The bridge swayed as they crossed, wind pushing hard from both sides. Elaria kept her eyes forward, but her chest was tight. The voice was gone, yet its echo lingered.
Kael reached her side as they stepped onto solid ground.
"You heard something," he said.
Elaria nodded. "A voice. It sounded like my mother."
"It wasn't her," Kael said calmly. "The path uses memories. Fears. Anything buried deep."
Elaria faced him. "And if what it said was true? That trusting you will destroy me?"
He didn't flinch. "Then it's already begun."
She searched his face, looking for a crack, a lie, anything hidden—but all she saw was honesty wrapped in darkness.
They walked in silence, tension between them.
By dusk, they found shelter beneath a jagged stone ledge. Elaria built a fire, Kael kept watch. Neither spoke for a long time.
Finally, she asked, "Did the path speak to you too?"
Kael looked at the flames. "Yes."
"What did it say?"
His jaw clenched. "That I'll fail you again."
Again.
The word sank into her chest.
"You think you did before?" she asked.
Kael's voice was low. "On the night the curse was cast. I couldn't protect you. I tried to fight them. I was only a child, but I still remember your scream as they took you."
Elaria stared at him. "You remember that?"
He nodded once.
And she realized—for all his control, all his shadowed power—he carried guilt just like she carried fear.
That night, they didn't touch. But their pain sat side by side, warming in the same fire.
And for the first time, the silence between them didn't feel like distance.
It felt like healing.