The path narrowed as they climbed higher, carved into the very bones of the mountain.
The wind howled around them, a mournful song that spoke of things lost and never found again.
She leaned into him for warmth and strength, feeling the steady beat of his heart even through the thick layers of cloth and armor.
Neither of them spoke.
There was nothing left to say that could protect them from what waited above.
Only the truth remained now raw and waiting to be bled from old wounds.
The crystal at her throat pulsed faintly, its light stronger after the battle but fragile still, as if unsure it deserved to survive.
He squeezed her hand once before letting go, stepping slightly ahead to shield her from the rising wind.
She watched him, the set of his shoulders, the way he moved with silent purpose.
He had been her protector.
Her anchor.
Her shadow.
But she had never asked who he was before he became hers.
She had been too afraid of the answer.
Now, she was ready.
"Tell me," she said softly.
He slowed, the words sinking into the spaces between them.
He didn't turn around.
Not yet.
Instead, he spoke to the wind, to the broken stones, to the pieces of himself he had never shared.
"I was made," he said.
"Not born."
She froze.
He glanced back at her then, and in his eyes, she saw no anger.
No shame.
Only a tired, aching kind of acceptance.
"I was created from the remnants of your first light," he said.
"Forged by magic older than memory. A guardian. A blade."
She shook her head, heart breaking anew.
"You're not just a weapon."
His smile was sad.
"No. Not anymore."
He turned fully toward her, the mist curling around his feet.
"I was meant to guard you. Nothing more. No dreams. No name. No choice."
She stepped closer, reaching out, her fingers trembling.
"But you chose," she whispered.
"Yes," he said.
"I chose you. Even when you forgot me. Even when you left me behind."
Her vision blurred with tears.
She touched his face gently, tracing the scars time and battle had etched into his skin.
"You have always been real to me," she said fiercely.
"You are not a shadow. You are not a mistake. You are "
He caught her hand in his, pressing it against his chest where his heart beat steady and strong.
"I am yours," he said simply.
"And I am mine," she answered, the vow falling from her lips like a prayer.
The mountain trembled beneath their feet.
Far above, something ancient stirred, sensing the truth they had forged between them.
The path ahead remained shrouded in mist.
But now, they would walk it together.
As more than shadow and light.
As two souls who had chosen, again and again, to find each other across the ruin of the world.
The mist ahead thickened into a wall of silver and grey, hiding the world beyond.
She tightened her grip on the broken sword at her side, the crystal at her throat pulsing in a rhythm that matched her racing heart.
He moved closer, his presence steady and grounding.
Together, they stepped into the mist.
The world shifted at once.
The stones underfoot blurred into shadow.
The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of rain and iron.
And then
A voice, soft and terrible, filled the air.
"Prove your bond, or be undone."
The mist twisted and split, forming two paths.
One leading upward, narrow and treacherous.
The other descending into darkness so complete it swallowed even thought.
She looked to him, but he was already watching her, his face grim.
"It's a test," he said.
She nodded.
"I know."
She felt it in her bones, in the trembling of the crystal at her throat.
This was not a battle they could fight with swords or magic.
It was a battle of trust.
The voice spoke again, softer now, almost kind.
"Choose."
She turned to him.
"I won't leave you," she said fiercely.
His hand tightened around hers.
"And I won't leave you."
The voice laughed, a sound like the breaking of fragile glass.
"Words are easy. Prove them."
The paths shimmered.
If they chose wrong, they would be separated.
Lost.
Perhaps forever.
She closed her eyes, drawing a steadying breath.
Then she opened them, staring directly into his eyes.
Dark. Endless. Unwavering.
"We walk together," she said.
He nodded once, silent and sure.
Without hesitation, they stepped forward
Not onto either path, but between them, into the heart of the mist itself.
The world screamed around them.
The mist clawed at their skin, their memories, their doubts.
She felt herself being pulled apart, threads of fear and pain unraveling her will.
But his hand remained in hers.
Tight.
Unbreakable.
She clung to him, clung to the promise they had made not with words but with every broken, stubborn beat of their hearts.
The mist howled
And shattered.
They stumbled forward into open air.
The mist parted behind them like a curtain torn away, revealing the final stretch of the mountain path.
The sky above was a bruised purple, heavy with coming storms.
But they had passed the first test.
Together.
She sagged against him, and he caught her with a small, broken laugh.
"We're not done yet," he murmured against her hair.
She smiled through the ache in her chest.
"No," she agreed.
"But we're together."
And for now, that was enough.