Chapter One contd...
1205 Words
The northern gates of Aerath were built for war, not for escape. Iron teeth bit into the night sky, the torches along the battlements burning through the rain like small, stubborn suns.
Liora crouched behind a wagon waiting to be inspected, soaked through, shaking. The storm hid her well enough, but the guards were restless; they’d heard the blast from the market. Their captain’s voice cracked across the stones:
“Find the witch before dawn!”
Her stomach twisted. She wasn’t a witch. She was just… wrong. Born wrong, made of two kinds of blood that should never have met.
A flash of silver at the far end of the square caught her eye — Celestial armor, moving with lethal grace. For a moment, her heart stopped, thinking Kael had changed his mind. But the man was shorter, bulkier. Not him.
Not him.
She exhaled and waited for the wagon to move. When it finally creaked toward the gate, she slipped into the shadows behind it, keeping low. One guard glanced her way, squinting through the rain — she froze, pulse loud enough to drown the thunder.
A voice called from the parapet: “Captain! Word from the Prince!”
The guard turned, distracted.
Liora ran.
Through puddles and mud, over cobblestones slick with rain. The gate loomed ahead — then the open road, a dark ribbon leading north into forest and fog.
She didn’t look back until the torches were only pinpricks behind her.
Only then did she let herself breathe.
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The forest of Valenmoor welcomed her with silence. The trees there were ancient, their roots deep and tangled, the canopy so thick that even the storm seemed afraid to enter. She found shelter beneath a low arch of rock, where the rain dripped in silver threads.
Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Magic still buzzed beneath her skin, wild and hungry from the blast earlier. It wanted out.
She pressed her palms against the ground, willing herself to calm. The earth was cool, steady. Slowly, her breathing matched the rhythm of the rain outside.
“Sleep,” she murmured to herself. “Just sleep.”
But sleep didn’t come.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw blue fire and the Prince’s gaze — sharp as a blade, yet unbearably human for one brief heartbeat.
Why had he let her go?
She didn’t trust it. No one like him helped anyone like her. Maybe he meant to follow, to track her when she led him to something bigger. Maybe he simply wanted to see what she would do next.
Or maybe — and this thought she tried to bury — maybe he’d seen the same impossible recognition she had felt.
The rain eased near dawn. The first gray light touched the forest floor when a branch cracked somewhere behind her.
She was on her feet instantly, heart pounding.
“Who’s there?”
No answer.
She reached for the small dagger she kept in her boot. The hilt was smooth from years of use, the blade etched with faint symbols she didn’t understand — her mother’s gift.
Another sound: soft footsteps, deliberate. Someone who knew how to move quietly.
She stepped out of the rock shelter, scanning the trees. Mist curled low to the ground, turning every shape into a ghost.
Then he stepped through it.
Kael.
The armor was gone, replaced by a dark cloak, the hood pushed back. His hair was damp, his face cut with exhaustion, but his eyes — that same piercing blue — found her with unnerving ease.
“You followed me.”
He stopped a few paces away. “You didn’t make it hard.”
“Why?”
He hesitated, as if even he wasn’t sure. “Because I needed to know you survived.”
Liora laughed once, a short, bitter sound. “You nearly killed me, then saved me, and now you’re worried about my wellbeing? You Celestials really are strange.”
Kael didn’t react. “You don’t understand what you did back there. Breaking a sigil forged by the High Court— that’s impossible. For anyone but you.”
“I told you, I don’t want this power.”
“Wanting has nothing to do with it.”
He stepped closer. She didn’t back away this time, though every instinct screamed she should. Rainwater dripped from the edge of his cloak; the scent of metal and storm surrounded him.
“You can’t stay in Aerath’s shadow forever,” he said. “Others will come. Hunters, assassins, priests who think killing you will lift the curse. You need to learn control.”
“And you’re going to teach me?” she asked, mocking.
“If I must.”
Their gazes locked. The air between them thinned, charged. Liora’s pulse skipped; something in his eyes softened, then hardened again — the flicker of a man torn between oath and desire.
A gust of wind swept through the clearing, tossing her hair across her face. Kael reached up, almost without thought, and brushed the strands aside. The touch was brief but burned hotter than any flame she could conjure.
Liora swallowed. “You shouldn’t touch me.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “And yet…”
He dropped his hand before the thought could finish.
For a long moment they stood there, two fugitives from different worlds, listening to the forest breathe.
Kael broke the silence first. “There’s an abandoned watchtower east of here. Safe enough until nightfall. Come with me.”
Liora hesitated. Trusting him felt like stepping off a cliff. But staying here meant being hunted by worse things than princes.
She nodded once. “Lead the way.”
As they walked, the mist thickened, muffling their footsteps. Liora kept her distance, watching the set of his shoulders, the tension in his movements. Whatever drove him, it wasn’t simple duty anymore.
When the tower finally rose from the fog — a crumbling spire wrapped in vines — Kael glanced back at her. “We’ll rest here,” he said. “Then we talk.”
“About what?”
“About what you are.”
Inside, the air was dry and cold. A small fire soon crackled in the corner, casting their shadows long across the stone.
Liora sat opposite him, knees drawn up, watching the flames dance. Kael removed his cloak, revealing a faint burn across his chest — the mark her magic had left.
She stared at it, guilt and fascination warring inside her. “Does it hurt?”
He looked down at the scar, then at her. “Only when I forget why it’s there.”
The quiet stretched between them, heavy with unspoken things — fear, curiosity, something that might one day turn into trust, or something more dangerous.
Outside, the storm died completely. The first pale light of morning slipped through the cracks in the tower wall, touching her face like a benediction.
Kael’s gaze lingered there a moment too long.
He turned away, eyes on the fire. “Rest, Liora. We start at dawn.”
She didn’t answer. She was already watching the flames, wondering what kind of dawn would come for two souls cursed by blood and destiny.
- Writer
