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When the storm lessens, we start making preparations. We’ll use the partial shelter of the monastery for the night, then move on at first light. While Elyria checks for a dry corner to sleep in,I stand by a broken window, letting the dripping vines brush my arms. Dusk is settling fast. Another night in unknown territory. I try to keep watch, scanning the tree line for any sign of movement.

My mind churns with images of the scroll.The last scion.If that rumor spreads…No,I decide.I won’t let it.I clench my fists, recalling how easily I can dispatch enemies with claws and winged strength.I’ll kill any gargoyle or dark elf that threatens her.But what if dozens come? Hundreds?

Elyria returns, cheeks flushed from rummaging around. “There’s a half-dry room near the library. The roof didn’t collapse there.” She hesitates, glancing at me. “It might be safer than the courtyard.”

I nod curtly. “Lead the way.”

She does, and soon we settle into a small nook lined by crumbled shelves. Water drips through cracks, forming shallow puddles on the flagstones. We gather old planks to lay on the ground, draping them with our traveling cloak for insulation. There’s no place to safely build a fire, so we’ll have to endure the damp chill. My gargoyle blood shrugs off most cold, but Elyria is only human.I’ll keep her warm if she lets me,I tell myself.

Night descends fully. My instincts scream to remain awake, but exhaustion weighs heavy after the day’s turmoil. Elyria curls against the corner, hugging her knees. Her chain clinks whenever she shifts. My heart aches at the audible symbol of her captivity.I vow to free her once it’s safe.The vow resonates in me like a stubborn lifeline.

Tentative, I move to sit beside her. She glances up. Worry lines her face. “I should keep watch,” she offers, but her eyes droop with fatigue.

“You’re exhausted,” I say. “Rest for a bit. I won’t sleep deeply anyway.”

She hesitates, then nods. I drape a corner of my worn cloak around her. She stiffens briefly at my touch, but then exhales, leaning into the warmth. Our shoulders press together, a small sign of fragile trust. Despite the swirling threat of discovery, the moment feels strangely peaceful—a lull in the storm of our reality.

Time drifts. We speak little. My thoughts circle back to the revelation in the archive. I watch her doze off, the tension in her features easing. I wonder what will become of us if we truly find the hidden valleys in the mountains.Is a peaceful life even possible?My soul churns with doubt.

At some point, I slip into a half-doze, waking with a start when my wing twitches. Elyria stirs beside me, blinking in confusion. My chest tightens with guilt.I should be fully on guard.But no threat has shown itself.

She rubs her eyes. “Anything out there?”

I shake my head. “No. Quiet.”

She exhales in relief, and presses and hand to her chest. Her collar catches the dim light, reflecting back at me like an accusation.If they only knew you’re a High Purna,I muse,they’d try to kill you… or worship you… or harness you.A swirl of protective anger roils in my gut.

Elyria clears her throat, noticing my stare. “What is it?”

I consider lying, brushing off her concern. But I’m too wound up. “I just… can’t shake the thought that once the clan learns I’ve spared you, especially after learning who you really are…” I trail off, uncertain how to phrase the next part without scaring her.

She understands anyway. Her shoulders slump. “It’d be a bloodbath, wouldn’t it? The Alpha and the others would hunt us down.”

My voice comes out rough. “Yes. They’ll see it as the gravest treason.”

A silence thickens, heavy with unspoken dread. Then she reaches out, fingers brushing my forearm. The chain rattles. I still, heart throbbing. She locks eyes with me, fear and gratitude warring in her gaze. “Thank you for not following that order,” she murmurs.

My throat constricts. “I—” The words catch.I want to say I’d do it again, no matter the cost,but that implies a finality I haven’t fully grappled with. “I can’t kill you, Elyria,” I manage, voice low. “I won’t. I’m not that creature anymore.”

She nods slowly, tears threatening to pool in her eyes. The vulnerability in her expression sears me. I lift a trembling hand, wanting to comfort her, but uncertain if it’s welcome. After a beat, I settle it lightly on her shoulder. She doesn’t recoil. Instead, she leans in, pressing her forehead to my neck. The contact jolts through me, a blend of solace and heartbreak.

We remain like that for a moment, two refugees from a war that might reignite at any second. My mind drifts to the vow I made: I’ll see her free, collar removed, far from the reach of gargoyle or dark elf.I can only hope we have the strength to survive until then.

Dawn breaks eventually, gilding the ruined monastery with pale light. Rain still drips from the rafters, echoing through the corridor. Elyria and I pack up quietly, neither of us speaking of the revelations that now shape our course. But the unspoken tension looms larger than ever.

When we emerge into the soggy courtyard, I notice a faint breeze carrying the scent of pine and damp earth from the north. The mountains beckon in the distance, their peaks lost in cloud. Danger and sanctuary, all at once.

Elyria stands beside me, arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes trace the horizon, as if seeking a path. The chain at her collar glints in the early sun, and a surge of protective urgency courses through my veins.We must keep moving.The HighPurna knowledge rests in my mind like a brand, fueling my determination.

She sighs, turning to me. “Ready?”

I adjust my pack, nodding. “Yes. Let’s go.”

We share one last glance at the ancient shrine behind us. In another time, we might have lingered to uncover its secrets, but we can’t afford that luxury now. Danger stalks us from all sides—my own gargoyle kin, the dark elves who suspect her existence, even the wild beasts that roam these lands.

Elyria sets off, chain in hand to keep it from rattling. I fall in step, scanning the trees, wings tense. Overhead, gulls or hawks circle in wide arcs, free to soar where they will.I can’t risk flight unless absolutely necessary,I remind myself. Keeping to the ground is safer for hiding tracks.

As we head deeper into the forest, the hush between us vibrates with new understanding. She is the last scion of a lineage that might rival the gods in raw power—if awakened. I’m the gargoyle sworn to exterminate such threats. Yet here we are, bound by necessity and something more tender that neither of us can name.