Aira struggled to keep pace as the wounded man leaned on her, each step sending tremors through the strange forest. The trees whispered louder now, their crystalline leaves rustling like voices warning her to turn back.
But he kept pulling her forward.
"We're almost there," he murmured, though his strength was clearly fading.
Aira tightened her grip around his waist. "You need help. You can barely walk."
He glanced down at her, silver eyes glowing faintly.
"I've survived worse."
His attempt at reassurance failed miserably—the dark stain spreading across his side told her the opposite.
"Stop pretending," she said. "You're hurt because of me, aren't you?"
His footsteps faltered.
"Aira…" he whispered, her name sounding fragile in his voice. "You were never meant to return. If they learn you're alive—"
A sudden crack ripped through the air.
Aira froze.
The trees around them bent inward, as if bowing.
Not bowing.
Reacting.
A figure emerged from the shadows—tall, sharply built, with hair like midnight and eyes a burning gold that felt too alive, too knowing.
Aira inhaled sharply.
Something about him hit her like déjà vu.
He looked at her as if she were a miracle he had been chasing for eternity.
She felt the wounded man's grip tighten on her shoulder. His voice dropped dangerously low.
"Aira… stay behind me."
But the newcomer—Kael—stepped forward, raising his hands slightly.
His gaze wasn't hostile.
It was stunned. Awestruck. Almost… reverent.
"So it's true," Kael breathed. "You're back."
Aira blinked. "Do I… know you?"
Kael gave a trembling smile—the kind that didn't belong on a man who looked carved from shadow and steel.
"You knew me before the fall."
His golden eyes softened.
"You saved me once."
Aira's heart pounded.
She felt nothing—and yet everything—at the sight of him. A familiarity she couldn't place twisted inside her chest.
The silver-eyed man beside her stiffened, his jaw clenching.
"Don't get closer to her, Kael," he warned.
Kael's gaze flicked to the wound. "You're poisoned. That explains the hostility."
"And you're still impossible to trust," the silver-eyed man shot back.
Aira looked back and forth between them.
They weren't strangers.
They were rivals—deadly ones.
Kael took another slow step toward her, lowering his voice.
"Aira… I've searched for you for seven years."
Her lips parted. "Seven years?"
His expression flickered—hopeful, aching, full of a longing she didn't understand.
"Yes," he whispered. "Ever since the day you died."
The forest exhaled around them.
Aira felt the earth tilt beneath her feet.
Two men.
Both claiming to know her.
Both reacting as if she were someone they had lost.
But only one question mattered now—
and she forced it out through trembling lips:
"Who… was I?"
Kael's golden eyes darkened, sorrow settling there like a permanent shadow.
"You," he said softly, "were the girl who shattered our world."