Aeryn didn't remember the exact moment he fell asleep—only that his body finally gave out after hours of tension, adrenaline, fear, and grief stacked on top of each other. He'd still been clutching Serin's hand when exhaustion finally wrapped around him, pulling him under.
He half–expected nightmares.
But what he awakened to was something else entirely.
A gentle warmth. Soft breathing. And the faint scent of mint and wildflowers.
Aeryn's eyes opened slowly.
Serin was still curled beside him—not in the desperate, half-broken way she slept right after the collapse, but… calmer. Her face pressed lightly against his shoulder, hair messy, ears flicking occasionally. She was breathing evenly. Peacefully.
For the first time in what felt like weeks, she looked like someone who wasn't fighting against the world.
Aeryn didn't speak. Didn't move much. Just tightened the cloak covering her so she wouldn't get cold. The cavern was warm, but still carried a faint draft.
Across the camp, Eryndor was sitting with his back to a rock, arms crossed, eyes closed—not asleep, but resting. The man rarely let himself sleep more than a few minutes at a time. Especially now.
Aeryn took a quiet breath and finally eased himself upright.
Serin stirred.
Her fingers unconsciously reached for him.
"Aeryn…?" she murmured, voice still thick with sleep.
"I'm here," he answered softly. "It's okay."
She blinked her eyes open, realized how close she was to him—and immediately went stiff, cheeks going red.
"I—I wasn't… I didn't mean to—"
"Don't worry," Aeryn said. "You needed rest. That's all."
Serin buried her face in her hands with a small groan.
"This is so embarrassing…"
Aeryn almost smiled. Almost. But the heaviness of everything they'd been through made it stay small.
"You hungry?" he asked.
She peeked through her fingers, ears flicking. "…Yes."
"Good. Because we need to eat and then talk."
Right as he said it, Eryndor opened his eyes.
"Talking," Eryndor said dryly, "is long overdue."
---
The Conversation No One Wanted to Have
They gathered around a small magically-kindled flame. Not quite a campfire—more like a tiny sphere of controlled heat that floated in the center, giving warm light without smoke or scent.
Serin warmed her hands over it while Aeryn quietly ate the last of the dried fruit. Eryndor didn't eat. He rarely did when he was thinking, and right now, his mind was clearly turning like a grinding stone.
Finally, the elf sighed.
"We need to address what we learned last night."
Aeryn nodded. "About the corrupted mana stream."
"And the one responsible," Eryndor added. "The entity Serin sensed. The one that tried to take control of Aeryn."
Serin's shoulders tightened.
"That thing wasn't just a creature," she whispered. "It felt like a… consciousness. An intelligence." She shivered. "And cruel."
Aeryn remembered the voice in his head. The pressure. The way the world blurred around the edges while something tried to root itself into him like a parasite.
"Whatever it was," Aeryn said, "it wanted a vessel. And I just happened to be close enough—or weak enough—for it to try."
Serin flinched. Hard.
"You're not weak."
Aeryn met her eyes.
"Serin, we both know compared to you and Eryndor, I'm—"
"You're not weak," she repeated, louder this time. "That thing was ancient. I could barely sense it until it touched you. If anything, the fact you resisted it is proof you're stronger than you realize."
Aeryn didn't answer.
But her tone left no room for argument.
Eryndor leaned forward.
"This entity… it didn't fully manifest. Which means something or someone is holding it back. But the corruption in the mana stream suggests its influence is spreading."
Aeryn frowned. "Meaning we're running out of time."
"Correct."
Serin hugged her knees.
"But we don't know where to go. Or how to stop it."
Aeryn exhaled slowly.
"We find answers. Starting with the ruins we saw glimpses of in that memory echo."
Serin's eyes widened. "The ancient elven structure?"
"Yes," Aeryn said. "The one that appeared right before everything went dark. If that place is connected to this entity, it might have records. Or warnings. Something."
Eryndor nodded.
"That is the closest lead we have. And it fits with the old legends… tales of a sealed presence in the north. A being forgotten by history."
Aeryn raised an eyebrow.
"You knew about that?"
"I suspected," Eryndor admitted. "But until last night, it was just a rumor. The kind of myth older elves mention when they want younglings to respect the forest's boundaries."
Serin made a noise halfway between a groan and a sigh.
"So the myth is real. Great."
Aeryn looked at her.
"You scared?"
"Obviously," she muttered. "Are you not?"
Aeryn shrugged. "I'd be stupid not to be. But being scared doesn't stop what's coming."
Serin stared at him for a moment, then let out a small laugh.
"…You're getting better at this."
Aeryn blinked. "At what?"
"Acting like a leader."
He choked lightly. "I'm not—"
"You are," she said firmly. "And we need that."
Eryndor nodded, surprisingly agreeing.
"Leadership isn't about being the strongest. It's about being the one others trust to move forward. And right now, Aeryn, you are that person."
Aeryn didn't know what to say to that.
So he said nothing.
---
A Path Forward
They packed camp and began traveling west. The cavern system stretched endlessly, carved by ancient mana streams that shifted in color from deep blue to shimmering violet.
Walking through them felt like passing through the veins of the world.
"Aeryn."
He turned. Serin was walking beside him, expression softer than usual.
"I… I'm sorry. For last night."
Aeryn frowned. "What for?"
"For breaking down. For putting pressure on you. For making you carry both of us."
"You didn't," he said.
She stopped walking.
"Aeryn. You almost lost control. I saw your face. I felt your mana spike like it was trying to tear out of your body. And then I—" Her voice cracked. "I couldn't help you. I could only hold onto you and hope you didn't disappear."
Aeryn took a breath.
He stepped closer, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
"You helped," he said. "If you hadn't been there, I might've lost myself completely."
Her eyes widened.
"And besides," Aeryn continued, "you're allowed to break sometimes. Do you think I don't feel like that too? I just… don't show it the same way."
Serin looked away.
"But you didn't cry."
Aeryn snorted. "Give me time. I'll get there."
Serin smacked his arm. "That's not funny."
"Did it make you smile?"
She paused.
"…Maybe."
"Then it was worth it."
Her ears reddened again, but she kept walking without arguing further.
---
Eryndor's Revelation
Hours later, when they climbed up to a cliff overlooking a glowing underground lake, Eryndor called them over.
"There's something I haven't told you."
Aeryn and Serin exchanged looks.
"What is it?" Aeryn asked.
Eryndor's expression sharpened.
"That entity—the one that tried to take you, Aeryn? I've sensed it before."
Aeryn froze.
Serin nearly dropped her staff.
"You what?!"
Eryndor looked over the shimmering water.
"Years ago. Before you were born. There was a disturbance in the mana flow. A pressure in the air, like something ancient was stirring. The elders dismissed it as a flux event. But I didn't."
He closed his eyes.
"And now that same aura has returned… stronger."
Aeryn felt his heartbeat climb.
"Why tell us now?"
"Because lying would endanger you." Eryndor's voice was firm. "And because I suspect this entity has been waiting. Watching. Searching for a vessel that could survive its power."
Serin's gaze shot to Aeryn, horrified.
"No… No, it can't be—"
Aeryn exhaled.
"It makes sense."
"Aeryn," Serin said sharply.
"It does," he insisted. "My mana doesn't behave like normal human mana. Even before I met you two, things reacted to me differently. Monsters. Relics. That old ruin that opened by itself when I touched it."
Serin grabbed his arm tightly.
"That doesn't mean you're meant for this."
Aeryn placed his hand over hers.
"I know. But it means we need to be careful."
Eryndor nodded.
"For now, the best course is to reach the ruins. If they hold records or seals, they may tell us how to stop this entity—or prevent it from taking Aeryn again."
Aeryn swallowed.
"Then that's where we're going."
---
Nightfall and Quiet Fears
When they finally set up camp for the night, Serin leaned against the cavern wall, staring at the faintly glowing crystals overhead.
Aeryn approached slowly.
"You okay?"
"…No."
Aeryn sat beside her.
"Talk to me."
She hesitated.
Then finally whispered:
"I'm scared of losing you."
Aeryn didn't respond immediately. He looked at the glowing lake. The reflection of the crystals shimmered like stars trapped beneath water.
"Serin," he said quietly, "I'm scared of losing myself."
She turned toward him sharply.
"But that's why we're moving forward. Not running. Fighting."
Serin's throat tightened.
"You're too calm about this."
Aeryn gave her a tired smile.
"No. I'm just getting better at not letting fear freeze me."
She stared at him.
Then—slowly—rested her head on his shoulder.
"Don't disappear," she whispered.
"I won't," Aeryn said.
And because she needed it—because he needed it too—he added:
"I promise."
---
The Calm Before What Comes Next
The cavern hummed. The mana stream pulsed faintly beneath the ground. Eryndor's silhouette stood watch in the distance, unmoving but vigilant.
Tomorrow, they would reach the entrance to the ancient elven ruins.
Tomorrow, they might find answers.
Or they might find something far worse.
But for now—for tonight—Aeryn let himself rest.
Because the path ahead would demand more strength, more courage, and more resolve than anything before.
And he knew the weight of what came next would change everything.