Eiden's eyes opened. Not suddenly, but slowly and hazily, as if rising from the deepest, heaviest sleep his body had ever surrendered to.
His vision blurred at the edges, the world undecided on whether to let him return. Warmth pressed around him—soft, steady, and enveloping. For a moment, he couldn't tell where he was, or how long he had been gone, or if he was truly awake. The room was dim, lit by the amber glow of a fireplace and the pale wash of moonlight slipping through a narrow window. Shadows stretched across the wooden walls, swaying with the slow dance of the flames. Outside, the night was silent. Inside, the air was warm.
Time had slipped away in his absence. Zeth's black castle stood quiet beneath the moonlit sky, its obsidian walls rising like a fortress carved from shadow. But here, in this chamber, everything felt softer. Calmer. Almost unreal.
Eiden stirred. He found himself tucked beneath a heavy blanket, cushioned by a soft mattress, and held by the steady, gentle pressure of someone's embrace. His cheek brushed against smooth skin; strands of golden hair slid across his face like silk. His head rested against a chest, his body wrapped in a protective hold that felt both unfamiliar and strangely right.
He lifted his eyes. Selyndra.
She lay beside him in a simple white nightgown that glowed faintly in the firelight. Her expression was peaceful, serene in a way he rarely saw. Her breathing was slow and steady, each rise and fall brushing lightly against his cheek. One hand was buried in the back of his hair, fingers curled as if she had been holding him like that for hours. She looked relieved—like someone who had refused to leave his side until she knew the danger had passed.
Eiden's breath caught. He didn't remember being carried here. He didn't remember anything after the battle—only fragments, flashes, and then a void. But Selyndra had stayed.
Her golden hair fell across his face again as she shifted, tightening her hold instinctively. The movement was protective, almost maternal, as if shielding him from the world even in her sleep. The fire crackled softly, its orange light reflecting off the polished wooden floor and the faint shimmer of the windowpane. Eiden exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from his body. His heartbeat steadied. For the first time in an age, his mind felt still.
Then, Selyndra's breathing shifted. Her fingers twitched in his hair. A soft sigh escaped her, and then her golden eyes opened—unfocused at first, then sharpening as they found him.
"…Eiden?" Her voice was quiet, rough with sleep.
He lifted his head slightly. "You're awake."
Selyndra blinked, as if confirming he was real. Her hand moved from his hair to his cheek, checking for warmth. "You're awake," she repeated, relief threading through her words.
"I… think so," Eiden swallowed.
Selyndra let out a breath she had clearly been holding for far too long. "Good. You scared everyone."
"Everyone?"
"Zeth. Morvak. Vaelus. Iris. Dravien. Me." Her voice softened on the last word.
Eiden looked away, unsure how to respond. Selyndra sat up slightly, keeping an arm around him as if afraid he might disappear if she let go. "You were unconscious for a long time," she said. "Your aura was unstable. We didn't know if you'd wake up."
"I didn't mean to worry anyone," Eiden stared at the blanket.
"You didn't choose to," she said gently. "But we still worried."
He looked back at her. Her golden eyes held no anger, only a quiet, steady promise. Eiden hesitated. "Did you… stay here the whole time?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
She blinked, surprised by the question. "Because you needed someone here."
Eiden opened his mouth to protest, but she shook her head lightly. "You don't have to say anything. Just… rest. You're safe."
Safe. The word felt distant, yet in this room, with the firelight and Selyndra's presence, it felt almost true. She leaned back against the pillows, watching him with calm eyes. "If you feel dizzy, tell me. If anything hurts, tell me. If you need water, I'll get it."
Eiden huffed softly. "You're acting like I'm fragile."
"You are," she said simply. "For now."
He didn't argue. The fire crackled, the moonlight shifted, and a rare moment of peace settled over them. Selyndra's voice softened to a whisper. "Eiden… I'm glad you're back."
He looked at her, and finally, something heavy and tired loosened inside him.
"…Me too," he said quietly.
Selyndra smiled—small and tired, but real. The fire glowed, the night deepened, and in the quiet warmth of the obsidian castle, Eiden finally let himself breathe.