The sun had dipped behind the horizon, leaving the forest bathed in twilight.Shadows stretched long and thin, crawling between the silvered trunks.
Arin walked in silence, his thoughts tangled with the memory of Seris. Her touch, her voice, the faint warmth of her presence — it lingered like a song he couldn't forget.
Lyara, ever vigilant, walked beside him. Her sword hung loosely at her side, but her eyes were sharp, scanning the forest. Every so often, she would glance at him, her expression conflicted — protective, yet undeniably… curious.
"You shouldn't think about her," she said quietly, almost as if testing herself. "She's dangerous. Gods, even fallen ones… they're unpredictable."
"I don't think of her as dangerous," Arin admitted softly. "Not… in the way you mean."
Lyara's eyes flicked to him, sharp and uncertain. "Then in what way?"
Before he could answer, the air shifted. A soft chime of light, like silver bells caught in a breeze, filled the clearing ahead.
Seris stepped from between two towering trees, her hair spilling over her shoulders in waves of moonlight. Her eyes glimmered, not with divinity this time, but something achingly human — curiosity, and a touch of longing.
"You came," she said, voice smooth and low, almost a caress.
Arin took a step forward. "You told me to find you."
Her lips curved into a faint smile. "And you did." She tilted her head, studying him as though he were both fragile and infinite. "It's… rare to find a mortal who answers a goddess without fear."
Lyara's hand tensed on her sword. "I warned you."
Seris's gaze flicked toward the knight, calm and unafraid. "And yet he stands before me, unharmed. Perhaps he trusts you more than I expected."
Arin felt the bond pulse faintly, like a heartbeat in his chest that didn't belong solely to him. Seris moved closer, just a step, but enough that her presence pressed into him — warm, luminous, intoxicating.
"You carry a light few have ever known," she whispered. "It hums through you, through your very soul. I can feel it — and it calls to me."
Her fingers hovered near his arm, brushing the sleeve of his tunic. Not touching, yet electric. The heat of her proximity seeped into him, stirring a rhythm in his chest he hadn't known existed.
Lyara's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension. "Step back."
Seris's eyes softened as they met Lyara's. "I mean no harm. I only wish to awaken what is already there… gently."
Arin swallowed. "What is already there?"
She leaned slightly closer, so that her breath brushed his ear. "The bond, Arin. It's stronger than you know. And with it, we could share… everything. Joy, fear, even dreams."
The word everything lingered.
Lyara's presence beside him was steady, solid, and grounding, yet the warmth from Seris pressed against him in a way that felt alive — like the pull of the moon itself.
Arin's chest tightened. How can two presences feel so different, yet both so… necessary?
Seris's gaze softened, her voice now almost a whisper. "The bond awakens not with force, but with trust. Will you let it awaken, Arin Vale?"
He looked at her, then at Lyara. Two hearts, two hands, two destinies pressing toward him — and yet he didn't pull away from either.
"I… I want to understand it," he said quietly.
Her smile deepened, soft and faintly wistful. "Then let it begin."
The air shimmered around them. Light wove between his chest and hers — faint at first, then stronger, tangible. His pulse throbbed in response, a slow, intimate rhythm that Seris matched with hers.
Lyara's hand brushed against his shoulder, grounding him, reminding him that he wasn't lost in this. And yet, the warmth from Seris was impossible to ignore.
A single thought echoed inside him: I have never felt so alive… and so torn.
The night deepened, and with it, the bond stirred — delicate, sensuous, inevitable.
Somewhere between fear, trust, and desire, Arin realized that nothing in Elarion would ever be simple again.