The embers from the fire still glowed softly as Seraphina awoke.
She hadn't remembered falling asleep.
Her body ached in places she couldn't name, but it wasn't from physical strain—it was the fatigue of a soul newly forged. The third trial had done something to her. Not just to her power, but to her clarity.
As she blinked awake, she saw him.
Vael.
Still there.
Still silent.
He had stayed the entire night.
His posture hadn't changed much—hands resting loosely over bent knees, gaze fixed on the flames, like he was afraid they'd whisper secrets only he was meant to hear.
She sat up. Her movement stirred the quiet, and he looked over.
Their eyes locked. No veils. No hiding.
"Did you dream?" he asked gently.
Seraphina nodded slowly. "I think I did. But they weren't dreams. They felt… more like echoes. Different versions of me. Some filled with light. Others… with ruin."
Vael's brow furrowed. "Visions?"
She shook her head. "Maybe. But not warnings. They were just… reflections. Reminders that I can become anything depending on the choices I make."
He was quiet a moment. Then: "Which one do you believe you'll become?"
Seraphina leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "None. And all. Every choice creates a new path. But right now? I'm choosing the one that feels most like me."
He nodded like he understood. Maybe he did. Maybe he was one of those choices himself—one born of love, pain, and everything in between.
"You said something last night," she said, her voice soft. "That we fight the battles inside."
Vael's jaw clenched. "I meant it."
"Then why did you leave me before the first trial?"
His lips parted, but she held up a hand.
"No excuses. Just truth."
He sighed, the kind of sigh that carried the weight of years. "Because I felt it."
Seraphina stilled. "Felt what?"
"The moment the bond snapped into place. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't romantic. It was like being branded. And I knew... I was part of your story. Maybe the part that would hurt you most. So I ran. Because I thought if I stayed, I would break you before you had the chance to rise."
She closed her eyes, the pain fresh but not unexpected.
"You didn't break me," she whispered. "You hurt me. But I'm still here. Stronger."
Vael's breath caught. "But I might still be the one to—"
"Break me?" she finished for him. "Maybe. But maybe you're also the one who helps me put the pieces back together. That's the risk."
A beat passed.
Then he said something she didn't expect.
"You glowed."
She blinked. "What?"
"During the third trial," he murmured. "I felt it. Like the bond stirred again, but different. This time… it wasn't pain. It was light. Warmth. Like you'd finally stepped into your truth, and it called to mine."
The mountain around them felt smaller suddenly. The space between them thinned.
Seraphina looked down at her hand.
The mark on her palm shimmered faintly—moonlight and starlight twisted into one.
"You felt that all the way from the outer chamber?"
"I wasn't in the outer chamber," he said.
She turned sharply. "What?"
"I came closer. I shouldn't have. But I did. The moment you dropped into the trial, something inside me snapped. Like the bond was crying. I followed it."
She stared. "You could've been killed."
"I didn't care."
Silence stretched again—but this time, it was different. It wasn't cold or accusing. It was filled with weight and meaning.
He looked at her, eyes shimmering with everything he hadn't said for months. "You're not a destiny to me, Seraphina. You're not power or bloodlines. You're just… you."
"And what if I become something unrecognizable?" she asked.
He stepped closer. "Then I'll learn how to recognize you again."
She swallowed.
Someone once told her: "The path ahead will break you further. But you are not without strength."
She wasn't sure if she believed in happy endings. But in this moment, with the fire burning low and Vael standing so close, she believed in trying.
And that was enough.
Later that morning, she was summoned.
She found Kael waiting in a crystal-lit chamber, its ceiling open to the sky. Sunlight filtered in through jagged stone—golden and warm. It was the first time she'd seen the sun since entering the mountain.
Kael turned as she approached. "You've changed."
She nodded. "I feel it."
"There is one final gate before you leave this place. It's not a trial… but a reckoning. It will test whether what you've gained is truly yours."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll see. When you get there."
She stepped forward. "Before I go… did you know about Vael? About the bond?"
He hesitated.
"Yes," he admitted. "I suspected long before either of you did. I hoped I was wrong. But… fate rarely listens."
Her jaw tightened. "And you didn't tell me?"
"It was not mine to speak. Bonds like yours… they shape themselves. Speaking of it too early might've poisoned what needed time."
She looked away. "Then this final gate—what is it, really?"
"A mirror, in some ways," Kael said. "Not of your face. Of your will."
She didn't ask anything more.
That evening, as she stood before the final gate carved into the mountain's bones, Seraphina breathed deeply.
This wasn't about war.
This wasn't about prophecy.
This was about her.
The stone shimmered with a soft hum, as if sensing her readiness.
She reached forward, and it opened—slowly, steadily—into a blinding white.
Beyond it, her next path waited.
And this time… she wouldn't walk it alone.