept, Elara slipped from the safety of the camp.
The need for air clawed at her chest.
She needed to breathe — needed to feel something other than the slow, choking panic knotting inside her.
She wandered to the edge of the clearing, the forest rising around her like some ancient, slumbering beast.
Moonlight spilled through the canopy in silver ribbons, painting the forest floor in cold, shifting shadows.
She closed her eyes, let the damp air fill her lungs —
"Running again?"
She whirled, dagger half-drawn — and found herself face-to-face with Kael.
Of course it was Kael.
It was always Kael.
His face was unreadable in the moonlight, his eyes darker than the shadows.
"I'm not running," she said, her voice brittle.
A lie so transparent it almost hurt to say.
Kael stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of him.
"You're scared."
The truth, laid bare between them like an open wound.
Elara laughed — a harsh, broken sound. "Of course I'm scared. I'm carrying a time bomb around my neck, Kael. I'm a threat to everyone I care about. To you. To Liora. To Thorne. I can't even trust myself anymore!"
The words splintered in her mouth, sharp and painful.
Kael didn't flinch.
Didn't look away.
Instead, he did something that shattered her —
He reached for her.
Took her hand.
It was such a simple thing.
And yet it felt like everything.
Her breath hitched, the dam inside her finally crumbling.
"You don't have to do this alone," he said, voice rough with something that sounded suspiciously like heartbreak.
She shook her head violently, tears burning her eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."
Kael smiled — a small, broken thing that made her chest ache.
"Too late for that, Vel'Thari," he whispered.
Then he pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her like he could shield her from the world, from herself.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Elara let herself lean in.
Let herself break.
Let someone else carry the weight, just for a moment.
She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the smell of leather, steel, and stubborn, impossible hope.
They stood like that, two shattered souls trying to hold each other together against the tide.
---
The world ended the next morning.
They woke to the sound of horns — deep, jarring notes that rattled the earth itself.
Kael was on his feet instantly, sword drawn.
Liora cursed, already stringing an arrow.
Thorne rolled out of his bedroll with a grunt, blades flashing in his hands.
"Company," Kael growled, his voice pure steel.
Black-clad soldiers erupted from the trees like a flood of nightmares — the sigil of the Veydrath Dominion blazing on their armor.
The same empire that had been hunting Elara ever since she first touched the relic.
There were dozens.
Too many.
Elara barely had time to draw her blade before the first soldier was on her.
She ducked under his swing, drove her dagger deep into his side, twisted.
Hot blood splattered across her hand.
Chaos roared around her —
Liora's arrows sang death through the trees.
Thorne fought like a man with nothing left to lose.
Kael — Kael was a storm, a brutal, beautiful thing of blade and rage, carving a bloody path through anyone who dared to reach for her.
But it wasn't enough.
"We have to run!" Liora shouted, parrying a blow.
"No!" Kael bellowed. "They'll hunt us down. We end it here!"
Panic clawed at Elara's chest.
She could feel it — the power inside her — writhing, begging to be unleashed.
If she let it out, she could destroy them all.
End it.
Save her friends.
But she might lose herself forever.
A soldier broke through, lunging at her with a snarl —
And without thinking, Elara let go.
The relic's magic burst out of her, a tidal wave of raw force.
The soldier was thrown back like a rag doll, crashing into a tree with a sickening crack.
The ground buckled.
Trees split open like kindling.
The very air trembled.
Silence fell — thick, heavy, horrified.
Every eye turned to her.
Kael. Liora. Thorne.
The soldiers.
The magic still crackled in the air around her, painting her in an otherworldly light.
One of the soldiers backed away, spitting the word like a curse:
"Witch."
Then they fled — scattering like leaves before a storm.
Gone.
Leaving only wreckage in their wake.
Elara crumpled to her knees, gasping, the relic thrumming violently against her chest.
Kael was there in an instant, falling to his knees beside her, grabbing her face between his rough, callused hands.
"Elara —"
She met his gaze, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"I can't control it," she choked out, broken.
Kael's hands tightened around her, grounding her.
"Then we'll learn," he said fiercely, voice cracking with emotion. "We'll fight it. Together. You're not alone, Elara. Not anymore."
And for the first time, she believed him.
Even if it cost her everything.
Even if it broke her.
She wasn't alone.
Not anymore.