The moon hung like a silent sentinel above Lorian's Keep, its silver glow spilling through stained-glass windows and pooling across cold stone floors. The world outside lay hushed, still—yet within the private chambers of Elyndra Valcrest, a storm gathered behind her eyes.
She sat on the edge of her bed, hands trembling in her lap, breath shallow and uneven.
Why had she gone to Kael?
It wasn't just curiosity. It wasn't duty. And that realization unsettled her more than anything.
There was something in the way he looked at her—like he saw her. Not the champion's companion, not the paragon of light standing beside a hero, but the woman behind the mask. The one with hidden fears. Quiet questions. Repressed desires.
That frightened her more than monsters ever could.
A knock.
She flinched.
"Elyndra."
Valen.
His voice came through the wood like a blade—familiar, strong… and now slightly sharp at the edges.
She hesitated before rising. The hem of her nightgown brushed against the floor as she moved. When she opened the door, he stood there—tall, composed, but his clenched jaw betrayed him.
"May I come in?" he asked, voice clipped.
She stepped aside.
Valen entered, bringing with him a presence that once gave her comfort. Now, it felt… heavy.
"I saw him today," he said without preamble.
Elyndra didn't ask who.
"Kael."
The name echoed, colder than the night air.
Valen turned to her, his gaze intense. "He's dangerous. He twists truths, Elyndra. Turns weakness into trust."
He paused. "You know what he is."
She turned toward the window, eyes unfocused. "Do I?"
That earned a silence. One laced with warning.
"I need you to promise me something," Valen said, stepping closer.
Her back tensed.
"Stay away from him."
The words didn't land like concern. They landed like a command.
She should have agreed. The right thing—the expected thing—was to nod, to reassure, to step into the light beside her hero.
But instead…
She hesitated.
Valen saw it.
"Elyndra…" His voice darkened.
"I—" She looked at him, lips parting, but nothing came out.
She remembered Kael's voice, velvet and venom both:
"You think she belongs to you, don't you?"
Her breath caught.
"Don't let him get into your head," Valen snapped.
Too late.
She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm tired, Valen. We'll talk in the morning."
He stared at her, as if trying to read the truth in her silence. "Just promise—"
"Tomorrow," she said again, firmer this time.
That surprised him.
And somewhere in the quiet thrill that followed, she hated herself for feeling it.
Valen lingered a moment longer, then turned and left.
The door clicked shut.
Elyndra stood alone in the silence, her heart pounding, her thoughts fraying like thread.
Elsewhere in Lorian's Keep…
Kael stood in the tower chamber, looking down upon the moonlit courtyard. The autumn wind whispered against the windows, carrying the scent of fading leaves and coming change.
Behind him, a figure emerged from the shadows—a hooded agent cloaked in silence.
"Report."
The informant bowed. "As you foretold, my lord. The fracture deepens."
Kael didn't turn. "And the hero?"
"Shaken. But still standing."
Kael's smile curved. "For now."
The informant hesitated. "The lady… she hesitated, too."
That made Kael turn.
His eyes gleamed with crimson hunger. "Say that again."
"She did not give him what he asked."
A breath of silence.
Then Kael laughed—quietly, richly.
"Ah… Elyndra." His voice was silk-wrapped steel. "You've begun to question."
He turned back to the window, eyes gleaming as if he could already see the pieces falling.
"Soon, you'll stop questioning me… and start questioning him."
He raised his hand, fingers brushing the chilled glass as if caressing fate itself.
It was only a matter of time.
To be continued…