A song for the Dying
1207 Words
CHAPTER FIVE: A SONG FOR THE DYING
Kael POV
The firelight threw shadows across Elara’s face, catching in her lashes like dew. She wasn’t looking at me, her gaze lost somewhere in the flickering flames.
Her breath hitched, and I noticed her hands trembling in her lap, clenched tight as though she were holding something invisible in place. And still, she said nothing.
“Elara.” I kept my voice even, though my heart had already started to pound. “Talk to me. What did you see?”
She blinked slowly, her eyes unfocused, as if she were still trapped in the vision. “She spoke to me.”
I stilled, my pulse quickening. “Who?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded scraped thin, barely audible over the crackling fire. “A woman in black. Stones behind her. Blood... she was waiting for me.” My grip on my knees tightened, the weight of her words settling heavily in the air between us.
“Did she name herself?”
Elara shook her head, her expression distant. “What did she say?”
A long pause hung between us, thick with unspoken fears. Then, “That this curse doesn’t bind us to love. It binds us to the end.”
I exhaled slowly, as if the weight of her words pressed down on my ribs. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just looked into the fire and pretended the words meant nothing. But they did. More than she knew.
By dawn, her mark had dulled to a faint shimmer under the skin, no longer blazing gold, but still... present. Still waiting.
Elara barely touched her food that morning. She moved like someone wading through a dream they didn’t want to wake from. I watched her when she wasn’t looking—how her fingers brushed over the mark on her wrist, how her jaw tensed like she was trying to bite back a scream.
I didn’t sleep at all. Couldn’t. Not when something inside me kept clawing against my ribs, demanding answers.
We set off early, the frost-crusted marshland cracking beneath our boots. Mist coiled around our feet and tangled in the trees like ghostlight. The wind was silent. Too silent.
“You’re hiding something,” I said after a while, my eyes on the shifting branches above us.
She didn’t bother to lie. “You already knew that.”
I studied the set of her shoulders, the way they seemed to carry the weight of the world. “Do you think the vision was a warning?”
“No.” Her voice was distant, almost detached. “I think it was a promise.”
I stopped walking, the words hanging in the air like a storm cloud.
She took a few more steps before pausing, then turned to look at me, her expression unreadable.
“You think we’re meant to die,” I said, my voice low.
“I think one of us is.”
Her answer landed too easily. No fear. No doubt. Just the simple, brutal truth of it.
“You’re guessing.”
“No.” She stepped closer, her intensity palpable. “I feel it.” Her fingers tapped over her chest. “Right here. Like a string’s been tied around my lungs and someone is pulling it tighter every hour.”
I looked away, jaw locking. My heart was already pounding—faster than it should. My throat was tight—hot—and not from the cold.
“Maybe that’s just guilt,” I said, my voice flat, trying to deflect the truth.
She stiffened, the air between us crackling with tension.
I didn’t apologize. Couldn't. “Why would you say that?” Her voice barely hid the hurt.
I met her gaze, unflinching. “Because I saw your face after the vision. You looked… relieved.”
Her lips parted, disbelief flashing across her features. “Relieved?”
“You thought the curse had killed me.” I swallowed thickly, the admission tasting bitter. “And for a heartbeat, you were glad.”
“That’s not true—”
“It is,” I said quietly, the weight of my words heavy in the air. “You don’t want to survive this, Elara. You want to win. Even if it means losing everything else.”
“And you think you don’t?” she shot back, her voice rising.
Our eyes locked, the bond shifting between us again, taut as a drawn bow. My chest burned, but I didn’t move. Didn’t show it. Let her think I was fine. Even if every breath felt like broken glass.
The watchtower appeared just before dusk, half-sunken into the forest, its stone frame buried in snow and silence. I checked the perimeter, blade in hand. Nothing stirred. Still, my spine stayed tight, my senses prickling like stormlight on my skin.
Elara climbed the stairs while I circled the base again, my instincts on high alert. When I joined her, she stood at the top, arms folded, staring into the fog-wrapped trees.
For a moment, it was quiet.
Then I saw her stagger. Her hand slammed against the wall, breath-catching.
“Elara?”
She turned, eyes wide—but not with fear.
With recognition.
Then she spoke, her voice low and melodic. “The moon sees all things that bleed beneath her light.”
My heart dropped. That wasn’t her voice.
I was moving before the last syllable left her mouth, boots thudding against worn wood. I reached her, adrenaline surging through my veins.
“Elara.” My voice was calm, my hands steady. But inside—inside, I was screaming.
She looked at me, horrified. “I didn’t mean to say that. Kael, I swear—I don’t even know what that language was—”
The mark on her wrist flared, a sudden brightness that illuminated the shadows around us. And then—gods—A new light bloomed. On my throat.
I felt it before I saw it. A brand of pain, cold and dark, searing into flesh. I choked, gasped—instinctively reaching up to touch it.
Not a crescent.
A full moon.
I staggered, swallowing the sound of pain that threatened to rip free. My knees buckled, but I wouldn’t fall. Not in front of her.
“Elara—” I ground out, my voice rasping like I was breathing smoke.
She moved toward me, panic all over her face. “Kael—what’s happening?”
“Don’t—” I tried to step back, to put distance between us.
Too late. She caught me. Our skin met. And everything broke.
The world shattered inward.
It wasn’t a fire this time. Or lightning. It was emptiness. A cold that carved into my lungs like knives.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn’t scream. Could barely think.
But even as my body convulsed, even as my vision blurred, I held it back. Bit down on the sound clawing up my throat.
Elara screamed beside me. Her pain was raw, uncontained. I wanted to hold her, shield her, stop it all.
But I couldn't move. I couldn't even cry out.
The bond flared—silver now, sharp and punishing. And then—
Darkness took us both.
- Writer
