chapter 10
1244 Words
The moment shattered.
Light surged from Elara’s hand—wild, blinding, unstoppable.
Straight toward him.
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Kaelith—!”
Too late.
The power collided with him—
And stopped.
Not weakened.
Not deflected.
Stopped.
Like it had hit something immovable.
The silver light flared violently between them, pressing forward, pushing, trying to force its way through—
But it couldn’t.
It bent.
Curved.
Warped around him like water hitting stone.
Elara froze.
“…What?”
Kaelith didn’t move.
Didn’t flinch.
Didn’t even blink.
His hand was raised now—close to hers, but not touching—and the energy twisted unnaturally between them, caught in a space that shouldn’t have existed.
“Breathe,” he said.
She wasn’t.
Her chest was tight, panic clawing up her throat as the power continued to surge.
“I can’t stop it—!”
“Yes, you can.”
“It’s not listening—”
“It is.”
His voice cut through everything.
Sharp.
Commanding.
Grounding.
“Elara.”
Her eyes locked onto his again.
And for a second—
Everything else faded.
“Look at me,” he said, quieter now.
Her pulse pounded, but she held his gaze.
The light between them flickered violently, unstable, dangerous—
“Do not fight it,” he continued. “Guide it.”
“I’m trying—”
“Not like that.”
His hand moved.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Until it hovered just beneath hers.
Not touching.
But close enough that she felt it.
That same steady presence.
“Feel where it wants to go,” he said.
Her breath hitched.
The energy pulsed again—
But this time—
She didn’t push back.
She listened.
And there it was.
Beneath the chaos.
A direction.
A pull.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she shifted her focus—
Not forcing.
Guiding.
The light reacted instantly.
It stopped pushing forward.
Stopped trying to break through him.
Instead—
It curved.
Flowing around his hand, slipping past him like a redirected current, the intensity dropping just enough to stabilize.
Elara gasped softly.
“…I did it.”
“Yes.”
The energy dimmed slightly, no longer violent, no longer out of control.
Still strong.
Still dangerous.
But contained.
Her breathing slowed.
Just a little.
“That was too close,” she muttered.
“It was necessary.”
She blinked at him. “Necessary? I almost hit you!”
“You did hit me.”
“That’s not better!”
“I am unharmed.”
“That’s not the point!”
A flicker of something crossed his expression again—something calmer this time.
Almost… approving.
“It proves something,” he said.
Her brows furrowed. “What?”
“That your power will not harm me.”
She stared at him.
“…You tested that?”
“Yes.”
Her jaw dropped slightly.
“You let me do that?”
“I did not interfere.”
“That is the same thing!”
“No.”
She let out a sharp breath, half frustrated, half disbelieving.
“You are insane.”
“I am correct.”
“…I hate that you might be right.”
His gaze didn’t waver.
“You did not lose control,” he said.
“I absolutely did—”
“You recovered.”
That stopped her.
Her mouth opened slightly—
Then closed again.
Because… he wasn’t wrong.
She looked down at her hand.
The light was still there.
Faint now.
Steady.
Not wild.
Not dangerous.
Just… present.
“I thought once I lost it, that was it,” she admitted quietly.
“It would have been,” he said. “Before.”
Her eyes flickered back up to his.
“Before?”
“Before you understood it.”
She hesitated.
“…And now?”
“Now you are learning.”
A strange warmth settled in her chest.
Not from the power.
Something else.
Something quieter.
“…That didn’t feel like learning,” she said. “That felt like almost dying.”
“It often does.”
“…Comforting.”
Silence stretched between them again.
But it wasn’t heavy.
Not like before.
Something had shifted.
Something subtle.
But undeniable.
Elara became aware—again—of how close they still were.
Closer than before.
The space between them barely there.
Her breath caught slightly as she stepped back, putting just a small distance between them.
“…You could’ve warned me,” she muttered.
“It would not have been as effective.”
“Of course not.”
She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly.
“Next time, maybe give me a heads-up before you decide to test whether I can accidentally kill you.”
“I will consider it.”
“You won’t.”
“No.”
“…At least you’re honest.”
A faint flicker of that almost-smile again.
Elara shook her head slightly, trying to ignore the way her chest tightened at the sight.
“…So what now?” she asked.
“You continue.”
She groaned softly. “Of course I do.”
“You need consistency.”
“I need a break.”
“You cannot afford one.”
She gave him a flat look. “I just survived my own power attacking you.”
“And you succeeded.”
“That doesn’t make me less tired.”
“It makes you more capable.”
“…You’re really bad at comfort, you know that?”
“I am not here to comfort you.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”
But there was no real bite behind it.
Not anymore.
Another pause.
Then—
“…You said my power wouldn’t harm you,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“Because it recognizes me.”
Her stomach dropped slightly.
“…Recognizes you how?”
“It knows what I am.”
“And what is that?”
His gaze held hers.
Steady.
Unreadable.
“Something you are not ready to understand yet.”
She let out a slow breath.
“There it is. I was wondering when you’d say something like that again.”
“It is the truth.”
“I’m starting to hate that phrase.”
“That will not change its accuracy.”
“…Yeah, yeah.”
She looked away for a moment, her thoughts racing.
Then—
“…You said my power won’t hurt you,” she said slowly. “But will it hurt everything else?”
“Yes.”
Her chest tightened.
“…So I really could lose control and hurt someone.”
“Yes.”
The honesty in that answer hit harder than anything else.
No hesitation.
No softening.
Just truth.
Elara swallowed.
“…Then I need to get better,” she said quietly.
“You will.”
Not maybe.
Not if.
Will.
She looked at him again.
And for the first time—
She believed it.
Not because of blind trust.
Not because she fully understood anything yet.
But because of the way he said it.
Certain.
Unshakable.
Like failure wasn’t even an option.
“…Okay,” she said softly.
Kaelith studied her for a moment.
Then—
“Again.”
She huffed out a small breath.
“Of course.”
But this time—
When she raised her hand—
There was no hesitation.
Only focus.
Only intent.
And something new—
Something stronger—
Beginning to take shape.
- Writer
