Meisha ladled the stew into a bowl; its rich scent of marrow and herbs filled the room. She carried it to Kaydence, who had managed to sit upright in bed, and placed it gently in his hands. With her own bowl, she settled at the table beside him, close enough that their presence felt shared.
Kaydence lifted the spoon, savoring the first taste. His eyes widened slightly, and a smile tugged at his lips. "You have remarkable cooking skills," he said, his voice carrying genuine warmth. "It's been a long while since I've had a meal this good."
Meisha glanced at him, her lips curving into a modest smile. "Thank you. Though I imagine you've had much better, given your status as a general."
Kaydence shook his head, his gaze steady as he took another spoonful. "No, I mean it. This is really delicious. Better than anything I've had in some time."
Meisha lowered her eyes briefly, her smile deepening as she stirred her stew. The heaviness of their earlier conversations seemed to dissolve into the simple act of eating together.
She murmured a brief prayer in the Emberwyn tongue over her food before lifting her spoon. She began to eat, unaware that Kaydence was secretly observing her, his eyes narrowing with quiet curiosity.
A moment of silence passed as the two filled their bellies, the crackle of the fire the only sound between them. Then Kaydence broke the stillness with a question, his voice low but intent.
"That language you just spoke earlier… is that the native tongue of the Emberwyn people?"
Meisha paused, her spoon hovering above the bowl. She shook her head gently. "I wouldn't know. It may be. My mother used to recite this every night before we would eat dinner."
Kaydence leaned forward slightly, his gaze thoughtful. "My father knows a man who speaks that language."
Meisha's eyes lifted, curiosity sparking. "Is the man your father knows of the Emberwyn people?"
Kaydence's expression shifted, his voice carrying the weight of memory. "I don't know. I was sixteen the first time I heard it—from him. My father never introduced me to the man. His visits were always brief, quiet. He would come, speak with my father, and leave before I could ask questions."
Meisha studied him, her brow furrowing slightly. "So you only heard fragments. No context, no explanation."
Kaydence nodded, his jaw tightening. "Exactly. And hearing you speak it now… it brought me back to that moment. The sound of it. The mystery of it. I never thought I'd hear it again."
Meisha's gaze softened, her voice quiet but steady. "Then perhaps it was meant to return to you. Through me."
Kaydence held her eyes, the silence stretching between them, heavy with unspoken truths. Then his lips curved into a faint, almost reluctant smile.
"And maybe I am the same to you," he said quietly, "as you are to me."
Meisha blinked, her breath catching at the weight of his words. The light from the fire flickered across his face, revealing the sincerity in his expression.
Kaydence leaned back slightly, his tone steady but tender. "I mean that perhaps we're both carrying pieces meant to awaken something in the other. You remind me of what I've lost—and what I still have to fight for. And maybe, in some way, I am here to help you discover the unknown truth within you."
Meisha lowered her gaze, her fingers brushing the rim of her bowl. A quiet smile touched her lips. "Then we are mirrors. Different, but reflecting the same truth."
Kaydence nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Exactly. And that truth… it binds us more than either of us expected."
Meisha inquired softly, her voice tinged with curiosity. "And what is this unknown truth you say that binds us, that you're here to help me discover?"
Kaydence set his empty bowl on the table beside the bed. He sat up straighter, leaning forward, and gently took hold of her wrist—the one bound by the cold band of iron. His fingers lingered against the bracelet as he looked into her eyes with sincerity.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked.
Meisha's lips curved into a sarcastic smile, though her tone carried the weight of old resentment. "Another reminder, along with my father, of how I'm never going to leave this place."
Kaydence let out a chuckle, shaking his head as his gaze dropped to the bracelet. "That's one way of putting it." He raised his head again, his eyes locking with hers. "But seriously. Do you know that this is a magic suppressing bracelet?"
Meisha's expression shifted instantly—confusion flashing across her face. "A magic suppressing bracelet? But—"
The shock coursed through her, and she stood abruptly, forcing Kaydence to release her wrist. The bracelet glinted in the light, suddenly heavier, suddenly more than just a shackle.
"I don't possess any magic," Meisha said, her voice trembling.
Kaydence replied gently, "Not that you are aware of."
Meisha began to pace side to side, trying to rationalize the truth she had just heard. The weight of it pressed slowly on her emotions until tears began to stream down her face.
"You're telling me that I may possess the power to escape here, and this thing—" she held up the wrist wearing the bracelet, her voice breaking, "is keeping me from running away with my father!"
Kaydence's expression softened into sadness as he slowly stood in front of her. His voice carried both gravity and compassion. "You're the daughter of Alyra Emberwyn. Why wouldn't you hold great power?"
Meisha froze, her tears catching in the reflecting light. The name of her mother spoken aloud seemed to reverberate through the room, stirring something deep within her.
Meisha's breath quickened, her voice trembling. "All this time… I thought it was only a magical leash to prevent me from running away. A prison. You're telling me it's been binding something I didn't know existed or even understand?"
Kaydence's eyes softened, though his tone carried gravity. "Yes. And that is the unknown I meant. There is more within you, Meisha—something your mother didn't get the chance to pass down to you."
Meisha's knees buckled beneath the weight of revelation, and she started to collapse to the floor. Before she could fall, Kaydence caught her firmly guided her back to the bed. He eased her down along with him, letting her lean against him, her head resting on his shoulder.
She wiped the tears from her eyes; her gaze fixed on the snowy outside. Her voice was soft, almost distant. "The fire is getting low. I'll add some more logs to the burner."
She began to rise, in hopes that a distraction would help, but Kaydence protested, his tone gentle yet firm. "I'll add more wood to the fire. You don't need to stand for a moment after almost collapsing."
He stood, guiding her back to lie down against the bed.
"But you're still injured, and the firewood for the evening is likely to be outside in the corridor of the entrance," Meisha argued, trying to sit up again.
Kaydence placed a steady hand on her shoulder, pressing her gently back down. His voice carried quiet authority. "No. You're going back into the Nykon forest tomorrow. You need to have your strength up and a clear mind."
Meisha's resistance faltered beneath the weight of his insistence. She let herself sink back into the bed, her body softening against the pillow as Kaydence guided her to rest. Her breath steadied, though her eyes still shimmered with the remnants of tears.
He continued, carefully placing her legs back onto the bed. "And no need to worry so much over my injury. I'm of the demon race. It is known for us to heal faster than humans."
"Yes, I do know that but-."
Kaydence sat at her side, his voice low and reassuring. "Then you don't need to concern yourself too much. I'm healing faster than I normally do and I feel it is because of you."
Meisha turned her head slightly, her brow furrowing. "Faster?"
His expression softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Yes. Your care, your food, your presence—it's stirring something in me. My body has been responding differently from your form of healing. I'm feeling stronger and quicker with each passing hour."
Meisha's brows furrowed as she responded quietly, "But you don't even know me?"
Kaydence shook his head in protest, his voice steady. "For me, it doesn't matter. What matters is I would have bled to death if you didn't find me collapsed in the forest."
Meisha placed her hand lightly on his, not before brushing away the last of her tears. She stared into the fire, its glow reflecting the quiet storm of emotions within her. "Then maybe… we're both awakening something in each other."
Kaydence tilted his head slightly; his voice a whisper meant only for her. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."
A light laugh escaped Meisha, lifting some of the heaviness that weighed on her, filling the silence with warmth. For the first time, she allowed herself to rest fully, her weight against him not out of weakness, but trust.
Meisha's eyes followed Kaydence as he slowly ascended the stairs, each step deliberate, his figure gradually disappearing into the shadows above until he was no longer visible. The faint creak of the wood echoed in the silence, leaving her alone with the fire's dim glow.
At the top of the entrance, Kaydence paused closed his eyes to focus. He extended his senses outward in an echoing pulse, his detection skill brushing against the stillness of the corridor. No movement. No presence. Only silence.
Satisfied, he opened the door with care. The cold air of the corridor swept in, carrying with it the faint scent of pine, stone, and ash. Just against the wall, neatly wrapped in a carrier, lay the firewood for the evening.
Kaydence moved swiftly, taking hold of the carrier and pulling it behind the door. His movements were quiet, efficient—every gesture marked by the discipline of a soldier and the caution of one who had lived too long in danger.
With the firewood secured, he began his descent, each step measured as he carried the weight back down. The flickering light from below reached up to meet him, guiding him back into the sanctuary of the room.
Meisha let out a sigh of relief once Kaydence made it back down the stairs.
"See," He held up the firewood like a child proud of himself. "I was able to get the wood without an issue."
"I see that you did. Thank you, Kaydence."
His heart fluttered at the sound of hearing her say his name in such a casual manner, and in his mind within the moment he had made the decision that he would free her from this place.
He knelt by the burner, carefully placed a few logs into the fire. The flames licked upward, crackling as warmth began to spread through the room once more. As he adjusted the wood, something slipped free—a folded note tumbling onto the floor.
Meisha's eyes caught sight of the note. She began to shift out of bed grab it, her body still weary, but driven by curiosity.
Kaydence turned at the sound of her movement, his tone firm yet caring. "You need to rest."
Meisha pointed toward the floor, her voice steady despite the lingering tremor of exhaustion. "But I was only going to pick up the note."
Kaydence sighed as he stooped down to retrieved it himself. He handed it to her, his lips curving into a faint smile. "You are a stubborn woman."
Meisha accepted the note, her fingers brushing against his as she replied with a touch of sarcasm. "Says the injured demon who demanded to go with me to the Nykon forest."
Kaydence rolled his eyes with a smirk as he handed Meisha the folded paper, his fingers brushed lightly against hers. She opened it carefully, the light illuminating the faint script. Her eyes moved across the words, and she read aloud in a hushed tone:
"The wood smith informed me that you didn't stop by today to pick up some firewood. I figured you must've been busy, so I decided to drop it off to you. I wouldn't want you to be cold through the night."
Meisha's lips parted slightly, recognition dawning. "This is from one of the soldiers I spoke with in the town market…" she murmured, her voice carrying both surprise and a quiet warmth.
Kaydence tilted his head, watching her reaction. "So even in small ways, you're remembered."
Meisha folded the note gently, her fingers lingering on the edges as though it carried more weight than simple words. "Yes. The soldiers and the people of this town do what they can to help me."
Kaydence's gaze softened, his tone steady but tender. "Sometimes kindness finds us where we least expect it. Even in places shadowed by duty or war."
He rose slowly and walked back to the table beside the bed. He pulled out the chair and sat down, his presence steady but quiet. The room fell into a hushed stillness, the fire crackling softly while the sun had set and nightfall had arrived as the two of them sat in silence, simply sharing the quietness of each other's company.
Meisha's back was turned to him when she finally broke the silence, her voice low but edged with frustration. "Is there anything else I should know about this god-awful cuff?"
Kaydence's gaze lingered on her, his tone measured. "Only if you feel you are up for the truth."
She turned to face him, her eyes glistening with determination. "I want to know everything."
He leaned his head back, releasing a deep sigh that seemed to carry the weight of years. His eyes closed briefly, as though gathering the memories he had long tried to keep buried. His voice was steady but shadowed with experience. "I myself have used these cuffs on criminals… and prisoners of war. They strip away what makes them dangerous, what gives them power. Some wore them for years, their magic suppressed until they forgot what it felt like to be whole. Others… never lived long enough to see them removed."
Meisha turned around laying on her opposite side to listen with her undivided attention.
Kaydence paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as if recalling faces long gone. "They are not meant for protection, Meisha. They are meant for control. To break the spirit as much as the body."
The seriousness showed across his features, revealing the heaviness of his words. Meisha's hand instinctively brushed against the bracelet, her breath catching at the thought of being bound by something used to shackle the condemned.
Kaydence leaned forward, his voice softening. "But you are not a criminal. You are not a prisoner of war. Varrick knows that you are something far greater. And that is why this cuff was placed on you."
The flames crackled, filling the room with warmth. Meisha's fingers brushed lightly against the cuff on her wrist again, but she didn't speak right away. Instead, she let the quiet linger, her thoughts circling but not pressing. Kaydence watched her from the corner of his eye, patient, unhurried.
"Does this thing…" she hesitated, her voice low but steady, "…cause any side effects?"
Kaydence's gaze darkened, his expression heavy with memory. He leaned forward, his tone grave. "Yes. One I know of for certain."
Meisha's breath caught as she waited.
"The wearer experiences excruciating pain every time they try to use their powers," he said, his voice firm but laced with quiet sorrow. "It's not just suppression—it's punishment. The cuff doesn't simply block your magic. It makes you suffer for even attempting to reach for it."
Meisha's hand froze against the bracelet, her chest tightening at the thought. She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "So every time I… even try…"
Kaydence nodded slowly. "The pain is meant to remind you that your power is forbidden. To break your will until you stop reaching for it altogether."
The turmoil expressed on her face, revealing the storm of emotions rising within her. She turned to her wrist again, staring at the cuff as though it were a living thing, binding her not only in body but in spirit.
Kaydence's voice softened, though it carried the same weight. "But you didn't know that you possessed any abilities to ever try to use. So, you should be in the clear of the bracelet needing to suppress your magic."
Meisha's eyes widened. The words struck her like a sudden spark in the quiet. She quickly sat up, her breath uneven, realization dawning in her expression.
"I think…" she whispered, her voice trembling with urgency, "…I think I have experienced the side effect you speak of from the bracelet."
Kaydence's gaze sharpened, his body leaned forward as if pulled by her revelation. "When?" he asked, his tone low but edged with concern.
Meisha's hand instinctively went to the cuff once again, her fingers brushing against it. "There were moments—small ones—when I felt something inside me stir. I didn't understand it then. But the pain… it was sharp, burning, like my veins were on fire. I thought it was just me."
Kaydence's eyes narrowed, his voice steady but probing. "How often does this happen?"
Meisha drew in a slow breath; her gaze fixed on the fire. "It comes and goes at random."
Depth of her explanation pulled Kaydence forward, listening with his undivided attention, every word sinking into him like stone.
Meisha hesitated, then added quietly, "I've noticed the pain is really bad when I leave Varrick's office."
Kaydence's brows furrowed, his voice low and questioning. "When you leave his office?"
"Yes," she replied, her tone trembling with the weight of the memory. "It feels as if I'm being engulfed in flames throughout my body. And as I claim distance… it begins to subside."
Kaydence leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. The deepness of thoughts across his face, deepening the shadows of concern etched there. "That's not random, Meisha. That's deliberate."
Meisha's hand went to the cuff once more, her fingers brushing against the cold metal as though it might answer her. "So, it's not just the bracelet… it's something about him. About that place."
Kaydence's eyes narrowed, his voice inquiring. "So, the feeling… it only happens when you leave Varrick's office?"
Meisha nodded quickly, confirming his reference. "Yes. That's the only time I've felt it."
Kaydence leaned forward, his tone probing but calm. "Have you ever experienced it being near him in other places? The courtyard, the hallways, anywhere outside his office?"
Meisha shook her head, her brow furrowing as she searched her memory. "I can't recall a time I have. It's always tied to leaving his office."
Kaydence exhaled slowly, his gaze steady on her. "Then it isn't just him. Something must be nearby—something in or around that office—that's activating your magic. The cuff reacts because it senses the stir within you."
Meisha's hand brushed against the bracelet again, her chest tightening at the thought. "So, it's not random at all… it's being triggered."
Kaydence's jaw tightened, his voice low but resolute. "Exactly. And if we can figure out what's causing it, we'll know what part of your power Varrick is trying to keep from awakening—or control."
Kaydence's gaze held hers, steady and unwavering. "Then the next time you're summoned to Varrick's office, I want you to pay closer attention. Treat it like awareness. Notice everything—the air, the objects, the way the room feels when you enter and when you leave."
Meisha's brow furrowed, her fingers brushing against the cuff. "You think something in there is activating my magic?"
Kaydence leaned forward, his tone firm but patient. "I don't just think it—I'm certain of it. The pain isn't random. It's a reaction. Something nearby his office is stirring your power, and the bracelet responds by punishing you for it."
Meisha swallowed hard, her mind racing back to the times she'd left Varrick's office, the searing fire coursing through her veins. "So, I need to watch for the trigger."
Kaydence nodded slowly. "Exactly. Don't just endure it—observe it. Every detail matters. If we can identify what's causing the reaction, we'll know what part of your power Varrick is trying to awaken… or control."
Meisha drew in a slow breath, repeating his words in her mind. Anchor myself… and observe. Her fingers brushed the cuff again, lingering on the cold metal. "It sounds simple," she whispered, "but when the pain comes, it feels like I'm drowning in fire."
Kaydence's gaze held hers, unwavering. "That's why you need something stronger than the fire. Your breath, your heartbeat, the ground beneath you — those are yours. The cuff can't take them away. If you hold onto them, you'll see past the pain."
Meisha's brow furrowed, her voice trembling. "And if I do… I'll notice what triggers it."
Kaydence nodded slowly. "Exactly. Pain is a distraction. Awareness is the weapon. If you can stay present, you'll find the truth hidden in the flames."
The wood crackled in the background, light from the fire casted long shadows across the room. Meisha's chest tightened, but beneath the fear was a spark of resolve. For the first time, the pain wasn't just torment—it was a clue.
Kaydence's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, then softened. "We should end the conversation here tonight," he said gently. "You'll need your strength. Tomorrow, you'll be going into the Nykon forest to see if there's been a response to the message."
Meisha nodded, the weight of his words settling into her chest. "You're right," she murmured. With a quiet resolve, she pushed herself up from the bed, her movements deliberate but calm.
Kaydence stayed seated at the table, his posture heavy with thought, replaying the threads of their conversation in silence. The firelight flickered across his face, deepening the shadows of contemplation.
He snapped out of his reverie when he noticed Meisha tugging at the fresh sheets, carefully spreading them across the bed. Without hesitation, he stood up to help.
Meisha turned quickly, her voice firm but concerned. "No, don't. You're not fully healed yet."
Kaydence interrupted her, his tone steady but carrying a quiet edge of insistence. "Meisha, I've told you before—I am of the demon race. I'm not as fragile as humans. And besides, I feel much better moving around."
She hesitated, her lips pressing together as if weighing whether to argue further. Finally, she surrendered with a soft sigh. "Ok… just don't strain yourself."
"I won't," Kaydence replied simply, his voice calm but resolute. He stepped forward and took over the task, his hands moving with practiced ease as he changed the sheets for both the bed and the cot.
Kaydence smoothed the last fold of the sheet across the bed, then glanced toward Meisha. "What other tasks need to be done?" he asked, his tone calm but purposeful.
Meisha blinked, stunned by the question. She had grown used to doing everything alone, the rhythm of solitude etched into her nightly routine. "I was going to clean and put away the dishes," she replied hesitantly.
Kaydence moved on to the cot, his hands steady as he prepared the fresh sheets. "Ok," he said evenly, "and what do you need to do after that?"
Meisha's gaze lingered on him, still caught off guard by his presence in her routine. "I… I bathe right before going to bed," she answered softly, almost as if confessing a secret.
Finishing the cot, Kaydence straightened and turned to face her. His right hand reached for her left, taking it gently in his grasp. He lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. Then his eyes locked with hers, deep and unwavering.
"Let me handle part of the routine for tonight," he said, his voice low but resolute, carrying both care and command.
Meisha finally surrendered to his offer, her voice quiet but resolute. "Alright… you can handle the dishes."
Kaydence gave a small nod and moved toward the barrel, collecting the used plates and cups with deliberate care. His movements were steady, purposeful, as though the simple act of cleaning carried its own weight.
Meanwhile, Meisha gathered what she needed for the night: clean, warm pajamas folded neatly, a fresh washcloth and dry towel, and the small vials of oils she used after bathing. She placed them within reach, each item part of the ritual that closed her day.
With Kaydence's back turned, she started the water, adjusting it until the steam rose in gentle waves, the temperature set perfectly. Her fingers lingered at the edge of her clothing before she began to unclothe, the sound of the water masking her quiet movements.
She stepped toward the shower, the warmth beckoning her into its sanctuary. But as she crossed the threshold, Kaydence turned around a bit earlier than she expected. His gaze caught a fleeting glimpse of her back—where faint, healed welts traced across her skin, scars of pain endured in silence.
He didn't s utter a word out loud at the sight of it but internalized it. "I'm going to repay the kindness you have shown me, Meisha. I'm going to use everything within my power to get you out of here."
The warmth of the shower washed over Meisha, rinsing away the heaviness of the day. She lingered in the steam until her body felt lighter, her mind steadier. When she finally stepped out, she wrapped herself in the dry towel, the faint scent of her oils waiting nearby to soothe her skin.
She padded softly back into the room, her hair damp and her steps quiet. Kaydence was still there with his back turned, tending to the space with deliberate care. Her eyes caught the sight of the stew pot resting near the window, placed exactly as she would have done it. The cool night air drifted in, preserving the meal until morning.
Meisha paused, her chest tightening with an unexpected warmth. She hadn't asked him to do it, hadn't expected him to notice such a small detail—but he had.
Kaydence turned slightly, catching her gaze. His expression was calm, almost unreadable, but the simple act spoke louder than words.
Meisha's lips curved into the faintest smile, gratitude flickering in her eyes. "You… put the stew by the window," she said softly, her voice carrying both surprise and quiet appreciation.
Kaydence gave a small nod, his tone steady. "I saw you do it before."
Meisha's lips curved into a shy smile, gratitude flickering in her eyes. "Thank you, Kaydence," she said softly, her voice carrying more than appreciation—it carried the weight of trust.
Kaydence inclined his head, the simple acknowledgment enough. The silence between them was warm, not heavy, filled with the quiet presence of two souls sharing space.
Meisha gathered her things and began to make her way toward the cot, her body moving with the familiar rhythm of solitude. But before she could settle, Kaydence's voice cut through the stillness, firm and resolute.
"Meisha," he said, stopping her in her tracks. "I'm healed enough to take the cot from now on. You'll sleep in your bed."
She turned to him, surprise flickering across her face. "Kaydence, you don't have to—"
He interrupted her, his tone unwavering. "It's out of the question for you to change my mind otherwise. You've carried enough burdens alone. This is mine to carry now."
Meisha's breath halted, her protest dissolving under the weight of his certainty. For a moment, she simply stared at him, the light casting shadows across his determined expression. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"Alright," she whispered, surrendering to his insistence. "But only if you promise not to strain yourself."
Kaydence's lips curved into the faintest smile. "I promise I won't strain myself."
Meisha settled into her bed, the fresh sheets cool against her skin, her body softened by the warmth of the shower. The warm illumination of the fire flickering across the room, casting long shadows that danced along the walls. For the first time in many nights, she felt the quiet comfort of presence—Kaydence's presence—woven into the stillness.
Her eyes grew heavy, the weight of the day dissolving as she listened to the faint sounds of him moving about the room. She let her breath fall into a steady rhythm, each exhale carrying her deeper into rest.
Kaydence remained seated nearby, his gaze steady on her as she drifted. He watched the tension leave her face, the lines of worry smoothing into peace. Only when he was certain she had surrendered fully to sleep did his own body begin to relax.
He lingered a moment longer, the light of the fire reflecting in his eyes, then finally decided to lay down upon the cot. The quiet of the room wrapped around them both, and as Meisha slept comforted by his presence, Kaydence allowed himself to close his eyes and drift to sleep.