The council chamber inside Elandor's Guild Hall wasn't built for comfort. Cold stone. High arches. Walls lined with old banners and burnt-out scrying orbs. It echoed with every breath, every step — as if the past demanded to be remembered.
Kael sat at the far end of the chamber, arms crossed, jaw tight. Daren stood beside him, silent as the guildmasters argued near the center.
"…two full patrols gone. Another half-squad unresponsive near Bramble Hollow," barked Master Viren, a Silver-ranked commander with a scarred brow and too much pride. "This isn't a surge. It's a prelude."
"The Verge nest was supposed to be the source," said another. "You're telling me that wasn't even the real threat?"
Kael stood abruptly. "Whatever we fought in the Verge was organized. Tactical. The Humanoid Varnok weren't just feeding — they were testing us."
The chamber quieted for a moment.
Daren added, "And they weren't alone. Something else was watching. We found residual traces — something Eclipse-tier, maybe higher. And it didn't leave tracks."
A cold weight settled over the room.
No one spoke until Guildmaster Maerin stepped forward, robes trimmed with Radiant Essence thread. Her voice was calm, but beneath it, tension churned.
"Then we proceed with caution. No more scattered scouting. No more solo squads. From now on, strike teams only — and only under senior command."
Her eyes settled on Kael.
"Your unit will be the spearhead. You've seen what's out there. You've survived it."
Kael nodded slowly. "Understood."
But even as the meeting continued, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
⸻
Leiya sat at the balcony edge of the east tower, knees drawn up to her chest, her twin blades resting beside her. Her wounds had closed, the bandages now faint memory-threads along her ribs and thigh. But the ache lingered.
Not physical.
Kael found her there, stepping out from the stairwell with his cloak fluttering behind him. He didn't say anything at first — just sat beside her, both of them watching the sky burn with late afternoon orange.
She spoke first. "They said I shouldn't be standing yet."
He glanced sideways. "You're stubborn."
"Always have been."
A pause.
Then: "You didn't come see me for a full day."
Kael looked down. "I didn't know what to say."
Leiya exhaled through her nose. "I thought I was going to die, Kael."
"I know."
"I thought you'd blame yourself."
He didn't answer that.
Instead, after a long silence, he said, "I didn't want to face the part of me that cared too much."
She turned to him, something in her expression fragile and sharp all at once. "Is that what I am to you? Something dangerous to feel?"
Kael didn't flinch. "No. You're the reason I didn't fall apart."
Leiya's breath caught, just for a second.
Then, softly: "Then don't keep me at a distance. If we're in this together, let it mean something."
Kael's hand brushed hers — slow, uncertain. She didn't pull away.
"I don't know what the future holds," he said, voice low. "But if there's a path where we walk it together… I want to find it."
She smiled faintly, eyes shining despite the exhaustion.
"Then let's make sure we survive long enough to see it."
⸻
That night, a red flare lit the sky over the northern cliffs.
Kael and Leiya stood side by side on the tower balcony, watching the warning burn.
A new threat had risen — and this one wasn't waiting in the shadows.
It was coming straight for them.