The world resolved around them with a shudder.
Arianna stumbled as her feet hit solid ground again—cold stone, damp air, a faint echo like a cavern carved from silence. Kaelith released her only when he felt her steady herself.
Shadow traveled late to her senses; it peeled off him like mist retreating from sunrise, folding back into the space around them until the last whisper dissolved.
Arianna blinked rapidly. "Where…where are we?"
Kaelith's voice was low, strained at the edges.
"A refuge."
Not his refuge.
Not their refuge.
A refuge.
Carefully chosen words.
As her eyes adjusted, the space took form: an underground chamber, smooth-walled and circular, lit by faint violet lines embedded in the stone—runes carved with purpose. At the center lay an altar of obsidian, cracked but stable. The air hummed with old magic, neither light nor dark, a neutral zone held together by forgotten design.
A sanctuary for the outcast.
For the hunted.
Kaelith exhaled slowly, his posture loosening as though he'd been holding the world on his shoulders and could finally shed a fraction of the weight.
Arianna turned to him—and gasped.
His injury, the one he had brushed off as "inconsequential," was soaking through his shirt now, black-red like spilled ink. Sweat glistened along his jaw, and a faint tremor rippled through his hand when he tried to hide it.
"Kaelith—sit down," she said immediately.
"I'm fine."
The lie was effortless.
"You're bleeding through your coat."
"It will fade."
"It's not fading now."
He opened his mouth to argue again—Kaelith was predictable in his stubbornness—but the moment his weight shifted, pain shot through him. His jaw tightened, his breath clipped, and he braced a hand against the altar to stay upright.
Arianna moved to his side. "Sit, please."
A beat of hesitation.
Then, with a grudging exhale, he obeyed, lowering himself onto a fallen slab of stone. His shoulders sagged, a crack in the armor he rarely let fall.
She crouched beside him. "Let me help."
He stared at her with an unreadable expression. "Arianna, you don't know how."
"Then tell me."
His gaze dropped, dark and considering. "You shouldn't touch corrupted wounds."
"But you can?"
Silence. Then:
"I've lived long enough to learn."
Her chest tightened. A thousand questions pressed against her tongue, but the sight of the wound swallowed everything else. She reached for his coat, pausing just before she touched it.
"May I?"
Kaelith's breath hitched—not from pain.
"Do what you must."
She pulled the fabric aside, revealing the full gash: jagged, seared along the edges, still pulsing with golden residue from the sentinel's core. The corrupted glow hissed against his skin, like a brand stubbornly refusing to die.
Arianna flinched at the sight. "This is worse than I thought."
"It was designed to be fatal to my kind."
His tone was clinical, but there was an undertone she had never heard before.
"Or rather…to what remains of my kind."
"Then why didn't you say anything?"
"Because stopping to discuss it would have gotten us killed."
Her throat tightened. "And now?"
His eyes flicked to her.
"Now we're briefly safe."
She rested her hand near the wound, not touching—just hovering. "Tell me what to do."
Kaelith's voice softened by a fraction.
"You don't need to—"
"I want to."
His breath stilled.
He looked away as though unused to being tended to. "The residue must be neutralized. It's celestial."
Arianna frowned. "But I don't have celestial magic."
"No. But you are attuned to something that can counter it."
"My…shadow?"
"Not your shadow." His gaze returned to her, deeper, heavier. "Your origin."
A tremor passed through her chest, the same cold spark she felt when the sentinel appeared, when Kaelith said her name in a voice that broke a little.
She swallowed. "I don't understand."
His expression tightened, a conflict moving behind his eyes. "You don't have to. Just focus on the wound. Let your instincts guide you."
Instincts?
What instincts?
Still—she placed her hand gently against the uninjured skin near the burn. Kaelith inhaled sharply at the contact, muscles tensing under her palm.
"Does it hurt?"
"No," he said too quickly.
Then, quieter: "Not in the way you mean."
The room felt smaller suddenly.
Warmer.
Arianna took a breath, closed her eyes, and reached for the strange cold within her. It was there, as if waiting—patient, ancient, familiar. A pulse of frost crept down her veins to her fingertips.
Kaelith's breath shivered.
Light—soft, dim, silver-blue—glowed beneath her hand, swirling around the wound. The golden corruption recoiled like a living thing, sizzling as it touched her energy.
Arianna flinched. "Is that supposed to happen?"
"Yes."
A low whisper.
"You're drawing it out."
The glow intensified. Her hand shook with the effort. Kaelith gripped the stone at his side, not from pain—the opposite. Something in the magic resonated with him, grounding him, pulling him closer.
The last thread of golden residue dissolved into a faint puff of light.
Arianna withdrew her hand, breathless. "Is it…gone?"
Kaelith touched the wound—now dull, no longer glowing—and nodded. "It will heal naturally."
Relief crashed through her. "Good."
He said nothing at first. Just watched her, an unreadable storm in his eyes.
She looked away, flustered. "What?"
"You shouldn't be able to do that," he said quietly.
"But I did."
"Yes," he murmured. "And that concerns me."
Arianna's pulse skipped. "Why?"
"Because your abilities are…awakening faster than they should." His jaw tightened. "Your very presence is accelerating beyond what contact with me alone can explain."
"So what does that mean?"
He hesitated—only for a heartbeat.
Then:
"It means Solaryn isn't waiting for you to remember. He's forcing your awakening prematurely."
A chill scraped down her spine. "Why would he do that?"
Kaelith's voice dropped to a near-whisper.
"Because the moment you remember everything…he believes he can claim you."
Her stomach sank. "Claim me?"
"As his sister."
A pause.
"And as the only soul whose power can rival his."
Arianna felt the world tilt. "But I don't even know who I was."
"You will." His gaze wavered. "Too soon."
Silence settled heavily between them.
After a long moment, Arianna lowered herself to sit beside him. "Kaelith…what he did back there—the sentinel. He was watching us through it."
"Yes."
"So he saw us?"
His jaw clenched.
"He saw you."
She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm scared."
"I know."
His voice softened in a way she had rarely heard.
"And I'm trying to buy you time. But Solaryn's reach grows every hour."
"Then we need a plan."
"We will form one," he said slowly. "But you need rest first."
She blinked. "I'm not tired—"
"You crossed realms while destabilized. Your magic surged. You used an ability you've never learned." He met her eyes. "Yes, you are tired. You just haven't crashed yet."
As if on cue, her limbs suddenly felt heavy.
Very heavy.
Arianna exhaled shakily. "Okay. Maybe…maybe a little tired."
"This sanctuary will hold."
Kaelith shifted, wincing quietly but hiding most of it. "Sleep while you can."
She lowered herself onto the smooth stone floor, exhaustion sweeping over her like a tide. Kaelith watched her for a moment—guarded, thoughtful, shadowed.
"Will you rest too?" she murmured.
"I'll keep watch."
She half-smiled. "You always do."
Kaelith didn't respond.
But a flicker crossed his features—something sharp, something grieving, something she didn't understand.
As her eyes drifted shut, the last thing she felt was Kaelith's presence near her—closer than before.
A silent vow in the shadows.