The Ruins
The sun dipped low behind the trees, setting the sky ablaze with streaks of crimson and violet. Elira stood at the edge of the ancient ruins—once a temple, now no more than crumbled pillars and moss-stained stones.
The air buzzed with latent magic. Old magic. Forgotten by most.
She was alone—or so Kael would think.
Rian crouched in the thick underbrush fifty yards away, a glamour woven around him. Watching. Listening. Ready.
Elira stepped into the clearing just as Kael emerged from the other side, his silhouette framed by dying light. No armor tonight—just black leather and a traveler's cloak. His sword was still at his side.
But it wasn't drawn.
"You came," he said, voice low.
"I'm not here to play games, Commander."
"Good," Kael replied. "Because I'm tired of them, too."
They circled each other slowly, like two predators uncertain who would strike first.
"You set my brother up," Elira said. "Or you let someone else do it."
Kael's jaw tensed. "If I wanted your brother dead, I wouldn't need tricks."
She stepped closer, daring. "Then why? Why frame him? Why this performance?"
Kael pulled something from his cloak—a second scroll, burned at the edges.
"This was intercepted three days ago," he said, handing it to her.
She opened it. The writing was old, looping. Ember script. Her grandmother's language.
The girl is alive. The bloodline endures.
Bring her to Frosthold. Her power must be bound before it awakens fully.
Do not let Draven suspect the truth.
Elira's breath caught. Her vision swam.
"I was never supposed to know," she whispered.
"No," Kael said. "You were supposed to be a prisoner. A weapon they could control."
She looked up at him. "And you?"
Kael's eyes darkened. "I was ordered to deliver you. But I made you a bargain instead."
"Why?"
A long silence.
Then, quietly: "Because I don't believe in burning down the world to control it. And because I've seen what happens when people like you are broken to serve kings."
Behind them, Rian's hand closed around the hilt of his dagger.
His eyes narrowed.
Because to him, it didn't sound like a confession.
It sounded like a man falling in love.