CHAPTER THREE – The Hunter's Shadow
Elara woke to the sound of fire.
Not real fire, the echo of it. The memory of a night she could never forget.
Flames licked at her dreams, chasing her through corridors of ash. Voices whispered her name, ancient and angry. Then, as always, came the hand that reached for her through the smok, cold, armored, familiar.
She jolted awake, heart hammering. Her body was slick with sweat.
The ruins around her were still cloaked in dawn mist, pale light filtering through broken arches. The air smelled of dust and damp stone. Beside her, a faint shimmer pulsed in the shadows, Kael, watching silently.
"You were dreaming," he said, voice calm but heavy.
Elara sat up, rubbing her temples. "It wasn't a dream. It was the night of the blood moon again. Every time I close my eyes, I see it."
He studied her quietly. The faint red glow of the sigil on her wrist reflected in his eyes.
"The bond remembers what your mind wishes to forget."
She looked up at him at the spectral form of the warrior bound to her soul. His presence was both comfort and torment. He was not entirely flesh, yet the air around him carried weight, heat, danger.
"Then teach me how to control it," she said firmly. "You said we'd begin at dusk. It's past dawn now."
Kael nodded once. "Very well. But remember this power born of blood answers to emotion, not reason. If you lose control, it will not stop until something dies."
She met his gaze, unwavering. "Then I'll learn fast."
They trained in the courtyard of the fallen citadel, a circle of cracked marble surrounded by dying ivy. Kael moved with the patience of a soldier and the silence of a shadow.
He taught her how to breathe through the pain when the magic rose, how to channel it into focus instead of fury.
"Again," he said. "Draw from your heartbeat. Let the blood speak before the words do."
Elara inhaled, spreading her fingers. Crimson light flickered at her fingertips. A gust of cold wind whipped through the ruins, swirling dust into spirals.
But the energy pulsed too fast, too wild.
"Elara...." Kael started, but the spell erupted before he could finish.
The ground cracked. A surge of raw power burst outward, shattering stones and throwing her off balance. Kael appeared instantly, catching her before she hit the ground.
The world blurred for a moment the air thick with burning energy. His hands were solid, cold and strong against her arms. Shadows curled around them both, taming the outburst.
Elara gasped for breath. "I....I lost it again."
Kael's voice softened. "You didn't lose it. You let it lead."
Their eyes met, close enough for her to see the faint trace of life flickering in his otherwise ghostly features. The connection between them hummed like a living thing her blood answering his darkness.
"Your pulse is bound to mine now," he said quietly. "If you burn, I burn."
Elara's breath caught. "So we're… tied in everything?"
He hesitated then nodded once. "In everything."
The air between them thickened. For a second, the tension felt almost human. Then Kael stepped back, the shadow of duty overtaking whatever passed through him.
"That's enough for today."
But peace never lasted long in Noctara.
Kael stiffened suddenly, head tilting toward the east. The faint shimmer of his form flickered, as though disturbed by something unseen.
"What is it?" Elara asked.
"Silence." He moved toward the edge of the courtyard, eyes narrowing. The horizon trembled faintly, as if the wind itself carried a warning.
Then Elara felt it too a pull beneath her skin, like invisible claws dragging through her blood. Her mark began to ache.
Kael's tone turned grave. "They've found us."
"Already?"
He looked at her sharply. "You used blood power unshielded. The priest's relic feeds on it. He can track the pulse of your magic from miles away."
Panic fluttered in her chest. "Then we have to move."
They fled the citadel through an overgrown archway, descending into the forest that stretched across the valley. The trees were ancient roots coiled like veins, branches whispering secrets in languages long dead. Mist clung to the ground, turning sunlight into shards.
Elara stumbled once, breath uneven. "It feels like the forest is alive."
"It is," Kael replied. "Once, this place was sacred to your kind. Before the Church poisoned it."
The deeper they went, the darker it grew. Every few steps, she felt a flicker of movement in the corner of her vision shadows that didn't belong to Kael.
He noticed her unease. "Don't fear them. They're remnants. Spirits that never left when the witches fell."
Elara tried to calm herself, focusing on the rhythm of their steps. But suddenly, the world shifted. Her vision blurred and for a heartbeat, she wasn't seeing through her eyes anymore.
She saw through Kael's.
The world was sharper, colors inverted all light and darkness reversed. Through his gaze, she saw her own figure glowing faintly red in the mist.
She gasped and stumbled. The connection broke instantly.
"Elara!" Kael caught her arm. "What happened?"
"I saw..." she panted, "I saw what you see. For a moment."
His expression hardened. "The bond is growing stronger than it should. That shouldn't be possible."
"Maybe it's the magic between us," she said.
He frowned. "Or something else is forcing it closer."
A horn shattered the silence.
The sound rolled through the trees low, metallic, and hateful.
Kael's eyes flashed. "They're here."
Elara turned, and out of the mist came riders in black armor, the Black Guard. Their blades gleamed with consecrated silver, the kind that burned witch blood on contact.
At their center rode a man cloaked in crimson. His voice carried across the forest, dark and commanding. "By order of the Black Church, surrender the witch and her cursed protector!"
Elara's breath froze. "He's not here himself," Kael muttered. "He's sent his hounds."
The soldiers closed in. Kael drew his sword, the black flame reawakening with a hiss. "Stay behind me."
But Elara shook her head, blood already humming through her veins. "No. I'm done hiding."
She raised her hands. Power surged, wilder than before. The ground beneath them trembled, trees bowing under invisible force.
"Elara...control it!" Kael barked.
"I'm trying!"
The first soldier charged. Kael met him with a slash that split armor like paper. The next arrow struck near Elara's shoulder and that was all it took.
The world exploded.
A storm of crimson light erupted from her palms, spiraling upward like a living cyclone. The wind screamed, the trees cracked, and the soldiers were thrown aside like dolls. Lightning, not of sky but of blood struck the earth in burning patterns.
Kael moved through the chaos like a shadow given purpose, his blade a blur of black light. For every soldier that rose, two fell.
But even as they fought, Elara felt her strength faltering. The magic was consuming her, drawing too much too fast.
Kael turned toward her, voice sharp. "Stop! You'll kill yourself!"
She couldn't. The power roared, hungry, endless.
So Kael did the only thing he could, he reached for her.
He caught her wrist, forcing their marks together. The moment they touched, the storm died. Shadows swallowed the light, sealing it shut.
Elara collapsed into him, trembling, breath shallow. "I....I lost control again…"
Kael held her steady, his voice low. "You didn't lose it. You just don't understand it yet."
The forest around them was ruined, trees shattered, earth torn apart, air thick with the scent of burnt iron. The surviving soldiers fled, dragging their wounded with them.
Kael glanced at the rising smoke. "They'll return with more. We need to move before nightfall."
Elara looked down at her hands, still faintly glowing. "I felt something… something ancient. Like the forest itself woke up through me."
He didn't answer. His gaze lingered on her mark, now darker and pulsing faster.
"What?" she asked.
"The bond's changing," he said. "The more power you use, the more it draws us together and the easier it is for him to find us."
Elara's stomach twisted. "So every time I fight, I lead him closer?"
Kael nodded grimly. "Yes. And he's already watching."
Miles away, in the desecrated chapel, Father Malric stood before the Eye of Veyra. The relic trembled violently, spilling blood-red light across the walls.
He smiled as the vision unfolded, Elara and Kael standing amid burning trees, their marks blazing in unison.
"So," he whispered, "the witch bleeds, and the knight shields her. The covenant strengthens."
He pressed his bleeding hand to the relic.
"Let it. The higher they rise, the sweeter the fall."
Thunder rolled in the distance the same storm that carried their scent.
Malric turned toward his followers. "We ride at dusk."