Lira dragged Kael through the forest until her arms felt numb and her legs shook like brittle twigs.
The sky darkened.
The temperature dropped.
Night crawled in like a predator.
She couldn't keep moving.
Just when her strength began to collapse, she spotted a structure through the trees — an old stone ruin half-swallowed by vines. A broken archway, cracked pillars, and scattered rubble hinted at a temple long forgotten.
Lira exhaled shakily.
"Perfect… please… let this work…"
She pulled Kael inside, laying him against a piece of broken wall. His body was cold — too cold — and unmoving.
Lira knelt beside him, wiping dirt and blood from his cheek with trembling fingers.
"You're still breathing," she whispered. "So don't you dare stop."
Kael didn't respond.
His chest rose and fell shallowly, shadows flickering faintly beneath his skin like dying candlelight.
Lira looked at her pendant. The soft glow had faded.
"Please," she begged softly, "just help him a little more…"
The pendant pulsed once — a faint heartbeat of light — before going dim again.
She bit her lip.
Fine.
If magic wouldn't help, she would.
She tore strips of cloth from her dress, pressing them against Kael's wounds. The dark blood stained the fabric instantly, but she kept going, hands steady even as tears spilled down her cheeks.
"You saved me," she whispered, voice cracking. "I won't let you die out here."
She didn't know how long she worked.
Minutes.
Hours.
Time dissolved into the rhythm of fear and determination.
Finally, Kael's breathing grew a little steadier — not normal, not safe — but less desperate.
Lira slumped beside him, exhausted.
Just as she closed her eyes—
Kael jerked violently.
His body arched off the stone floor, breath caught in a silent scream.
Lira shot upright. "Kael?!"
His hands clawed at the air.
"No—no—stop—" he gasped. "Not again—don't—don't—"
He wasn't awake.
He was dreaming.
A nightmare.
Lira grabbed his hand. "Kael! Wake up! Please!"
But his eyes stayed closed, trapped in some memory far darker than any monster in the forest.
His voice cracked.
Small.
Terrified.
"Let me go… please… stop the ritual… it hurts…"
Lira froze.
Ritual?
Kael thrashed violently, shadows spilling from his body in waves. They clawed at the ground, writhing like serpents — but they didn't attack her.
They were lost.
Panicked.
Confused.
Just like him.
Lira moved closer, pressing her forehead against his.
"You're safe," she whispered desperately. "You're not there anymore. You're here. With me."
His breathing hitched.
The shadows flinched.
Then Kael whispered something that made Lira's entire body go cold:
"I don't want to kill anymore…"
Lira's heart broke.
That wasn't a monster's voice.
That wasn't a killer's.
That was a child's voice.
A boy who had begged for mercy… and never gotten it.
Lira grabbed his face gently. "Kael, wake up. Please — come back."
The shadows recoiled suddenly, sinking back into his skin.
Kael's body went still.
Then his eyes snapped open — glowing red, sharp with instinct.
His hand shot out, grabbing Lira's throat.
Lira gasped, frozen in shock.
For a split second, Kael's eyes didn't recognize her. They saw danger. Enemy. Threat.
His grip tightened.
Lira choked, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Kael… it's… me…"
Her voice cracked… but it reached him.
Kael blinked.
His hand trembled.
Then he released her instantly, stumbling back as if burned.
"I—didn't—mean—" he rasped, horror spreading across his face. "I didn't know—it was you…"
He pressed a hand to his head, breathing harshly. "I thought… I was still there… in the Forge…"
Lira rubbed her throat gently, coughing.
"It's okay," she whispered.
"No," Kael snapped, shaking his head violently. "It's not."
He stared at his hands — the hands that had nearly strangled her — as if they were drenched in poison.
"I hurt you," he whispered. "I always hurt everything."
Lira crawled to him despite his attempts to move away.
She placed her hand over his.
He flinched.
But she didn't let go.
"You didn't hurt me," she said softly. "You were scared."
Kael looked at her with something raw in his eyes.
Fear.
Guilt.
Confusion.
"I don't… understand you," he admitted.
Lira smiled — tired, soft, and full of warmth he had never known.
"You don't have to," she whispered. "Just rest. I'll keep watch."
Kael stared at her a long time, shadows shifting quietly around him.
Then, finally… he let his eyes close.
Not from pain.
Not from exhaustion.
But because, for the first time in his life—
he trusted someone enough to sleep.