Kael woke to the smell of incense and something faintly floral, the scent drifting through the air like a soft whisper. His mind was clouded, his body heavy, as if he had been submerged in darkness. Slowly, the world around him began to clear—stone walls, the flickering of candles in the distance, and the faint rustle of fabric. His pulse still hammered in his ears, the remnants of the curse's toll, but the pain was dulled, as though someone had used magic to soothe it.
It took a moment for him to register the presence of the woman seated beside him.
Her silver eyes met his as he stirred, unblinking, unafraid. They were the first thing he noticed—the way they shimmered in the low light, like molten metal, glowing faintly with a strange energy. Her face was delicate, with an ethereal quality that seemed at odds with the roughness of the world outside. Her long hair was the color of midnight, cascading around her like a dark waterfall.
She was unlike any woman he had ever encountered. There was a stillness to her, a calmness that belied the world around them.
Kael tried to push himself up, but his body refused to cooperate. Weakness had taken root in him, a side effect of his curse. His hands—those damned hands—throbbed with a dull heat.
"You're awake," the woman said, her voice soft yet clear, as if she had been waiting for him to rouse. "It's good. You shouldn't be here long, though."
Kael's brow furrowed. "Where am I?" His voice came out hoarse, the words foreign on his tongue. He had been in the Wastes, hunting a beast. Then—nothing.
She didn't answer immediately, her gaze lingering on him in a way that unsettled him, like she could see straight through him. Finally, she spoke, her voice tinged with amusement. "You're safe. For now."
He tried to sit up again, and this time, he succeeded, though his body protested every movement. The room around him was sparse—stone walls, a simple wooden altar, and a few offerings set near the candles. There was no sign of any other people. No one except her.
"I should leave," he muttered, already reaching for his sword, which he found lying beside him. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored the pain. "I don't need your help."
The woman tilted her head slightly, her silver eyes gleaming. "You're welcome to go. But I'd advise against it. You're not well."
Kael glared at her, irritated by the calmness in her voice. "Who are you?" he demanded, his words sharp as the blade heathed at his side. "And where's the village?"
"I'm Aurenya," she answered, as if her name was enough. She stood slowly, gracefully, her movements fluid like water. "As for the village... it's not my concern."
She took a step toward him, the faintest smile playing at her lips. "I'm here to offer you something you haven't had in a long time: a place where you are not a weapon, not a monster."
Kael's heart stuttered in his chest. There was something about her, something that felt... too familiar, too intimate.
He recoiled slightly, though his gaze never left her. "What do you want from me?"
Her smile faded, replaced by an unreadable expression. She did not answer right away, instead looking down at her hands, which were delicate and pale, her fingers long and graceful. She seemed to consider something before speaking again.
"I don't die," she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of a thousand untold stories. Her silver eyes locked with his. "Not in the way you understand. Not like the others."
Kael's brows furrowed. He tried to make sense of her words. She wasn't making sense. No one lived without consequence in this world. No one.
"That's impossible," he muttered, though his mind was already churning with questions. The curse that bound him, the endless death that followed his every step, was proof enough that immortality didn't exist.
Aurenya didn't respond immediately. She stepped closer to him, so close that he could feel the heat of her body, the strange pull between them that he couldn't explain. His hands twitched, the familiar burn of the curse stirring deep inside him. He had to fight the urge to lash out.
Then, she did something he couldn't have predicted. She reached out and touched his hand—her skin, warm and soft, pressed against his, her fingers curling gently around his roughened palm.
Kael froze.
Nothing happened.
He blinked, unable to comprehend what had just occurred. His hands... they should have ignited, they should have burned her skin away, yet she remained unscathed, unaffected. The power that normally surged through his body at the touch of another soul—the curse that turned everything it touched to ash—didn't manifest.
Aurenya smiled faintly, her eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. "You see now?"
Kael pulled his hand back, his pulse quickening, his mind racing to understand what he had just experienced.
"How is this possible?" he breathed. "What are you?"
Aurenya's smile deepened, her gaze never leaving his. She tilted her head slightly, as if considering how best to answer. "I'm not like you. And I'm not like them. But I think you'll come to understand soon enough."
Kael stood slowly, his body still protesting, and turned toward the door. The weight of his sword was a familiar comfort, but it didn't settle the unease in his chest.
"I'll leave now," he said, voice cold, but there was an unspoken vulnerability in his words—something he hated to admit, even to himself.
Aurenya didn't try to stop him. But as Kael turned to leave, he heard her voice once more, soft, almost a whisper.
"You will return, Kael Valen."
The door creaked as he stepped out into the cold light of the day. But Aurenya's words lingered in the air, like a whisper from the dark.
Kael walked away from the shrine, the unease gnawing at his gut. Her words, her touch, haunted him as he moved toward the unknown. Aurenya had given him nothing but a riddle—and yet, something about her... something in the way she'd said his name—had shaken him to his core.