The glow of the lake had softened into a quiet shimmer as evening slowly returned. The laughter from earlier faded into a gentle silence, not heavy—but thoughtful.
Yara sat close to the water, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns in the glowing surface. Aelion sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched, but neither of them spoke for a while.
Something had shifted again.
Not in a way that hurt—but in a way that asked for honesty.
"Aelion…" Yara said softly, her voice almost hesitant.
He turned to her immediately. "Hmm?"
She didn't look at him right away. Instead, she watched the ripples in the water. "Earlier… when you said you used to come here alone… it felt like there was more you didn't say."
Aelion grew still.
The air around them seemed to quiet, as if the forest itself was listening.
"There is," he admitted after a pause.
Yara finally looked at him, her expression gentle, not demanding—just open. "You don't have to tell me if it's too hard."
Aelion shook his head slightly. "No… I want to. I just… don't know how."
She shifted closer, their hands brushing. "You can take your time."
For a moment, he just stared at the lake, his reflection flickering in the glowing water. Then he exhaled slowly, like he was letting go of something he had held in for far too long.
"I wasn't always alone," he began quietly.
Yara listened carefully, her presence calm and steady.
"I had someone," he continued. "Someone who made me feel… the way you do now. Safe. Seen."
Yara's heart tightened slightly, but she stayed silent, letting him speak.
"But I lost them." His voice dropped. "Not because they left… but because I couldn't protect them."
The words hung heavy in the air.
"What happened?" she asked softly.
Aelion's jaw tightened, his gaze distant. "My magic… it attracts things. Dark things. I didn't understand it back then. I thought I could control it."
He paused, his hands curling slightly into fists.
"I was wrong."
Yara's fingers gently covered his, stopping the tension.
"They came for me," he said, his voice barely steady now. "But they hurt them instead."
Silence followed. Deep. Heavy.
Yara's chest ached—not just from hearing his pain, but from feeling how long he had carried it alone.
"That's not your fault," she whispered.
Aelion shook his head immediately. "It is. If I had been stronger… if I had understood my magic—"
"No," she said softly, but firmly this time.
He looked at her, surprised.
"You were hurting too," she continued. "You didn't choose that. You didn't deserve that."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was filled with quiet strength.
Aelion's expression faltered, like her words were breaking through something he had believed for too long.
"I've spent so much time thinking I destroy the things I love," he admitted.
Yara's eyes softened. She lifted her hand and gently cupped his cheek.
"Then let me be the proof that you don't," she said.
The simplicity of her words hit deeper than anything else.
Aelion leaned into her touch, his eyes closing for just a second. "What if I lose you too?"
"You won't," she whispered.
"You can't promise that."
"No," she said gently. "But I can promise this—whatever happens, you won't face it alone."
Something inside him shifted then. Not completely healed—but lighter.
Without thinking, he pulled her into an embrace, tighter than before—not out of fear, but out of need.
Yara wrapped her arms around him just as firmly, resting her head against his shoulder.
"It's okay," she murmured softly. "You don't have to carry everything by yourself anymore."
For a long moment, he didn't respond.
Then, quietly—almost like a confession—
"Thank you… for staying."
Yara smiled faintly against him. "I'm not going anywhere."
They stayed like that as the night deepened, the glowing lake reflecting their silhouettes—two souls no longer hiding, no longer alone.
And for the first time in a long time, Aelion allowed himself to believe something new—
That maybe love wasn't something to fear…
But something that could heal.