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A thousand answers churn in my mind, all of them leading back to one core truth: I fear losing her to the same darkness that claimed Nerezza.

But how do I articulate that without sounding paranoid or insulting her strength?

My wings droop slightly. “You saw what Nerezza said,” I finally manage, voice low.

“She planted seeds of doubt—about you, about us. She wants to tear us apart from within. I… I can’t pretend it didn’t work.

She reopened wounds I thought I’d buried. ”

Sariah’s lips part in pained understanding. “Kaelith, she’s trying to manipulate you. Me. Both of us.”

“I know,” I snap, more harshly than intended.

Then I scrub a clawed hand over my jaw, sighing.

“I know,” I repeat, softer. “But it doesn’t stop the memories.

She was once like you—passionate, determined, convinced she could harness any magic for the greater good.

Then it twisted her, made her something horrifying.

I see parallels, Sariah, and it terrifies me. ”

She takes a deep breath, tears threatening. “I’m not her,” she says, trembling. “Don’t you trust me enough to see that?”

My gut twists with guilt. “I do trust you,” I say, voice rough. “But I didn’t see Nerezza’s corruption until it was too late. What if I’m blind again? What if, by letting you rely on my magic, I’m steering you down the same path?” My runes pulse, the tether tugging painfully.

She stares at me, heartbreak shining in her eyes.

“I won’t become her. I won’t let that happen.

You’ve seen me fight, seen me resist Drayveth’s demands that I kill you.

I don’t want unchecked power—I just want to be free, to stand against Nerezza.

” She swallows hard, lips trembling. “And… I want to stand with you.”

My heart clenches. She wants me. The knowledge cuts deep.

Yet the old guilt roars inside, reminding me how I once let love blind me to the cracks in Nerezza’s soul.

“It was partially my fault,” I rasp, the confession slipping out unbidden.

“Nerezza wanted to save my people, the gargoyles, from extinction. I… I never realized how far she’d go.

I didn’t stop her early enough. I failed her.

I failed everyone.” My wings sag in remembered grief.

“She became the monster because I was too late to see her fall.”

Sariah’s expression softens with pained sympathy. “You can’t blame yourself for her choices. You said she was messing with chaos magic, forging pacts that no one could have foreseen. You did what you had to—eventually—by sealing her away.”

“Too late,” I mutter, voice hollow. “Thousands died first. My kin twisted, entire enclaves leveled. If I’d acted sooner, none of that might’ve happened. I bear that sin, Sariah. Every day, it gnaws at me.”

She reaches out slowly, placing a hand on my arm. The tether quivers in recognition. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “Truly. But punishing yourself forever won’t bring them back.”

I stiffen at her gentle touch. My reflex is to pull away— I don’t deserve comfort.

But the tether’s warmth seeps into my chest, loosening some of my rigidity.

“I know,” I admit, voice tight, “yet I can’t shake the fear that if I let you in too close, I’ll repeat the same mistake.

Or worse, that I’ll watch you become a new Nyxari and be forced to seal you away too. ”

She flinches, tears slipping free. “So you’d rather push me away preemptively? Let me stumble alone, risking my life and sanity because you’re afraid you’ll fail me?”

Her words strike like a blade to the gut.

My claws curl into my palms, drawing faint crescents of pain.

“I’m not… it’s not that simple.” But I can’t deny she’s partly correct.

I am trying to protect her by distancing myself.

“If you rely on me too much—on our synergy—the tether grows stronger. That power can be addictive.”

She exhales shakily. “Kaelith, we’re already bound. Running from it doesn’t make the bond disappear—it just leaves me confused and alone, unsure if I can count on you when Drayveth or Nerezza corners me.” Her tears glisten in the moonlight. “I need you with me, not half-heartedly hovering.”

My throat tightens. The longing in her voice resonates with the tether, stirring my own deep-seated desire to shield her, to be her partner in every sense. “Sariah…” I whisper, fighting the swirl of conflicting urges. “I?—”

Before I can finish, a faint shout echoes from around the bend. We both jerk, hearts pounding. Another threat? I spin, wings half-flared. But the shout fades into muffled conversation. Probably Drayveth’s subordinates bickering about guard rotations. Sariah and I share a tense exhalation.

She rubs her arms, returning to a whisper. “We keep getting interrupted,” she murmurs, voice trembling with frustrated tears. “I can’t stand this. One crisis after another, and you won’t even let me in.”

Guilt hammers my chest. “You think I don’t want to hold you, to trust you fully?

” I hiss, stepping closer than I should.

“The tether drags me toward you, and every fiber of me wants to yield. But then I see Nerezza’s face, hear her laughter, recall how we soared together and how that ended.

I can’t shake the dread that you’ll follow her footsteps.

I won’t watch another woman I—” I bite my tongue.

Another woman I love? Too bold. My runes flicker, and I clamp down on the thought.

Sariah’s eyes widen, tears glistening. “Another woman you what?” she demands, voice raw. “Kaelith, do you care for me, or do you only see me as a liability you need to manage?”

My heart twists painfully. She’s cornering me, forcing me to confront the truth I’ve tried to bury. The tether pulses, urging me to speak. “I care,” I admit, breath ragged. “More than I should. And that’s precisely why I’m afraid.”

Her features soften, relief mingled with heartbreak. She steps closer, the brand on her wrist pulsing in quiet synergy with my runes. “Then stop punishing yourself. Stop punishing me. Let’s figure this out together, not sabotage it from fear.”

A tremor runs through me as I meet her gaze.

Her storm-gray eyes hold a fierce sincerity that chips away at my defenses.

She’s not Nerezza. I remind myself of the times she shielded me in battle, the nights she stayed awake tending my wounds, the unwavering loyalty she displayed against Drayveth’s demands.

Maybe— just maybe —she’s strong enough to resist the pull of chaos that once ensnared Nerezza.

“I—” I start, voice cracking. “I’m trying. I promise I’ll try. But please, understand if I slip back into caution. The past is a wound that won’t close.”

She exhales, tears trembling on her lashes. “Then we’ll face it one at a time.” Her hand lifts to graze my runes with delicate fingers, sending a jolt through the tether. I exhale shakily, the urge to pull her against me colliding with my ingrained fear.

“Thank you,” she whispers, eyes full of sorrow and relief.

Slowly, she draws me into a brief, tentative embrace.

Her arms wind around my waist, and my wings stiffen in surprise.

After a heartbeat, I allow myself to circle her shoulders, pressing my face into her hair.

My chest twists with longing, guilt, and a flicker of fragile hope.

We stand like that for a moment, the mountain wind ruffling our clothes, the muted crackle of the distant fire mingling with the faint hum of our tether. I want to lose myself in the warmth of her presence, but I force myself to remain vigilant. We can’t afford any illusions of safety.

At last, we break apart, breath mingling in the cold air. She runs a trembling hand across her cheek, blinking away the last tears. “Let’s go back,” she says softly. “Try to get some rest before the next crisis.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. We rejoin the others, each lost in their own troubled thoughts. Drayveth’s subordinates keep a wary eye on us, but no one speaks. The air is thick with exhaustion, the aftermath of battles and betrayal.

Night deepens. Stars peek through scattered clouds, their pale glow revealing the harsh lines of the canyon.

The wind picks up, carrying a faint scent of ice.

Sariah and I settle near the dying embers of the fire, a respectful distance from Drayveth’s group.

She claims she’ll keep watch, but her eyes droop with fatigue.

Without a word, I step in, offering to take over.

She tries to protest, but her exhaustion is evident.

Reluctantly, she slumps against a boulder.

I see the bruises on her arms, the strain in her posture.

My chest aches. I want to cradle her, let her rest against me.

But I maintain a careful space, recalling the vow I just made to try without smothering her. It’s a delicate line.

When the others drift into restless slumber—Drayveth included, though he sleeps with his staff in hand—I remain awake.

My wings partially unfurl for better balance, tail coiled around my ankles, scanning the dark perimeter.

The tether pulses gently, a reminder of Sariah’s presence. She dozes, her breathing rhythmic.

Time crawls. The moon arcs overhead, painting the cliffs with silver.

Memories assault me when I stand guard, half-lulling me into a waking dream.

Nerezza’s laughter once echoed off these kinds of mountains, back in an era when we believed ourselves unstoppable.

I soared with her, free and brimming with hope.

Then I watch that memory fracture into images of her twisted brood, entire villages burned, gargoyles mutated into horrifying creatures.

My heart clenches. It was partially my fault.