The Academy cafeteria was still buzzing with tournament chatter, voices bouncing off high-arched ceilings as students replayed victories and blunders. Kael carried their tray, weaving past long tables crowded with familiar faces. Most were too wrapped up in boasting or complaining to notice them. It had been a draining week, one that ended not just in the heat of the second tournament but in the strange pull of a bond Kael still didn't fully understand.
Kael found a quiet corner and sat down, pushing food around their plate more than eating. Their thoughts circled the tournament scores like vultures. 637th. A middle ground, nothing remarkable. Yet the number mattered less than what came after.
A shadow fell across the table. Kael glanced up, pulse hitching.
It was them. The one whose presence had shaken Kael to the core the moment they crossed paths at the tournament gates. They held a tray balanced carefully, eyes searching, and when they met Kael's, something undeniable hummed between them again.
"Is this seat taken?" their voice was steady, though their grip on the tray seemed a little too tight.
Kael shook their head. "No. Please."
They sat, setting the tray down. For a few moments, silence stretched between them, broken only by the clatter of utensils and the distant murmur of other students. Then they drew a folded paper from their pocket and smoothed it on the table.
"I thought you should see this," they said. Their fingers lingered at the edges as though the sheet carried weight beyond ink.
Kael's eyes traced the document, breath catching as the name at the top revealed itself for the first time.
---
Elowen Serwyn
Place: 631st
Total Score: 49
Elapsed Time: 5 hr 02 min
Challenge Breakdown:
Break the Wall – Physical Gauntlet
Raw Power: 6
Efficiency: 5
Creative Application: 4
The Veil Maze – Illusion & Mental Trial
Clarity of Perception: 7
Mental Fortitude: 8
Time Efficiency: 6
The Waking Gate – Adaptive Fear Endurance
Resilience: 5
Adaptability: 5
Composure: 4
Showmanship: 5
---
Kael reread the name, letting it sink in. Elowen Serwyn. The syllables felt like they had always been waiting, familiar and new all at once.
"You placed just ahead of me," Kael said softly.
Elowen nodded, eyes steady on theirs. "Six places. But it doesn't feel like distance, does it?"
Kael shook their head. No—distance was the last word they'd use.
---
The next day, Kael spotted Elowen again, this time not by chance but through choice. The cafeteria was crowded with groups still analyzing the tournament's results, but Kael's eyes scanned until they found her, seated near the edge of the room. Without hesitation, Kael crossed over, tray balanced carefully.
"Mind if I join you this time?" Kael asked.
Elowen smiled, a quiet curve of lips that seemed to settle something restless inside Kael. "Please."
From then on, meals were no longer solitary. Lunches, sometimes dinners, sometimes just the quiet comfort of sitting with books spread across the table—they began to share space more and more. It wasn't forced. It wasn't staged. It simply… happened.
One evening, after a long day of classes and drills, Kael and Elowen found themselves walking the path that circled the training fields. Lamps glowed faintly with steady enchantments, throwing their shadows across packed earth. The night air was crisp, and for a time, they walked in silence.
Finally, Kael stopped, words catching at the edge of their throat. Should I tell her? The pull between them was unlike anything Kael had ever known. It was deeper than chance or coincidence, as if their souls had recognized each other before their minds did.
"Elowen," Kael said softly, turning to face her. She paused, watching them with steady, curious eyes.
"There's something I need to say," Kael continued. "I think… I think this connection between us—it isn't ordinary. I believe you're my fated mate."
The words hung in the air, heavy but true. Kael braced for disbelief, maybe even rejection.
But Elowen only inhaled, slow and even. Her eyes softened, and she took a single step closer.
"I've felt it too," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "From the moment we met. The draw—it's not something I can ignore. I can't explain it, but it's stronger than anything I've ever known."
Relief and warmth rushed through Kael all at once, threatening to buckle their knees. For the first time in weeks—months, even—they felt a glimmer of hope.
"But," Elowen added gently, "the tournament, our training… there's so much at stake. We can't let this overwhelm everything else."
Kael nodded. "I agree. We can't let it take over. But knowing you feel it too…" They let out a breath, a small, shaky laugh escaping them. "That's enough for now."
Elowen's smile deepened, warm and real. "Enough for now," she echoed.
They walked on, side by side, their steps aligning naturally. Neither reached for the other's hand. Not yet. But the space between them felt charged, like something waiting, something inevitable—something that would, in time, change everything.
Kael knew the whispers had begun. It was inevitable. The academy thrived on rumors as much as on training; when a bond began to form so soon after tragedy, tongues were bound to wag. Still, Kael thought it might take longer for the gossip to grow teeth.
It didn't.
It was late afternoon, the training fields emptying as students trickled back toward the dorms. Kael and Elowen walked together, not touching, but close enough that the connection between them was obvious.
A voice called out from behind.
"So that's it?"
Kael stopped. Elowen's brow furrowed as they both turned. A fellow student, Dorian, stepped forward. He wasn't a close friend, but he had trained with them often enough. His eyes were hard, narrowed with judgment.
"Rys isn't even cold in the ground," Dorian said sharply. "And here you are—already clinging to someone new."
The words hit Kael like a physical blow. Their throat tightened, and for a moment, no response came.
But Elowen didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, shoulders squared, her voice cutting like a blade.
"You don't get to speak on things you don't understand," she said, her tone calm but edged. "You didn't know Rys like Kael did. You didn't see their pain. You don't know the bond we feel."
Dorian scoffed. "A bond? That's what you're calling it? Seems more like convenience to me."
Kael flinched, but Elowen didn't waver. She took another step forward, closing the distance between them, her gaze locked on his.
"You think love obeys some neat timeline you can measure and judge? You think grief makes someone unworthy of finding connection again? You're arrogant if you believe you have the right to decide when someone has mourned 'long enough.'"
Her voice rose, not in volume but in steel, each word deliberate. "Kael carries Rys in their heart. That doesn't vanish because of me. And if you think their loyalty or their grief is shallow, then you're not just cruel—you're blind."
Silence fell. The other students lingering nearby, who had begun to watch, shifted uneasily.
Dorian's mouth opened, then closed again. He looked away, muttered something under his breath, and left.
Kael stood rooted, chest tight, emotions surging too fast to name. They glanced at Elowen, who turned back toward them, her face softening instantly.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to draw attention, but… I couldn't let that stand."
Kael swallowed hard, voice trembling. "You didn't just defend me. You defended us."
Elowen's lips curved into a small, steady smile. "Of course I did."
For a long moment, they simply stood there, the late sun casting long shadows behind them. The world had sharpened its teeth, ready to bite—but together, they had pushed back.
And for the first time since Rys's death, Kael felt that maybe—just maybe—they didn't have to carry everything alone.
---
The week following the tournament unfolded in quiet ripples—shared meals, stolen conversations, unspoken threads weaving tighter between Kael and Elowen. Each encounter felt like a step into uncharted ground, both thrilling and terrifying.
Kael marked the days without meaning to. First day, the awkward but warm lunch where her name had finally become known to them. Second day, an impromptu spar where her strategy forced them to adapt in ways they hadn't expected. Third, a walk through the gardens after dusk. Fourth, the confrontation with Dorian. Fifth and sixth, quieter, calmer—studying side by side in the library, training nearby on the fields, finding comfort not in the extraordinary but in the ordinary.
And then the seventh.
It was early evening, the sky painted deep violet and orange as the sun lowered beyond the academy walls. Kael found Elowen seated beneath a lone oak near the courtyard, a book resting forgotten in her lap as she stared at the horizon.
Kael hesitated before approaching, heart thundering with a nervousness unlike any battlefield they'd ever faced. They inhaled, steadying themselves, and walked forward.
Elowen looked up, her smile immediate and genuine. "Kael. You look like you're carrying something heavy."
They laughed, though it came out shaky. "Maybe I am."
Sitting down beside her, Kael let silence linger for a breath before finally speaking.
"Elowen," they began, voice low, "I've been… thinking. About us. About everything that's happened since we met." Their hands fidgeted against their knees, betraying the storm beneath their calm tone. "I know it hasn't been long. And I know people will think it's too soon, that I'm moving on from Rys without enough care. But that's not true. I'll always carry him with me. He'll always matter."
Her gaze softened, the weight of her attention grounding them.
Kael swallowed. "But what I feel with you—it's real. Stronger than I expected, faster than I imagined. I don't want to ignore it. So…" They drew in a deep breath. "Would you be my girlfriend? Officially?"
Elowen's eyes widened slightly, then softened with unmistakable warmth. She closed the book in her lap, set it aside, and turned fully toward Kael.
"Yes," she said without hesitation. Her smile deepened, gentle but certain. "I'd like that very much."
Relief washed through Kael, so intense it nearly toppled them. They hadn't realized how tense they'd been until the answer came, simple and sure.
Neither reached for the other's hand, not yet. The bond between them didn't need symbols—it was already there, an invisible tether that pulled them closer with every heartbeat.
For the first time since Rys's passing, Kael felt the weight of grief shift—not disappear, but change. Not a chain, but a scar, carried forward. And beside it, something new had begun to bloom.