The air smelled like rain, though no clouds yet gathered.
Elowen stood at the edge of the Glimmering Path, the place where magic had once pulsed through the roots and stones with a song only the brave could hear. But now, silence hung heavy, thick as sorrow.
The forest had grown restless. Birds no longer sang in the morning. The flowers that bloomed in secret hues had faded into dull gray. The wind no longer whispered secrets—it warned.
Orielle arrived without a sound. She always moved like that, like part of the forest itself.
"You feel it too," Elowen said without turning.
Orielle nodded. "Something is unraveling."
"Is it because of us?"
Orielle didn't answer immediately. Her eyes wandered to the trees, to the spot where the willow wept endlessly now, her silver leaves falling like quiet tears. "No. But we've touched something sacred. And when love steps into sacred places, something must shift."
Elowen stepped forward, her boots crunching against broken twigs and old magic. "I don't regret touching you."
Orielle's jaw tensed. "But the forest might."
There was a strange energy in the air—a charge that felt like fear and longing stitched together. Elowen walked ahead, stopping at the old stone ring once used for enchantments and blessings. Now, it lay cracked down the center, moss growing from the wound.
"They say this ring was formed by lovers who bent the moonlight to keep their hearts together," Elowen said.
Orielle joined her slowly. "And now?"
"Now it's breaking. Like everything else."
A silence bloomed between them, heavy and blooming with all the things they didn't know how to say.
"I dreamt last night," Elowen whispered, eyes on the broken ring. "Of you. Of fire. And of a voice I didn't recognize, telling me I had to choose."
Orielle looked at her, softly alarmed. "Choose what?"
Elowen's voice cracked. "Between love and magic."
For a long time, Orielle said nothing. Then, in the quiet, she placed her hand on Elowen's. "They were never meant to be separate."
"But the forest doesn't agree."
"No," Orielle said. "The forest fears what it cannot control. Just like people."
The wind rose, rustling the dying leaves around them.
Suddenly, the ground trembled.
It was small, barely more than a shiver—but both of them felt it. The ring split further, a hairline crack reaching the center like a spiderweb.
"It's happening faster now," Orielle said. "The bond between magic and this place is weakening."
"Because of us?"
"Because love changes the balance," Orielle said. "But that doesn't mean it ruins it."
Elowen looked up at her, eyes fierce. "Then we fight."
Orielle's gaze softened. "Even if the cost is high?"
Elowen stepped into the ring, placing her hand on the broken stone. "I'd rather fight with love than obey with fear."
The stone beneath her palm pulsed faintly—warm, then cold. A warning, perhaps. Or a blessing. She didn't know.
Orielle joined her inside the circle. They stood together, facing the forest that was no longer their shelter, but something more complicated—witness, judge, maybe even foe.
Elowen took Orielle's hand.
They didn't know what would come next.
But in that moment, their love was louder than the silence.