The mornings felt heavier without Seren.
For days now, Elyon had taken the same quiet seat outside the herb shop—his back against the old willow tree, hands loosely clasped, gray eyes fixed on the road she once walked every sunrise. The village bustled around him, carts creaking, merchants shouting, children chasing each other through the mud. But in Elyon's ears, everything sounded distant, like echoes underwater.
He missed her.
Not her beauty—he had grown used to that.
He missed the small things no one else noticed.
How Seren tilted her head slightly before speaking.
How she hummed softly when arranging herbs.
How she tucked a stray curl behind her ear whenever she felt shy.
How she pretended to be strong but flinched at loneliness.
He missed the version of her that no admirer ever saw.
"Still waiting?"
Elyon turned slightly. Mrs. Vale, Seren's mother, stood beside the door with a woven basket in her hands. Her eyes were warm but pained—the look of a woman who understood more than she spoke.
"She'll come back," Elyon answered quietly.
"I know," Mrs. Vale said softly. "But I worry. She's never left the village like this. Something must've frightened her."
Elyon didn't respond.
He knew exactly what frightened her.
Him.
Not because he scared her—but because his kindness did. Seren had spent her whole life being loved for shallow things. When someone finally saw her, not her face… it broke her defenses. It forced her to feel something she had never allowed herself to feel.
She ran from him because she didn't know how to stay.
"I'll find her," Elyon said finally, rising to his feet.
Mrs. Vale shook her head. "The woods are dangerous past the river. Even hunters don't go there."
"I'm not a hunter," he said softly. "I'm looking for someone."
The older woman touched his arm, worry etched across her face. "Then promise me you'll come back safe. Seren would hate herself if something happened to you."
A faint smile tugged at Elyon's lips. "I can't promise that. But I can promise I'll find her."
Before Mrs. Vale could speak again, Elyon lifted his hood and stepped onto the forest path.
Not as a suitor.
Not as a hero.
Not as a man chasing love.
But as someone who couldn't bear the thought of her being alone.
---
THE FOREST OF WHISPERS
The woods past the village were unlike any normal forest. Ancient trees twisted upward like broken ribs, their branches dripping with silver moss that swayed without wind. The ground shimmered faintly, glowing with faint blue fungi. Shadows slithered where no creature moved.
Elyon stepped into the mist, boots sinking into soft earth.
Silence wrapped around him.
Then—
A whisper.
A soft, almost human cry.
Elyon paused, muscles tensing. "Seren?"
The forest stirred. Leaves rustled without any wind. Something scuttled across the branches. Elyon's hand instinctively reached for the dagger hidden beneath his cloak—a worn but well-kept blade he rarely used.
A cold breath brushed against the back of his neck.
Not wind.
A presence.
"Show yourself," Elyon said quietly.
A creature crawled out from behind a gnarled root—its limbs long and thin, its eyes glowing like pale moons. Its jaw split into four sharp segments as it hissed.
A Nightling.
A creature that hunted fear.
Elyon's jaw tightened. He had hoped to avoid them.
The Nightling crouched, preparing to leap.
But Elyon didn't run.
Instead, he closed his eyes.
"I'm not afraid," he whispered.
The creature froze.
Nightlings fed on terror—on dread, on panic, on trembling hearts. Elyon's heart was steady, calm as still water. Nothing stirred inside him except determination.
The creature hissed again, frustrated.
But it couldn't touch him.
Without fear, he was untouchable.
Elyon stepped past it.
The Nightling skittered back into the shadows.
His voice carried through the trees.
Firm. Unshaken.
"Seren. If you can hear me… I will find you."
---
SEREN'S FEAR
Not far away, hidden beneath the roots of an ancient tree, Seren hugged her knees to her chest.
She had been running for hours—guided by panic, then exhaustion, then confusion. The forest felt alive, watching her with invisible eyes. Strange lights flickered between the branches. Whispers—soft, chilling—slid around her ears.
She was scared.
Not of monsters.
Not of the dark.
But of feeling something for Elyon she couldn't control.
She remembered the way he looked at her—not with desire, but with… understanding. And that terrified her more than anything in the forest.
"Why do you care?" she whispered to the empty woods. "Why do you see me?"
She buried her face in her hands.
She wasn't ready for this.
She wasn't ready for someone who didn't want her beauty.
Someone who wanted her heart.
Someone who might actually love her for real.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
She brushed it away angrily. "Stop it. He doesn't need you. He'll forget you."
But even she didn't believe that.
Because Elyon…
He wasn't like the others.
And that was the problem.
---
A DISTANT VOICE
Seren lifted her head, breath catching.
She heard something.
Footsteps.
Slow. Steady. Familiar.
Her chest tightened. "No… he didn't come all the way here…"
Elyon's voice drifted through the mist—soft, careful, calling her name with the gentleness of someone afraid to scare a wounded animal.
"Seren."
Her heartbeat pounded painfully.
He came.
He really came.
Her throat tightened. She didn't know whether to run toward him or run farther away.
But the forest made the decision for her.
A low snarl echoed through the clearing.
Seren stiffened, turning her head slowly.
Another Nightling—larger than the one Elyon faced. Its pale eyes locked onto her trembling form, sensing her fear like a beacon.
Seren stumbled back.
"N–No… please…"
The creature lunged—
A shadow moved faster.
Steel flashed.
A sharp cry.
A heavy thud.
Seren opened her eyes.
Elyon stood between her and the beast, dagger dripping pale ichor. His chest rose and fell in controlled breaths, but his voice when he turned to her was soft… unbearably gentle.
"I'm here," he murmured.
Seren's lips trembled. "Why… why did you come?"
His eyes softened.
"Because you ran alone."
---
HER WALLS BREAK
Seren shook her head, tears threatening again.
"You shouldn't have followed me. I push people away. I hurt people. I'm not someone you should care for."
Elyon stepped closer, slow enough to let her run if she wanted.
"You don't hurt people," he said quietly. "You protect yourself. That's different."
"You don't know me."
"I know enough."
His voice didn't rise.
He didn't grab her.
He didn't force her to look at him.
He simply knelt beside her and offered his hand.
Not to pull her.
Just to let her choose.
Seren stared at the hand.
Small tears slid down her cheeks.
"Why do you keep waiting for me?" she whispered. "I don't deserve it."
Elyon looked at her with eyes gentler than moonlight.
"It's not about what you deserve," he said softly. "It's about what I choose."
Her chest ached.
"Then choose someone easier," she whispered.
He shook his head.
"I want you."
Seren's walls—carefully built since childhood—cracked, splintered, trembled.
She didn't take his hand.
But she leaned forward…
And for the first time—
She let herself cry.
Elyon caught her quietly, arms wrapping around her in a protective, steady embrace.
No pressure.
No expectation.
No demand.
Just warmth.
Just presence.
Just him.
---