The afternoon sun bled across the sky, stretching our shadows into skeletal fingers that clawed at the path before us. We were descending, leaving the mountain’s peak behind, and below, the ocean lay like a sheet of hammered steel, its usual turmoil beaten into a tense, silent stillness. The wind sighed through the pines, a desolate sound laced with the frantic rustle of unseen things in the undergrowth.

My focus, however, was tethered to Cassius. He walked encased in a silence so profound it seemed to be a crushing gravity that had clung to him since his meeting with Seraphiel.

“Cassius,” I said, my voice a fragile thing against the vast, indifferent landscape.

He flinched, as though yanked from a fathomless depth. “Yes?” The word was a rasp of stone on stone. He refused to lift his gaze from the dusty trail.

“What did she say to you?”

At his side, his hand clenched into a white-knuckled fist. I saw it then—the faint, sickly orange pulse of his curse, a captive firefly of malice flickering between his fingers. “She wants the story,” he said, his voice taut with a strain that went beyond mere fatigue. “The whole story. How it happened. The curse.”

I held my tongue, letting the quiet press in, giving him the space to breathe around the words.

“I can’t bear to dig it all up again,” he admitted, his voice cracking. He finally looked at his hand, uncurling his fingers slowly as if examining a venomous creature he’d been forced to carry. “Some things are meant to stay buried. But she said… she said it’s the only way.”

I closed the distance between us until our shoulders brushed, offering a silent anchor. “You won’t be alone,” I promised. “When the time comes to tell it, I’ll be right there.”

He finally lifted his head, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes was a physical blow, an ache that blossomed in my chest. “I’m glad,” he breathed, the words barely escaping. “I just… I’m afraid. That you’ll see me differently.”

“That’s impossible, Cassius,” I said, my tone absolute, leaving no room for doubt. “What they did to you isn’t who you are. Your choice to fight back—that is who you are.”

A sad, knowing smile touched his lips but never reached his eyes. “Funny, isn’t it?” he murmured, his gaze drifting back to the distant, steel-grey sea. “The deepest cuts always come from the hands you trusted most.” His voice frayed at the edges, dissolving into the whisper of the wind.

My own resolve hardened like cooling iron. “I will not betray you.”

“I know,” he mumbled.

He slowed, matching his pace to mine. When he met my eyes again, the haunting distance had receded, replaced by a quiet, resolute strength. “I see that look, Thalia,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Don’t carry my burdens for me. I’ll be fine. I meant what I said—I’m glad to have you.”

The certainty in his voice was unmistakable this time. A small, genuine smile finally crested in his eyes, and I felt the tension bleed from my own shoulders as I returned it. “I know,” I said softly.

We turned our eyes to the path ahead, the silence that fell between us no longer heavy, but comfortable and shared. The air grew cooler, scrubbed clean of the ocean’s salt and now rich with the scent of damp earth and pine. The low-hanging sun began to stain the clouds in hues of blood-orange and violet.

Ahead, our destination loomed. A new mountain rose from the forest floor, its slopes a tapestry of deep, vibrant greens dotted with the defiant colors of wildflowers. Near its base, ancient, moss-eaten boulders rested like sleeping giants. As we drew closer, long, golden spears of light pierced the canopy, and the character of the wind shifted. It thickened, carrying the electric, metallic scent of ozone—the heavy promise of a downpour.

Without warning, the world bleached white. A jagged fork of lightning struck a nearby pine, the sound not a crack, but an explosion. Bark and splinters erupted from the trunk. I staggered back, my heart slamming against my ribs. The thunder that followed wasn’t a sound; it was a concussion, a shockwave that surged up through the soles of my feet and resonated deep in my bones.

In the sudden, bruised twilight, our eyes met with a shared, unspoken urgency. “We need shelter!” I yelled over the rising howl of the wind.

Cassius nodded, his gaze already sweeping the terrain. My own frantic search landed on a dark slash in the rock face ahead—a cave. “There!” I shouted, my pointing finger trembling.

The sky, now a churning purple-black, had swallowed the last of the daylight. We broke into a desperate run, Cassius at my heels, our feet catching on gnarled roots that clawed at the path. We dove through the narrow opening, the cool, subterranean scent of damp stone and earth enveloping us.

Cassius was already turning back, his sword sliding from its sheath with a silken hiss. “I’ll get wood before it’s soaked,” he said, his voice a pillar of calm in the chaos. “The night will be cold.”

“Be safe,” I murmured, and gathered my mana, spinning it into an orb of soft, lavender-pink light that bobbed in the air like a captive will-o’-the-wisp. With a mental nudge, I sent it floating after him into the maelstrom.

“Thanks,” he called back, a brief smile flashing over his shoulder before the storm swallowed him whole.

Left alone, I created a smaller light for myself. The cave was little more than a hollow in the rock, but it was shelter. It will be a tight fit, I thought, but it’s enough. A brilliant flash of lightning turned the rough-hewn walls stark white, and the thunder that followed cracked directly overhead, so violent I felt the vibration in my teeth. A knot of pure dread tightened in my stomach.

The minutes stretched, each one measured by the percussive drumming of the rain. Finally, a figure materialized from the deluge. Cassius reappeared, dragging a large, splintered tree limb behind him. He was soaked to the bone, water plastering his dark hair to his forehead and streaming from his clothes in rivulets.

As he set to work with his sword, hacking the limb into manageable pieces, I summoned a stone and flint from my storage. My first attempt sent sparks fizzling into the damp air. On the second try, a tiny ember caught on a sliver of dry inner bark. I cupped my hands around it, nursing it gently, adding kindling until a cheerful fire blossomed to life between us.

The firelight danced on Cassius’s face, catching the tremor that wracked his body. “Can my magic… dry things?” I asked, the idea forming as I spoke.

He shot me a challenging look through chattering teeth. “Why don’t you try?”

I took a steadying breath. Closing my eyes, I focused not on the image of him shivering and soaked, but on how I wanted him to be: dry, warm, comfortable. I pushed my mana outward, a silent, weightless command. When I opened my eyes, a shimmering, lavender-hued mist enveloped him. Steam rose from his clothes in a soft hiss, and in moments, the mist dissipated, leaving him completely dry.

“Very good,” he said, his voice laced with genuine surprise. He sank down onto the stone floor beside me, turning his hands toward the fire’s warmth. His features, softened by the flickering light, were unreadable. “You know, Thalia,” he began, his voice low and intimate, “if I had to be trapped by a storm, I’m glad it’s with you.”

A blush spread across my cheeks, a warmth entirely separate from the fire. “Me too,” I whispered, finding it suddenly impossible to meet his gaze. I focused instead on the hypnotic dance of the flames.

He shifted closer, the space between us shrinking to nothing. “About the other night… what I wanted to say,” he started, his voice hesitant but clear. “I just… I’m happy when I’m with you.”

“I’m happy when I’m with you, too, Cassius,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper.

His hand covered mine where it rested on the cool stone floor. The contact was electric, a jolt that shot up my arm and settled, hot and fluttering, deep in my chest. He looked down at our joined hands, and my breath caught. Why is my heart racing? We’ve held hands before. Countless times. But this… this is different. This has weight.

As if sensing my thought, his fingers gently intertwined with mine. It was a silent promise, more significant than any words.

A faint tremor ran through his hand, a betrayal of his calm facade. “Did you know,” he said, his voice a low murmur that barely disturbed the air, “that elves only love once in their lives?”

The crackling fire seemed to fall silent. The storm, the world, everything faded, leaving only the frantic, desperate drumbeat of my own heart. I found the strength to meet his gaze, which burned with a terrifying, beautiful intensity. “No,” I breathed. “Have you… found yours?”

A slow shake of his head was his first answer. Then, he closed the last inch of distance between us. His warm breath ghosted across my skin as he whispered into my ear, his voice thick with an emotion that felt ancient and profound. “Not until now.”

Time stopped. Or perhaps it collapsed, folding every moment that had ever been and ever would be into this single, perfect point. The past, the future—they didn’t matter. I had to consciously remember to draw air into my lungs.

Our hands remained laced together, a warm anchor in the sudden, absolute stillness. He searched my eyes, a silent question in their depths, and I gave him my answer by leaning in.

He met me without hesitation. His free hand slid from my jaw, his fingers tangling gently in the hair at the nape of my neck. He guided me closer, and when our lips finally met, the storm rushed in—not from the outside, but from within. It cracked through me like lightning, wild and blinding, and I clung to him as if the kiss were the only thing keeping me grounded. He pulled me deeper into the kiss, and his breath was a sigh lost in the storm between us.

A sudden, violent crack of thunder echoed through the cave, a physical jolt that tore us apart. Breathless, I looked from the rain-swept darkness outside back to him. The same stunned, secret smile that I felt on my own lips was reflected on his. The world rushed back in, but it was different now. Everything was different.

It was like the lightning strike—a flash of impossible light in the darkness, changing the landscape of my world in a single, deafening heartbeat.