Page 11

KAELITH

I stand at the cave’s entrance, silent as dawn stretches its pale glow across the rugged slopes of Prazh.

My breath steams in the cold air, but it does little to warm the chill seeping through my veins.

For centuries, I knew exactly who I was: a gargoyle warrior, bound by my own choice to that stone prison.

Now, everything has changed. The vow that once guided my entire existence is broken, undone by this mortal woman who sleeps fitfully only a few paces behind me.

Sariah. A purna with eyes that hold the same fierce spark I once admired in another.

It unnerves me how easily my memory slips from the present to the past, how the shape of Sariah’s determined chin conjures fleeting echoes of Nerezza.

That single name twists a blade in my chest, stirring guilt and regret.

My sacrifice was meant to ensure that Nerezza could never threaten Protheka again.

Yet here I stand, free—and so, undoubtedly, is she.

I drag in a slow breath, trying to ground myself in the moment.

Last night’s frost still clings to scattered stones, painting the ground in a silver sheen.

The sky overhead gradually shifts from inky black to a softer lavender, edged with gold near the horizon.

This place is undeniably beautiful, a stark contrast to the roiling conflict in my soul.

I want to just launch into the air, spread my wings to catch the biting winds, and escape.

But the tether ensures that isn’t an option.

I can’t fly off without jeopardizing Sariah—and, by extension, myself.

Curse this bond. A soft growl rumbles through my chest, echoing off the stone walls behind me.

I refuse to dwell on the discomfort too long.

There are too many pressing concerns. Drayveth, a dangerous purna, hunts Sariah.

Nerezza, the Nyxari I sealed away, likely stirs somewhere in the shadows of this continent, or perhaps beyond.

And I’m tethered to a mortal who rattles my carefully constructed defenses every time our eyes meet.

A shifting sound reaches my ears. I turn to see Sariah stirring from her makeshift bedding: a thin cloak and the few scraps of cloth we salvaged.

Shadows cling beneath her gray eyes, and there’s tension in the set of her shoulders.

She rises slowly, wincing as if her body protests the new day’s demands.

Her gaze flicks to me, and for an instant, an unspoken awareness passes between us—remnants of the unbreakable link that binds our magic and forces us into uneasy proximity.

I don’t want this. I sense she doesn’t either.

Yet we can’t deny the necessity of staying together.

Not if we hope to end this curse and prevent a darkness far greater from swallowing the world.

She clears her throat, voice scratchy with sleep. “Morning.”

I incline my head in a curt nod. “It is.” My words emerge harsher than intended, but I don’t apologize. I can’t afford softness. Not when my last attempt at gentleness led to heartbreak and betrayal.

Stepping away from the cave’s mouth, I examine the meager supplies we gathered the previous day.

We managed to scavenge a bit of dried wood for a fire, but our food is practically gone.

Neither of us is in top condition for a long journey.

And journey we must—Sariah mentioned a coven, Snowfall Glen, hidden deep in these mountains.

That might be our only lead for undoing this tether.

If those purna don’t kill me on sight. The ancient grudges between gargoyles and purna still linger in living memory, though I’m not the same as the monstrous raiders that once terrorized these lands.

“I’ll see if I can find anything edible,” Sariah murmurs. Her voice carries a tentative note, as if uncertain how I’ll react.

My wings flex involuntarily. “Stay close enough that the bond doesn’t weaken you,” I reply, glancing pointedly at the cave’s exit. “We can’t risk you collapsing again. If I have to track you down, it’ll be a waste of time we don’t have.”

She bristles, crossing her arms. “I’m not eager to separate. That nearly knocked me flat before.” A wry edge tinges her tone. “I’ll forage nearby. You can watch my every move if you like.”

I exhale sharply, trying to rein in my frustration.

“Go, then. I’ll gather more kindling. We’ll need a fire for tonight.

” It’s a small concession—allowing us to split up within a certain radius.

The tether’s invisible boundary extends only so far, but we have enough room to search a broader area without stepping on each other’s toes.

Sariah rolls her shoulders, shifting the cloak around her.

Without further comment, she heads downhill, where stunted shrubs and patches of moss cling to the rocky soil.

I watch her go, every muscle tensed in case she strays too far.

The connection hums in my chest, a subtle vibration that doesn’t belong.

Once I’m confident she’s still within range, I move in the opposite direction, scanning for dried branches or anything that might serve as fuel.

The morning light grows stronger, revealing the stark majesty of Prazh’s peaks.

Snow-capped summits gleam under the sun’s first rays, while shadows pool in the deeper valleys below.

In many ways, it mirrors my own existence: half drowned in darkness, half struggling toward daylight.

My thoughts drift again to Nerezza. The memory of her once-luminous face taunts me—how she laughed with such warmth, how she claimed she wanted peace between our races, how she risked everything to protect me from the purna’s wrath.

But as the wars escalated, she delved into forbidden magic, culminating in a transformation that left her unrecognizable.

The bitterness of that betrayal still tastes like iron on my tongue.

She loved me, or so I believed, yet she nearly destroyed all I held dear.

Did I fail her, or did she choose her path?

I’ll never know, because by the time I realized the danger, she was too far gone.

Sealing us both was the only option. But that seal is broken now.

Clenching my jaw, I force myself to focus on the present.

My vow was undone by Sariah’s meddling, but ironically, her presence might be the only way to restore what I lost. Whether that means recasting the seal or devising a new strategy, I can’t do it alone, not when my ancient wards unravel day by day.

My gaze flickers to the runes etched across my chest—faint lines of luminous red-gold that once glowed fiercely to maintain the prison.

Now they flicker like dying embers. If I use my earth magic too recklessly, I might degrade them further.

Shaking off the grim thought, I lean down to pick up a handful of branches.

They’re brittle, easy to snap. At least they’ll burn without too much smoke.

I pile them under my arm and continue along a narrow ledge, searching for anything else of value.

The slope here is treacherous, dotted with hidden crevices that could swallow a careless traveler.

My tail lashes behind me, aiding my balance on the uneven ground.

With each step, I smell the crisp bite of snow, the tang of raw stone.

Occasionally, the faint breeze carries a trace of Sariah’s scent—something slightly floral, with an undercurrent of magic.

I still find it disconcerting to be so attuned to her proximity.

By the time I return to our makeshift camp, the sun has climbed higher, painting the rocky outcrop in stark relief.

Sariah arrives moments later, her cloak draped with a small gathering of wiry grasses and a handful of pale berries cupped in her palm.

She eyes the branches under my arm. “At least we’ll have a fire,” she says by way of greeting.

Then she holds out the berries, carefully balanced.

“They’re sour, but edible. The grass might be worthless, unless you want to attempt weaving something. ”

I shrug, depositing the branches near the cave’s entrance.

“Better than nothing.” I glance at the meager handful of berries, my lips pressing into a thin line.

We’re in dire need of proper sustenance, but at least it’s a start.

My gaze flicks back to Sariah, noticing how the shadows under her eyes appear more pronounced in full daylight.

She’s pushing herself hard, likely because the tether demands we keep moving.

She must sense my scrutiny. “We can’t linger,” she says softly, fingertips brushing away a stray wisp of hair that falls across her cheek. “Snowfall Glen is a long trek, and if Drayveth closes in before we get there…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but tension tightens her features.

I nod. “Yes, we move.” My voice emerges gruff, but it’s the closest I can come to agreement without revealing the swirl of tangled emotions roiling inside me.

It’s better not to dwell on how her eyes flash with that resilience I once admired in another.

The reminder churns my gut, so I push past it. “Eat quickly. We’ll head out.”

We share the handful of berries, their tartness biting my tongue and jarring me awake.

The hunger in my belly is far from sated, but it’s enough to stave off the gnawing pit.

As we prepare to leave, Sariah crushes some of the wiry grass in her hand, releasing a faint, pungent scent.

“Might repel certain insects or small predators,” she remarks with a half-hearted shrug.

“Old purna trick from foraging lessons.”

“Whatever helps,” I say, not sure whether I believe her. Still, knowledge is a weapon, and if she can offer small bits of wisdom, I’ll accept them.