The battlefield was a storm of chaos—rifts yawning open like the mouths of ravenous beasts, spewing creatures twisted by the abyss. The air crackled with magic, the screams of the wounded drowned beneath the roars of the monstrosities pouring through.
Arasha and Kael fought back-to-back, their movements synchronized in a way that spoke of countless battles fought together.
Kael, still unawakened, wielded his sword with practiced precision, his blade cutting through the horrors while his barrier magic flickered to protect them both. Despite his lack of an upgrade, he had adapted, his instincts sharper, his reactions faster.
Arasha, ever the warrior, pushed forward, her strikes precise and lethal, her inborn gifts burning bright with every move. But even she was reaching her limits.
Kael saw it—the exhaustion creeping into her stance, the slight delay in her dodges, the growing weight in her breathing. She was pushing herself too hard.
And then it happened.
A massive rift tore open above them. The sheer force of its pull knocked them off balance, and from within, something colossal began to emerge—an entity of writhing shadows, ancient and monstrous, its presence suffocating.
Arasha braced herself, but she knew.
She wasn't strong enough.
Not like this.
Her mind raced, desperate for a solution. They couldn't afford to lose here.
And then, amidst the cacophony of battle, a voice—deep, powerful, ancient—whispered into her very soul.
"Arasha of the Everglow Bloodline… will you bargain?"
She froze.
The voice… it was familiar. It bore the weight of old prayers, of whispered reverence in her mother's homeland.
A god was speaking to her.
"I shall grant you strength—refine your gift beyond mortal bounds. In return… the price shall be determined when your goal is met."
Arasha's grip tightened around her sword.
She didn't trust the gods.
She knew nothing came without cost.
But—Kael was beside her, still fighting, still unawakened, and the rifts were only growing stronger.
Could she afford to hesitate?
No.
Gritting her teeth, she made her choice.
"I accept."
A surge of power flooded her veins, her very soul alight with an overwhelming force. The world blazed around her—her body, her magic, her senses all breaking past their limits.
And as she turned back to the battlefield, blade in hand, the darkness no longer felt quite so suffocating.
For the first time, the rifts feared her.
The fires of battle had long since died down, but the tension between them still lingered. The night was cool, the sky littered with stars, yet the weight of unspoken words pressed between them heavier than any battlefield.
Kael stood rigidly in the candlelit tent, his hands clenched at his sides, his brows drawn together in frustration. Arasha sat across from him, expression unreadable, shoulders relaxed despite the storm she knew was coming.
"Why?" Kael finally asked, voice hoarse, strained with emotion.
Arasha sighed. She knew this was inevitable.
"Because I had to," she answered simply.
Kael's hands curled into fists. "You don't even know what you've agreed to. That god gave you power, but at what cost, Arasha? What if—" he stopped himself, exhaling sharply, trying to rein in the fear clawing at his chest. "What if it's something you can't bear?"
Arasha tilted her head, a slow smile gracing her lips. "You're worrying too much."
"Of course, I'm worried!" Kael burst out, his voice rising. He raked a hand through his hair in frustration before looking at her, his eyes burning with something deeper than anger—fear.
"This wasn't supposed to happen."
Seraphine blinked. "I know. Like how I'm not suppose to be alive right—"
Kael forcefully interjected with anger laced with great sorrow,"YES! And You weren't supposed to receive a god's favor. It wasn't in the future I know. And now, I don't—"
Kael suddenly stopped.
"I don't know what to expect." Kael added looking at Arasha then covered his eyes with his palm to stop his tears from falling.
Arasha stared.
Kael had been so certain about everything before. She had seen the way he carried himself, how he always seemed to know what to expect. But now, standing before her, he looked—lost.
That realization made something tighten in her chest.
"Kael," she said softly, rising to her feet.
He turned away. "I just—Arasha, what if it leads to something worse? What if the price is something you—"
Before he could finish, Arasha stepped forward and pulled him into an embrace.
I know what I did was right but seeing Kael in so much despair...I can't stop hoping he smiles instead...
With that thought, Arasha could only childishly imitate what her father did when her mother was mad at him in the past, to embrace.
Kael stiffened.
Her warmth was real, grounding, and despite himself, his arms slowly wrapped around her, holding on as if she might slip away.
"Everything will be alright," she murmured, voice gentle but firm. "No matter what happens, I'll handle it."
Kael clenched his jaw. "You don't know that."
"Then believe in me," she whispered.
He hated how easily she said it. How much he wanted to believe her.
For a long moment, they just stood there, holding onto each other in the dim glow of candlelight. Kael could feel her steady heartbeat against him, as if silently promising that she would always be here, no matter what price she had to pay.
And then—
"Oh my, should I come back later?"
They both froze.
Arasha turned her head slightly, already recognizing the teasing lilt in that voice.
Leta stood by the tent flap, arms crossed, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.
"You two should get some rest," she drawled, "or should I leave you alone for a bit longer?"
Arasha pulled away first, clearing her throat, while Kael immediately turned away, face dark with embarrassment.
"Shut up, Leta." Arasha muttered, but there was no heat in her voice.
Leta just chuckled, watching them with knowing amusement before slipping away.
Arasha sighed.
Kael still wouldn't meet her eyes, but his grip had lingered on her arms for just a second longer before letting go.
She smiled to herself.
At least, even in this uncertain future, they weren't alone.