The final candle flickered and died out.
Dimness took over in the church, but it wasn't abandoned. Elara could sense it — the pressure of something immense, invisible, bearing in on the walls.
Cael was standing still at the center aisle, his eyes locked on the altar. Beneath his skin, gold light flickered dimly, beating to the rhythm of his heart.
"Cael?" Her voice was a whisper.
"They can't come in," he whispered. "Not yet. But they listen."
She swallowed. "Sal que quieren?"
He did not reply. Instead, he looked up — eyes glimmering with the faint stained-glass light. "Heaven doesn't forgive mistakes. Especially the kind that bleed."
Elara's hands shook. "Is that what you think I am? A mistake?"
For the first time since she'd met him, there was a crack in his expression — not physically, but in a way that suggested suffering too immense for eternity.
"You're a consequence," he said softly. "But that doesn't make you less real." "But that doesn't make you less real," he said softly.
Her chest tightened at the melancholy in his voice. "You sound as if you have already been defeated in battle."
"I did," he whispered. "A long time ago."
He turned away and made his way to the altar. His reflection shimmered faintly in the glass of a candle holder, wings darkening behind him even if they were not really there.
Elara followed him at a snail's pace. "You keep saying you're fallen, but you still protect me. Why?"
"Because I remember what it's like to believe."
"Believe in what?"
"In something good."
The silence which followed was oppressive — too private, too perilous.
She rose, fingers grazing his sleeve. He didn't pull away, but his body froze, every muscle caught in a tug-of-war between wanting to move and needing to stay put.
"Cael," she said in a barely audible voice. "You told me that if Heaven tracks you, they will track me. But what if… what if there's another way?"
As she looked down at her hand, it still held him. A slight smile ghosted across his lips — it was not warm, but it conveyed something almost human.
"You're brave, Elara. But you don't seem to grasp the magnitude of what you're demanding."
"I want you to be honest with me."
From under his throat the golden light flickered once and he exhaled calmly.
"The truth is, when I saw you by the lake, I mistook you for a memory. I believed Heaven was ridiculing me, letting me glance at her face once more. But then you spoke."
Turning toward her fully, his mask slipped for a moment. His eyes weren't cold now. They were afraid. They were scared. " "You weren't supposed to exist."
Elara's breath hitched. "What do you mean?" "What do you mean?"
"She was erased. Every trace of her. No one should have known her name. He moved closer, his voice nothing more than breath.
"But you bear it, for some reason. The same eyes. The same soul pattern. The same—"
He halted himself, shaking his head. "It's irrelevant. You're not her. You can't be."
Elara's heart pounded in her ears. "So why do I get the feeling that I've met you before?"
"Because you have," he said quietly. "But you were never supposed to know."
The words hung in the silence – heavier than the storm outdoors.
Her voice quavered. "Who was I? "
Cael regarded her long, then turned away, jaw clenched.
"The reason I fell."
The silence afterward seemed like a suspended breath from the world itself.
Outside, the thunder rumbled again – far away, patient.
Inside, the church was dark.
Elara took one step toward him. "Then maybe I was meant to find you once more."
Ae'Jub's shoulders stiffened. When he spoke, his voice was raw.
"If you believe that then H heaven is not the only thing I will need to fight."