The neutral hall smelled of stone, salt air, and faint incense.It was designed to be unremarkable—whitewashed walls, a long polished table, a single candle guttering in the center.
Kael entered first, blade sheathed, golden gauntlets off, shoulders tight with control. Three of his closest advisors followed at a distance.
Lyra was already there, standing with arms crossed, shadow draped across her like a cloak. Her eyes flicked up once, assessed him, then returned to the maps spread on the table.
The maps showed the Crescent Sea, the disputed borderlands, and tiny red and blue markers: Dominion troops, Moon Court garrisons, strategic chokepoints.
"This," Kael said, voice low, "is where Eclipse energy could hit hardest." He tapped a narrow strip of land near the coast. "If either side moves forces without restraint, the surge will destabilize everything."
Lyra did not look at him. "Or someone triggers it intentionally. Either by accident or design."
He let a slow breath out. "Accident or design, we need to plan around it."
Her shadow flicked slightly toward him—like a warning. Kael noticed, controlled the faint heat rising in his chest.
"You are unusually… measured," she said, finally lifting her gaze. "For a fire-wielder."
"And you are unusually… bold," he replied. "For someone who wields shadow."
Their words were polite. Their bodies said otherwise.
Lyra stepped closer to the map, deliberately brushing the tip of her finger along a supply line. Kael's pulse reacted before his mind could catch it. White edges flickered briefly in the veins beneath his skin.
"You do not hesitate," she said softly, almost a challenge. "Even when it could cost lives."
"Neither do you," he countered, voice equally low. "Your shadow does not flinch from this map. From this plan. From me."
Her eyes narrowed. "I flinch from nothing that threatens my survival. Or my advantage."
Kael leaned over the table, tilting his head to read the small, precise troop movements she had suggested. His shoulder brushed the back of her hand as he reached for a marker.
Neither moved away.
Her shadow lifted subtly behind her, tracing the line of his arm. He felt it brush the edges of his Solar mark—not touching, not assaulting, just… acknowledging presence.
He exhaled slowly. "You calculate with precision. But you are still unpredictable."
She met his gaze fully now. "The day I am predictable is the day Dominion flames eat me alive."
A pause. The candle flickered between them.
"Your restraint is… impressive," Kael admitted. The word was heavy with implication. Not a compliment. Not a threat. Just recognition.
Lyra's lips curved faintly. Not a smile. Not mockery. A warning. "Your fire is… controlled. More than I expected."
Control. Restraint. Recognition. Words neither of them dared speak aloud in full.
They spent hours over the map—discussing supply lines, patrol rotations, and predicted Eclipse surges. Every time their hands hovered over the same marker, every time their eyes met across the table, a current passed.
Neither moved closer than necessary, yet the tension in the room was unbearable. Solar and shadow reacted in tandem—white edges flickered beneath Kael's skin, and Lyra's shadow stirred in ways that mirrored his heartbeat.
Finally, she leaned back, exhaling slowly. "This truce… this binding… it is temporary. And fragile."
"I know," Kael replied. "Which is why every move must be precise. Every word… calculated."
"And yet," she said, voice dropping just slightly, "we are standing this close… in secret."
His eyes flicked down to her hands, then back to her eyes. "It is necessary," he said. "And dangerous."
A long silence.
The candle guttered again. Shadows danced across the walls. Neither flinched. Neither broke gaze.
Finally, Lyra leaned forward slightly, tracing a supply line with her finger. "Do you always hold back your fire this well?"
Kael's jaw flexed. "Not always."
A faint pulse—unspoken acknowledgment—passed between them.
The room was small, the maps cold, the strategies deadly. And yet, nothing on that table was as dangerous as the fire and shadow standing across from each other.
For the first time, Kael understood one truth: the ritual would not test their skill. It would test their control over themselves… and each other.
And neither of them knew if they would survive that.