(Cael's POV)
Cael whispered. The Vault was silent now, too quiet. There was no longer a light hum in the air, but instead a metallic scent, reminiscent of old blood. The sigils on the walls blinked in and out.
Cael hunkered down at the bottom of a pillar, his wings half unfurled, the feathers having lost their brightness in the obscurity. Everything he did hurt, but pain was good—it meant he was still tethered to this place, rather than being torn asunder by what the Vault had endeavored to rouse.
Elara was only a few feet away, breathing lightly but consistently. The faint gold lines that had been seared into her skin are receding, leaving behind faint tracings that look like veins of light.
He had nearly lost her. Again, again.
He watched her stir, lashes fluttering before her eyes opened—clear, wary, older somehow.
"Cael?" Her voice was hoarse, barely audible.
He gave a single nod of his head. "You're safe. For now."
She slowly brought herself up, eyes sweeping the room. "The light, where did it go?"
"Back to sleep. The Vault recognizes you now. It will not touch you again."
She rubbed her temples and furrowed her brow. "I saw things. Not sleepwalking, not lying there, pretending. I don't know what those things are supposed to have been."
Cael remained silent. She pivoted.
"Tell me the truth," she said. "Who was I to you?"
He turned away. "You were born to forget."
"Then why did you bring me here?""
"Because Heaven already made its mark on you. Because they will hunt you down until you are burning, and I thought I could keep you from view long enough to—" He stopped. The rest felt like a confession.
"To what?" she pressed.
"Undo what I did."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and uneven. The water below them rippled with no wind to move it.
"You fell because of me," she whispered.
"'Not because of you. For you."
The words escaped before he could pull them back. She froze, lips parted, looking at his face for some kind of meaning.
"Why would you—"
"Because I couldn't look while they were turning you into a weapon," he said, rising. His voice hardened. "You were meant to be something else. Something bright. When they turned you into bait for their war, I broke the chain. I thought I could catch you before you hit the ground."
Elara swallowed. "And now?"
"Just trying to make sure they don't find the pieces, that's all I'm doing now."
Her eyes softened, confusion transforming to something sadder. "I saw us, Cael. In the light. You held my hand before the fall."
"That was another lifetime," he murmured.
"But it was real."
Everything we lose seems real," he said. "That is the curse."
For one long silent moment neither of them moved. The only noise was the faint dripping of water.
Elara at last got to her feet, unsteady but defiant. "You're hiding more than the vault, aren't you?"
Cael looked at her, and there was no distance for the first time. "Yes. And when you remember the rest, you'll understand why the angels want you erased."
The vault groaned again, a subterranean—shouldn't have—sound. Cael spun abruptly around at the sound. The sigils on the far wall were lighting up, one by one—someone was trying to break the seal from the outside.
"They found us," he whispered.
Elara's fingers curled tighter around his arm. "And what then?"
Cael's wings finally ended their ascent, the air now shimmering with its dark light. "We run," he said, "and hope the world hasn't run out of mercy."