The night had fallen heavy and still, the only sound the constant rush of water from the river that flowed beneath the ground. They had traveled for hours, seeking shelter from the growing storm. The distant rumble of thunder had followed them, as though the heavens themselves sought to tear the world apart. The farther they journeyed into the wilderness, the more desperate the air seemed to become, charged with an unseen force.
Finally, they reached it—the River Temple. Hidden in the cleft of a jagged cliff, the ancient structure had been forgotten by time. Its crumbling stone façade rose from the ground like the remains of a half-dreamt memory. The temple was half-submerged in the water that rushed beneath it, the surface dark and silent.
"Here," Silas said, his voice low, his expression unreadable as he eyed the temple. "It's not much, but it's sheltered from the storm."
Kael didn't argue. He had been traveling for too long, his body aching from wounds that never fully healed, his soul weighed down by too many unknowns. He needed to stop. They all needed to stop. Aurenya's silence had only deepened since the ritual, and Kael knew she was retreating into herself again.
The temple itself was a place of contradiction—ruins filled with secrets, half-drowned in the water that surrounded it. The stone walls had long since succumbed to the ravages of time, worn smooth by the currents. Yet, there was something about it, something ancient that hummed beneath the surface, as though the stones themselves held memories of things long forgotten.
Inside, the air was cooler, thick with the smell of damp stone and old incense. The faint flicker of torches cast shadows on the walls, making the space feel alive with history. Silas set to work, gathering supplies to create a fire. He was efficient, but his movements were tense, his eyes flickering nervously from Aurenya to Kael.
Aurenya sat at the far side of the temple, perched on the edge of a stone bench, staring out over the dark river. She had yet to speak a word since the ritual, and Kael felt the weight of her silence in every inch of the air around him.
He wanted to go to her, wanted to ask what was wrong, but something held him back. Maybe it was the knowledge that whatever had transpired in the ritual had cracked something inside her, or maybe it was his own hesitation to face the truth of what they were becoming to each other.
The fire crackled in the center of the temple, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and sway with the movement of the flames. Silas spoke in a hushed tone as he worked, but Kael didn't hear him. His focus was entirely on Aurenya.
She wasn't looking at him, but Kael could feel the pull of her presence, like a magnet, drawing him closer. He moved toward her slowly, carefully, as if approaching something fragile. The closer he got, the more the air between them thickened. There was something charged in the way she breathed, something fragile and fierce all at once.
"Why are you doing this?" Kael's voice was low, raw with the emotion he hadn't yet let himself confront. "Why won't you talk to me?"
Aurenya didn't turn to face him. She didn't move at all for a long moment. And then, finally, she spoke.
"I don't die," she said, her voice soft but unwavering. "But you do."
Kael's breath hitched. There it was again. The thing he had been avoiding, the thing he feared would come to pass. His curse, the curse that burned him alive each time he spilled blood, was not just a physical affliction. It was a reminder of his mortality, of the fact that no matter how much he might want to save her, he was always bound by time—and time was the one thing he could never beat.
"You think that's why I'm here?" Kael stepped closer to her, his heart pounding in his chest. "You think I'm afraid to die?"
Aurenya's silver eyes finally met his, and in them, Kael saw something raw, something he hadn't expected. Fear. Regret. A vulnerability she had never allowed herself to show before.
"It's not about you," she said quietly, her voice almost breaking. "It's about me. I can't let myself care about someone who will eventually leave me behind. Who will burn out like everything else in my life."
Her words struck him like a physical blow. The weight of them settled over him, a heavy cloud that he couldn't escape from. This wasn't just about him, about his curse—it was about her. About how she had lived, how she had learned to survive, how she had never allowed herself to love because love always led to loss.
"You're wrong," Kael said, his voice fierce now, determined. He closed the distance between them, kneeling before her so that their faces were level. "You can't keep running from this. From me. You're not alone anymore, Aurenya. I won't leave you."
Aurenya's eyes softened, and for a moment, just a brief moment, Kael thought she might believe him. She reached out, her hand trembling, and rested it against his cheek. The warmth of her touch made his heart ache, but it also made his resolve harden.
"I don't want you to be bound by me," she whispered, her fingers tracing his jawline. "But you are. And I—" She stopped, looking away, the words catching in her throat.
Kael caught her chin gently, guiding her gaze back to his. "And I'll stay, no matter the cost."
The silence between them was thick, heavy with everything unspoken. There was something fragile and yet inevitable in the air between them. Something neither of them could deny.
Before either could speak again, the ground trembled beneath them, the temple shaking violently. Dust and stone rained down from above, and the fire in the center of the room flickered wildly. Kael leaped to his feet, pulling Aurenya with him, his eyes scanning the room for danger.
From the shadows, a low, guttural laugh echoed.
Lysaria.
The high priestess of the Glass Flame emerged from the shadows, her eyes glowing with a fire that burned hot enough to scorch the very air around her. In her hand, she held the ring Kael had once given her, its emerald stone now dark with the blood of countless lives. She stepped forward, her gaze fixed on Kael.
"You're still playing the hero, Kael," she said coldly, her voice a mixture of disdain and longing. "And you've managed to surround yourself with dangerous company."
Kael's hand went instinctively to the hilt of his blade, but Silas stepped between them, his eyes flashing with his own brand of fire.
"You're out of your depth, Lysaria," Silas warned, his voice laced with both authority and threat. "This isn't about you anymore."
Lysaria's lips curled into a smile. "You're all so certain of your fates. But even the strongest among you will break eventually."
As her words sank in, Kael felt the air shift. The fire in Lysaria's eyes was more than just rage—it was an omen. And it wasn't just Kael who was in danger. The temple, their haven, was about to become their grave.