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He stares up at the moon, that silent, distant witness, as if he’s looking for answers in its pale light. It feels like he’s not even talking to me anymore, but to himself, to the night, to the wind, finally unburdening himself of a truth he’s kept locked away for too long.

“Loving someone I didn’t truly know was foolish, and I recognized that.

I knew loneliness had a way of distorting your perspective.

But I also knew that if I didn’t face this illusion, if I didn’t confront it, it would consume me.

It would become a shadow hanging over everything, especially with the prospect of a loveless, arranged marriage looming.

So, I returned. To the alchemy hall. To you. To break the illusion.”

He left a prestigious position as a Fire Eye… for me ? Everyone assumed he was studying for his fifth ring and needed a year away from the road. But the truth… If his voice wasn’t so achingly sincere, I’d dismiss it all as a fabrication.

“But being near you… It did the opposite. Suddenly, you weren’t this idea I’d built up.

You were just… wonderfully real. Being with you, hearing your voice, and even sharing the quiet stillness of the same space, it settled something deep inside me.

It brought a profound peace, a quiet calm to my spirit I hadn’t known for so long…

perhaps never truly knew before. It was like finding a lost piece of my own heart, a warmth I never realized I was cold without.

That instant sense of recognition, of truly belonging with you…

as if we were cut from the same cloth, two sides of the same coin.

I just knew , deep down, that you’d understand, without a single word from me, the silent burdens, the sheer weight of… ”

He falters, visibly struggling to articulate the immensity of his thoughts, and finally lets the sentence hang unfinished as if his feelings are too deep for easy words. But a slight, helpless shake of his head conveys more than words ever could.

“I wanted to know you better. Away from the limited interactions we were allowed in Firelands, and then, just as I was finally gathering the courage to ask you to come to Aramis, to offer you an escape…

" He closes his eyes for a moment, the lines of tension returning, etched deep around his mouth and eyes.

“My father fell ill, and duty called me back to Aramis.”

He sighs, lost in his own memories. I listen, stunned, feeling as if I’m hearing a story about a stranger, a woman whose life only intersected with mine. How can we remember our time in the Fire Temple so differently? I never sensed any connection between us.

But maybe he is right. I had wrapped myself in solitude and didn’t notice much of what was happening around me. It was only in Jahanwatch, surrounded by strangers and sharing a common interest, that I began to drop my guard and open up to the possibility of connecting with others.

I look at Zanyar. His face is glowing softly in the moonlight, and a quiet sadness is written all over him.

I can’t help but feel a surge of empathy as I catch a glimpse of the loneliness on his face that I’m all too familiar with.

It’s hard to believe that someone so admired, someone people chase after, could feel so alone inside.

In his eyes, I glimpse the reflections of my own long-fought battles. The gnawing isolation, the desperate yearning for a place to belong, emotions I had hidden from others for years. My solace, my escape, had been the dream of Martysh; for him, it had been me .

His escape had been a beautiful phantom, a shimmering mirage—an idea of who he wished I was, not the real woman that I am. Is my own solace, Martysh, the dream I held so close, just as fragile, just as unreal?

“Those moons were intense,” Zanyar continues.

“When my father came back from the brink of death, he didn’t hold back in telling me how much I’d caused his illness by denying him the heir he wanted.

However, in his recovery, I saw an opportunity.

I brought up the melding experiment, and surprisingly, he agreed.

Still, I knew I had to be patient, so I waited for you to earn your fourth ring.

I was sure it would happen sooner than anyone thought.

I wanted to use that moment to persuade the council to send you as an envoy without the risk of their refusal.

When I heard about your achievement, I rushed back to Firelands immediately, only to discover that you had requested to participate in the trials—a choice that would separate us forever. ”

The silence stretches, filled with the echo of his confession. I am completely speechless. My heart is a chaotic mess of emotions I can’t untangle: disbelief, gratitude, a strange, growing warmth, and a deep, familiar ache.

I feel a soft, tender impulse to close the distance between us, to hug him, to extend the very comfort I had yearned for in countless lonely moments when no one else had seemed to care.

I want to speak, to acknowledge the years of his silent watchfulness. And to thank him. To tell him that his words have somehow begun to soothe some of the old wounds in my heart.

No one has ever cared for me like this.

But the words catch in my throat, and as always, my tongue feels heavy and useless to put words to my thoughts and feelings .

But maybe he doesn’t need a response. Maybe this is just a release.

He senses our time might be running out, that the trials are drawing to a close, and our paths might diverge, perhaps forever.

Maybe he just needed to say it, to unload the burden of this long-held secret, understanding it might soon be swallowed by the inevitable distance between us.

So I sit in silence, cherishing this moment of connection and unexpected intimacy, even as I mourn its possible end.

The night surrounds us like a vast, silent expanse, with only the stars as our companions. Dawn feels impossibly distant, and for this one precious moment, I want to hold onto this fragile peace, suspend time, and ignore the chaos that waits for us when we return to Jahanwatch.

But just as I begin to surrender to the stillness, to the quiet comfort of this shared solitude, Zanyar turns to me, and his face shifts. “Arien, about my offer… will you reconsider?”

My gaze meets his, watching me intently, and I open my mouth to respond, to say… something , but the words evaporate. My mind is blank, a frustrating, terrifying void where answers should be, and I shake my head helplessly. “I… I don’t know.”

He turns fully toward me, and suddenly, he’s too close.

He invades my space, not aggressively, but…

completely. He places a warm and gentle hand on my arm, and I instinctively arch into the contact with a subtle, involuntary movement.

I’m trapped, not by walls, but by him , by the sheer force of his presence.

“Arien.” My name on his lips is a low, urgent sound. His warm breath ghosts across my face, and I find myself struggling to breathe. But I can’t look away. I’m caught, mesmerized, held captive by the intensity of his gaze, a gaze that has always held a strange, unsettling power over me.

“I was wrong. I should have told you everything. From the beginning. It was a mistake. I’m not…

I’m not… emotions… they’re not something I understand easily, let alone express.

And I confess, I still question the nature of my feelings; that’s why I wanted to take time to understand them better when we were in Aramis, away from Firelands’s watch.

I also didn’t want to frighten you or overwhelm you. ”

He takes a shaky breath. “But my plan was foolish. I thought your chances in the trials were slim without allies. I thought, when you lost, I could offer you a new life in Aramis. And then, eventually, when we knew each other better when I was more certain about my feelings, I could tell you the truth.” He shakes his head, a flicker of self-disgust crossing his face.

“But I was wrong. I underestimated you. Like all the other Ahiras. You proved that you could win. And I know that you will win, if you choose to.”

Gods, he’s close. I bite my lip in an attempt to anchor myself, to find some semblance of control, but it only makes things worse.

His gaze drops to my lips, and like the arena, it lingers there with a silent, possessive claim that sends a tremor through my entire body.

The air between us feels like kindling, ready to burn at the first suggestion of heat.

He inhales a slow, deep, almost shuddering breath as if he’s trying to memorize my scent.

The sheer intimacy of it, the raw, unspoken need radiating from him, is almost unbearable.

The way he’s looking at my mouth… there’s more than hunger in his eyes.

It’s like he’s been holding himself back for an eternity, and the restraint is about to shatter.

I swallow, unable to decide what to do. I don’t know how to react. This closeness, this overwhelming intensity, it’s completely foreign. I’ve never prepared myself mentally for a situation like this. I’ve never…

My lips part, unbidden. It’s a small, involuntary gasp, but the movement seems to break the haze in his eyes. His gaze snaps back to mine, and they’re burning with a fierce, almost predatory green fire that steals the air from my lungs. It prickles my skin. Makes my heart thunder.

He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body like a tangible warmth. I can see the faint stubble shadowing his jaw, the pulse throbbing in his throat, the slight tremor in his hands. And that suspense is somehow more terrifying than if he’d simply kissed me.

Do you want him to kiss you?