Private Tales Echoes of the Elderglen

[Asher]

He rubbed the back of his neck, something tight and aching in his chest as she asked for his forgiveness. His voice was quieter when he finally spoke.

"If you ever said anything that hurt me, it was only because you were trying to protect yourself from something I said or did first. I suppose you were the only thing around that I perceived to be weaker than I was." He let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "I was wrong about that too. I think I spent so much time trying to be what our father wanted us to be—what Rivain expected—that I lost sight of everything else. I've no fucking idea who I actually am when I'm not around them." His gaze flickered to hers, uncertain. "I'm sorry. Maybe we can agree to forgive each other… and start over."

There was too much history between them, too many wounds neither of them had meant to leave. Too much of his own self-loathing he had used her to cover up.

When she spoke of her past with Fionn, the name alone sent a bitter, burning rage curling in his gut. He swallowed hard against it. Before he even realised what he was doing, his hand reached for her face, fingers tilting her chin until her golden eyes met his.

"Fionn has never cared about anything but himself," he said, his voice low, firm. "And you deserve so much better than any of us." His thumb brushed the curve of her cheek, his touch lingering. "If you had ended up a miserable wife to any male, I would have freed you from it. And if you ever feel trapped with me, I’d free you from that too.. You’ll have the peace and happiness you want. One way or another, Vess. I swear it."

His gaze held hers, unflinching, something in the air shifting as he spoke, as though the world itself had heard his promise.

His hand fell away as she asked the question of what he had stolen. His answer was quiet. Simple. But it weighed heavy in the space between them.

"My mother."

When she spoke of searching for someone who could help with his runes, he nodded, glancing away for a moment. "That’s why I’ve been gone as long as I have. Searching.." His voice was rougher now, carrying the weight of all the dead ends, the frustration, the longing. He sat forward, resting his arms on his knees, and finally turned to look at her again,

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he exhaled, deep and steady.

"The whole world," he echoed with a nod.

 

[Vespera]

“Okay,” She nodded softly, her lashes fluttering as she looked down at the river and then back at him. Her voice was quiet, but certain. “Forgive each other and start over.”

She wanted it. She needed it. She didn’t want to spend her life living in the past, not when it was filled with nothing but so much pain that either of them had meant to cause and live through. “I am sorry,” She couldn’t stop herself from adding one last time. “But not for trying…just hurting you when I was hurt.”

Vespera saw the flicker in his eyes when she spoke of Fionn. How the sparkle dimmed at the mention of his brother. Her heart sank. She didn’t want to talk about him anymore. She didn’t want to spend another moment dwelling on a person who had used her and tossed her away for something better. But more than that, she didn’t want to see the way Ash tried to hide the expression he wore. And when she turned to look away, he reached for her and her breath caught in her throat as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

Those emerald eyes.

Her favorite shade of green.

She blinked at his words, stunned by the heavy feeling that came with them. He would free her- even from himself. He’d rather watch her walk away than feel for a moment that she was trapped by any part of what had taken place.

But..

“I don’t want more. I don’t deserve more than anyone else.” She whispered, brows pulling together. “I only ever wanted to be equal. To be seen. To be wanted. To not be…less.” Less than less according to some.

Her fingers curled around his hand when it fell, holding it tightly in hers. “I don’t feel trapped. Not with you.”

And then he finally admitted that he took their mother. Something in her heart twisted painfully. She didn’t speak right away, afraid of what might come out of her mouth. But she memorized the words, committed them to memory. To a place where she stored truths she couldn’t share. Where she could protect them.

It’s not your fault. It could never be.

She thought those words, but did not say them aloud. They could wait until he was ready.

So she allowed the subject to change. Allowed Ash to look a little less tense. “You searched…all these months?” She looked back up at him. “Did you ever find anyone?” Her voice was tentative, like she already knew the answer to her question. But she hoped she was wrong and that he had found someone.

 

[Asher]

Asher studied her, his emerald gaze unwavering as she whispered her doubts. That she didn’t want more. That she didn’t deserve more.

His jaw tightened, but his voice, when he spoke, was quiet. Steady.

"You’ll always deserve more." His brow arched slightly, challenging her to deny it. "You survive in a world you were only half-born to, with less power, less strength. You work twice as hard as any of us. You endure. You adapt." He shook his head, lips pressing into a thin line. "Can you imagine, for even a moment, if fae lost their strength? Their power?" A beat passed, his expression knowing. "Do you really think we’d survive this place as you have?"

His gaze softened just slightly, and this time, when he spoke, his words held no challenge. Only quiet certainty.

"I see you. I want you." His throat bobbed as he swallowed, as though he wasn’t sure he should say the next part. But he did. Because it was true. "I have seen and wanted you for far longer than you know."

When she curled her fingers around his hand, holding tight, he let out a slow breath. The tension in his shoulders eased, just slightly. And when she told him she didn’t feel trapped with him, something in his chest loosened—something that had been wound tight for far too long.

He nodded, accepting it as truth. His fingers squeezed hers gently before he glanced away with a shake of his head.

"There was one runemaker," he admitted "in the Winter Court. But he refused to help me." A muscle in his jaw flickered. "I know of other shadow wielders who might be able to help me learn control, but I don’t even know if it’s the same power. If it works in the same way."

He shrugged, but there was an edge to it—a frustration he couldn’t quite hide. Months of searching, of chasing ghosts, only to come back empty-handed. Again.

"I'll keep looking." he nodded.

 

[Vespera]

Vess leaned back on her hands, letting the sun soak into her golden hair as she tilted her head up towards the sky. Her expression was unreadable as she contemplated his question. Would they survive if they lost magic? She didn't answer right away. She let that question drift with the breeze while her thoughts chased behind. Would the fae survive in her place? Even without power, they'd still be stronger, bigger, faster. More formidable. But she didn't say that aloud.

Instead, her gaze shifted, her lips twitching into the faintest trace of a smirk.

"You've wanted me for longer than I know?" She repeated softly, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. "You certainly have had a terrible way of showing it." A quiet laugh escaped her, not cruel. Just honesty with a warmth around its edges. "Did you want me when you were shoving me down to the ground during my first training sessions after Merenor determined I was of no use to his magic lessons? Or perhaps that time you told your brother I was as much use as a broken blade? Or that time you growled at me for making one teeny mistake when I was starting out." She didn't sound hurt at all. They had agreed to start over.

But she couldn't help teasing him just a little. "Careful, Ash, you're starting to make me think Rivain might want me too." At that, she cackled and laid back on her elbows.

"How long have you felt this way?" Her curiosity spoke up. "Wanting me. The bond. All of it."

Her golden eyes searched his face, not pushing. Just curious. Just wanting to know every detail that she had missed while resenting him for leaving. While trying not to want him.

Her brows knit together in frustration when he mentioned the runemaker refusing him. "Coward." She muttered under his breath, this time not directed at Ash. "You came to him for help and he turned you away. I don't care how ancient or skilled he is. That is cowardice." She exhaled an irritated huff and shook her head.

"And about the shadow wielders...You won't know if its the same or different unless you try. Why don't we start there? Just tell me where and we will go as soon as you are ready. I want to help you." She turned on her side to face him.

 

[Asher]

Asher groaned, dragging a hand down his face as she called him out with that teasing smirk. He had never felt quite so exposed, and yet, there was no venom in her words. No resentment. Just amusement wrapped in warmth. That, somehow, made it worse.

“Fuck…” he muttered, exhaling a quiet laugh. “I don't think I've ever been quite so openly honest in my life.” His fingers ran through his hair, a sheepish frown settling on his face. “I’m sorry for being such a shit.”

It took more courage than he wanted to admit to meet her gaze again.

“But yes,” he confessed, voice quieter now. “Through all of those times. Even then.” His throat bobbed. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, actually.." his skin flushed with heat as he dropped his gaze and cleared his throat shyly. Why the fuck did he feel so nervous?. "I’ve always felt drawn to you. But I wasn’t supposed to.” His jaw tightened, words getting caught somewhere between his heart and his throat.

“I was supposed to think…” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I thought there was something wrong with me. That maybe it was part of the weakness my father always spoke of. I didn’t want to be weak.” His hands curled into fists before he forced them to relax.

“And then Fionn showed interest.” His lip curled slightly at the name. “And I was so fucking… confused. I was angry. I was jealous. I didn’t know what to do with any of it.” His fingers twitched like they wanted to curl into fists again, but instead, he let out a breath, forcing himself to keep going. “That was when I—somewhat accidentally—set fire to my father’s study.”

A flicker of amusement crossed his face at the memory, but it faded quickly.

“I fought with you so much because it was the only way I knew how to interact with you without my father or Rivain thinking I was… soft.” His lips pressed together before he scoffed quietly, shaking his head. “Because, as you so kindly pointed out… I’m a coward. I was trying to be what they wanted me to be. Strong. Like Rivain."

He let the words settle between them, heavy but unchallenged.

“I didn’t realise we were bonded until I left,” he admitted, his voice lower now. “Not until I felt it. That pull. It didn’t let me rest. The further I went, the more it hurt. I saw you everywhere. In every shadow, every moment of quiet, every dream.” He sighed, releasing his tension with a slow breath. “You consumed every corner of my mind, every minute of the day… like an obsession.”

And still, she was here. Still, she was looking at him like he wasn’t beyond help, even after all he'd done.

When she shifted the subject, offering a path forward, he seized it like a lifeline.

A small, almost relieved smile curled at the corner of his lips as he nodded. “Alright. We can try.” His gaze softened. And for the first time in a long while, the weight of everything didn’t feel quite so unbearable.

 

[Vespera]

Every word that left Ash's mouth peeled back another layer of him that she hadn't even known existed. And gods, she felt all of it. His anger, his pain, the storm that was always brewing behind those emerald eyes. But she'd never known the shape of it. Never understood how how tightly it wound around her or that she'd been inside his thoughts long before the bond had made him aware of why.

Her heart beat hard in her chest.

So he was right. Another point to Ash and his damn claim: she was only observant when she wanted to be. And she hadn't wanted to be- not with him. Not when it was easier to believe that he hated her. Not when it was easier to be angry at the life she hadn't asked to be taken into. She had been angry for so long. But now?

Now she just felt...sorry. And warm. And seen in a way that both comforted and terrified her.

Her lips twitched faintly with an amused smile when he finally agreed that they could try to find the shadow wielder. Point taken. They needed not to dwell on how tortured he had been for so long. "Good." She murmured, still staring at him for a moment before finally rolling onto her back completely. Her hair spilled out beneath her, catching the sunlight like flame. She let her eyes drift closed.

The sun kissed her cheeks and the bit of skin on her chest where her top had turned into a v-shaped neckline. For a while, she just lay there. Silent. Letting it settle. Letting him settle.

Until she tugged at her sleeves, pulling them up and groaning. "Remind me next time I decide to waste coin not to buy long sleeves." Her nose wrinkled. "Why is it so humid here. The Glen has been hot, but never this sticky."

And then a little more thoughtful, perhaps eager to not be burning under the sun while boiling alive: "Where is the nearest shadow wielder? And when do you want to go?" She turned her head to the side and opened her eyes, the gold catching the sunlight. She wasn't pushing. She wanted to help him. And if there was a chance- any chance- of giving him even a fraction of peace that he had promised her, she would fight the world for it.

 

[Asher]

Asher should have answered her right away.

He should have kept his focus on the question, on the task at hand, on anything other than the way she sprawled back against the grass, golden hair spilling like wildfire around her. He should have looked anywhere but at the way the sun kissed her skin, highlighting the soft curve of her collarbone where her neckline dipped, or how the faintest sheen of sweat that glistened like a whisper of gold on the pulse of her throat.

But he didn’t. Because gods, she was mesmerising.

His breath felt too tight in his chest, his ribs caught in some unseen vice as he watched her, as he let himself feel the full weight of the fact that she was here. She was his.

The bond between them pulsed, something deep and old and all-consuming, and it was torture not to reach for her. Not to run his fingers through the fire of her hair. Not to press his palm against the warmth of her skin.

His jaw tensed, fingers curling into his palms like that would be enough to stop him from acting on impulse. It wouldn’t be. How had he ever convinced himself that he could walk away from this? How had he spent so long trying not to want her when she had already burrowed beneath his skin, taken root in every quiet space of his mind, every breath, every thought?

She had been in his his soul—long before the bond had forced him to acknowledge it.

And now she was looking at him, gold eyes catching the light as she asked him a question, and he realised too late that he hadn’t heard a damn word of it. He swallowed, dragging his gaze away, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat, forcing his thoughts back into order. “There’s the Autumn Prince, but I assume he’s quite busy right now…” He huffed a quiet laugh, finally managing to smother the temptation to keep staring at her like some love-drunk fool.

“Then there are one or two in the Night Court, but I’m not taking you anywhere near that place.” His voice was firm, final. He would rather let the curse rot through his veins than risk her setting foot there.

His fingers twitched at the thought before he exhaled, pressing forward. “There’s one from the Dawn Court,” he admitted. “She’s here, somewhere. I’ve been looking for her, but it seems she has a bounty on her head, so… she hasn’t exactly been easy to find.”

 

[Vespera]

She felt it long before he cleared his throat. It was there, right there. Pressing. Warm. Electric. The bond between them pulsing like a second heartbeat in her chest. It didn't matter when her eyes were closed. She could still feel him looking at her, could still feel the way his restraint frayed at the edges. Whatever this was, it had settled low in her stomach like fire. Slow burning and dangerous. A need, maybe. Something like it but something deeper.

That feeling had kept her from opening her eyes just a moment longer. Still too soon after feeling the sting of his rejections lingering in her skin. She was afraid she might fall into his gaze again. Might forget the careful walls she was trying hard to rebuild so she didn't make a fool of herself a third time.

And after she finally opened them and asked her questions, his silence stretched. Her lips curved into a sly little smile. "You didn't hear a single word of my question, did you?" She murmured, rolling back onto her side lazily. She propped her cheek up on her palm as she fixed her eyes on him with that familiar glint.

"Ash..." Her tone was warning, serious. "You cannot tell me where I will or will not go." She said it very matter-of-fact, but her voice was light and layered with steel. "If the Night Court is where the next piece of your puzzle lies, then so be it. You are not leaving me behind."

Not again.

And she meant that. Deep down, something in her recoiled at the idea of him going anywhere dangerous without her. Even if the places would be only dangerous to her.

And then came the third.

The Dawn Court.

A female. From the Dawn Court.

Another.

Vespera could feel it, but tried not to let the jealousy bloom too deeply. But it did stir there. Coiled in the space behind her ribs like a thorny little weed wrapping itself tight around her heart. She forced herself to keep her voice even.

"A bounty?" She asked, brow quirking. "What did she do?" Her gaze narrowed just slightly. Curious. Too curious for Vespera. More importantly, she thought, What's she to you?

It didn't matter. No. NO. No. She tried to force that little ball of jealousy back down like it wasn't already tying knots in her stomach. But her fingers curled in the grass to distract herself. And the bond pulsed again. Warmer. Wilder.

 

[Asher]

"I'm not leaving you behind," Asher said, voice firm, steady. No hesitation. No cracks. He meant it.

But then his eyes locked onto hers, and something colder settled in them, something unmovable. "But we won’t be going anywhere near the Night Court, and that’s my final word on it."

He saw the way her gaze sharpened, the way she bristled just slightly, but he didn’t waver. She didn’t know. Couldn’t know. If she thought the Elderglen had been cruel, if she thought she’d been treated badly there, she had no idea what the Night Court would do to her if they could get their hands on her. And Asher would raze the entire court to the ground before he let that happen.

The bond pulsed between them, humming in the space where words weren’t enough.

And then he felt it—just a flicker at first, a little spark of something sharp and tangled. But it didn’t take long to recognise it for what it was.

Jealousy.

Gods.

His lips twitched, but he smothered the smirk before it could fully form, exhaling through his nose instead. He wouldn’t comment on it. But the bond was another story. The damn thing growled with it.

They were really going to need to work on their emotions. And their mental walls. Right now, they were less walls and more crumbling ruins.

"As for the shadow wielder…" He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, frowning slightly. "Dawn Courtiers are a little unhinged as it is, so whatever it is, it must have been bad for them to be hunting her." He ran a hand through his hair, brow furrowing. "All I know is that her name is Silo… Sillstra? Sillll—something." He scowled, unable to recall.

Probably had something to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’d been drowning himself in when he was first told about her.

"Point is, she’s here somewhere," he said. "I just need to figure out where before someone else finds her first."

He looked back at her, reaching for a grape. "But i'm not worrying about that today.. I think we could both do with a day or two to rest before we go looking for any more drama."

 

[Vespera]

Vespera huffed softly, her nose wrinkling in irritation. But she didn't argue. Not because she enjoyed being told 'no'- gods, she hated it- but because she felt it through the bond. The way his words had settled like stone, anchored, deep, immovable. It wasn't just Ash's own usual brand of stubbornness. It was something different that felt...strange. New. It was protection. Pure, unwavering, iron-clad protection. And something in that bond had curled around it, warm and tense all together. As if it were agreeing with Ash, even if she didn't want to.

So Vess, just sighed and flopped back with an exaggerated groan. "Fine," she mumbled. "No Night court. You have made your point. Loudly. And through every part of you." Of us.

Her fingers fiddled lightly with the hem of her top as her eyes fluttered closed again, basking in the warmth that spread over her skin. The pink on her cheeks was no longer the flush of embarrassment or lust. It was a kiss from the sun that brought forth a few freckles around her nose. The air was humid, a little sticky, the fabric clung to her and felt a little suffocating, but she didn't move yet.

And then came the girl.

Female. Shadow wielder. Fugitive.

Missing.

Also, female.

The jealousy, as he spoke of her name, prickled through her again, sharper than before. But she didn't realize how obvious it was. Didn't realize how it bled from her through the bond like the heat from her skin. She could only scoff at his vague attempts at trying to remember the female's name.

"Silo, really? That's what you're working with?" She teased, her eye cracking open to reveal the amusement flickering there. Gods help Ash if he was going to be searching for a girl called Silo. "What do you plan to do? Wander around the streets at all hours shouting 'Silo girl with shadow magic!' and hope someone responds?"

She let herself chuckle, covering her mouth with the back of her hand as she laughed. "If that is your grand plan, honestly no wonder she's hiding!" Still smiling, she turned her head toward him. The warmth still hadn't left her smile.

"Maybe we think on that one. Maybe we don't chase after unhinged fugitives today." She mused, eyes drifting closed again. "We can find something quiet to do. Something that doesn't end in a fight, or you being punched in the face, or me being pissed off by pretty females acknowledging your existence."

She sighed contentedly. "Could just lay here all day and let the sun bake us into the ground..." And then, more thoughtfully, "I heard there was a seer here who could read palms and tell us our futures..."

 

[Asher]

Asher watched her flop back into the grass, all flailing limbs and stubborn sighs, and something in him softened—helplessly, endlessly. He caught the little wrinkle of her nose as she huffed, and gods, he adored that. Loved the way it crinkled when she was irritated, when she was trying not to pout, when she thought she was being serious but was actually just being impossibly endearing.

The bond pulsed again, steady and warm, and as she muttered her reluctant surrender, he felt it—that subtle thrum, that echo of his own resolve reflected back at him through her. His decision, his line in the sand… it hadn’t just been his. She’d felt it. Accepted it. And it flushed through him like sun-warmed wind, soft and golden and grounding.

His hand drifted over his chest for a moment, over the place the bond tugged most insistently, and he exhaled slowly. “So it wasn’t just me, then,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then, glancing at her sidelong, “Sorry. For.. I didn’t mean to… make it feel like a cage.” He paused. “I just— I need you safe, Vess. That’s all.. Is that alright?"

And then came her teasing, the gentle mockery over the shadow fugitive's name, and her laugh—light and golden and real. He let himself bask in it, even as his expression twisted into something halfway between disbelief and amusement.

“Silo is what I remember,” he groaned, clearly suffering. “Look, I was drunk enough that I nearly tried to fight a bartender who wouldn’t serve me more absinthe. I’m lucky I remember anything.”

He grinned wider as she teased, chuckling low in his throat. “I mean, I could stand on a crate and shout, ‘Silo! Mysterious girl with shadow magic!’ at the top of my lungs. Wouldn’t be the worst plan I’ve ever made.” He gave her a pointed look. “But if she hexes me for it, I’m telling her it was your idea.”

And then her words shifted—something about being pissed off by pretty females acknowledging his existence—and the smirk on his face deepened. Slowly. Purposefully. A dimple carved itself into his cheek.

“And for the record, you make your somewhat adorable yet potentially psychotic jealousy quite clear through every part of you, too…” he drawled, eyes gleaming. He could feel it through the bond, that sharp little thorn-twist of jealousy trying to hide under her calm.

“You realise… this bond, I…” He sat up a little, rubbing at his jaw, like maybe that would help him find the words that had been sitting just behind his teeth for too long.

“I have absolutely no interest in any other females. Nor will I ever have again.” His eyes locked with hers, steady and honest and so painfully sure. “I’m yours, Vess. Whether you want me or not… that isn’t going to change. I’m not looking anywhere else.”

There. It was out now. Bare. Solid. Unflinching.

He let the words linger a moment, heavy in the air, before falling back beside her with a soft exhale. The grass whispered around them, the sky a soft blur of blue above.

“And if you want to just lie here all day and be baked into the earth like a pair of overcooked pies…” he added, voice quieter now, warmer, “I’m perfectly fine with that too.”

He turned his head toward her, his smile smaller now, but truer. So long as he was laying here with her.

 

[Vespera]

Vespera huffed quietly, soft but exaggerated as her lips twitched despite her valiant effort to remain stoic. "I'm not psychotic." She muttered, her words mostly directed at the sky above her and not at him. "Just...expressive?"

Her voice remained calm, light, but her cheeks were definitely warmer now. Probably just a little sunburn. Definitely not whatever felt so undeniably embarrassing about knowing that her every passing thought- her possessiveness, her tension, her fluttering want- had been broadcast so loudly and clearly to the male she had been trying to hide it from.

Still...being called adorable...That wasn't so bad.

"Sorry..." She added after a breath, her tone a little more quiet now. "I didn't realize just how loud my feelings were...I'll try to work on that." She turned her head slightly on the linen, not quiet looking at him, but close. "I don't want to drive you insane."

When Ash swore himself off to anyone else and declared, in no uncertain terms, that he was hers, Vespera's lips parted slightly in surprise. She didn't speak at first. Didn't need to when her body, the slow rise and fall of her chest, and the little pulse of emotion through their bond rippled with gratitude. And fear. And something so dangerously close to longing.

Her eyes shut for a while and she didn't open them even when she reached for him, one hand blindly groping across the blanket until her fingers found his. Her hand curled around his, squeezing gently. It was an anchor, a promise, a little flicker of something she wasn't brave enough to say aloud. And then came the quiet thud of him flopping down beside her.

Her voice was a little softer now, a little sleepy. There was something more vulnerable in her tone when she finally spoke again. "I'm glad it was you." She murmured. "That the bond chose you."

She didn't add in the rest of her feelings. Even if you're stuck with me. Even if I don't deserve the comfort of someone- anyone. Even if he had been hardened in ways she hadn't even seen yet. Her thumb traced idly along the edge of his hand.

The breeze stirred her hair across the grass. Her thumb kept moving over his hand. Soft. Gentle. Steadily slowing until it stilled completely and she snored softly. She could stay here forever. Just like this. Just with him.

 

[Asher]

Asher tilted his head toward her, brow lifting in amused challenge at her quiet little mutter to the sky. “Not psychotic, huh?” he echoed, grinning. He chuckled under his breath, voice warm and fond. “Shame, but sure. We’ll go with that.”

But then she softened. Said sorry. Not for the teasing, not for the heat in her tone earlier, but for the rawness of her feelings bleeding through the bond. He turned toward her more fully at that, the shift in her voice tugging at something deeper inside him. Her eyes weren’t on him, not quite, but she was close. He could feel her sincerity in the little dip of her voice, the slight curl of guilt at the edge of her words.

And gods, it undid him.

“Don’t apologise,” he said gently, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I like it.”

And he did. Every flicker of her jealousy, every spike of possessiveness, every flutter of her emotions that were felt for him—he felt them all, and they weren’t a burden. They were hers. Real, messy, unfiltered Vess. And that was the best thing in the world to him.

His eyes dropped to where her fingers were reaching blindly across the blanket, searching, and a quiet warmth filled his chest. His heart squeezed tight as he watched her hand finally find his. The way her fingers curled around his so naturally, so unthinking. He slid his own fingers between hers, threading them together like it had always been meant to be that way. His thumb brushed gently across the back of her hand, slow and steady.

I'm glad it was you...

The words hit him like a stone in the chest—no, not a stone. A wave. Crushing and slow and full of something he hadn’t let himself feel, ever.

He blinked hard, staring up at the open sky above them for a long second as the ache in his throat crept higher. A knot of emotion sitting too close to his heart. But fuck, it was real. She was real. This was real.

And he didn’t want to run from it.

He didn’t want to run from her.

His head turned slowly, just enough to look at her again. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, her breathing soft and even now as she started to doze. The sun painted her skin in soft gold, and she looked peaceful. Beautiful. Home. Maybe not here, but, beside him..

Asher shifted just enough to lean in, his free hand brushing a stray wisp of her gossamer hair from her cheek. Then he dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her forehead—light and reverent, like a vow.

“I’m glad it was me too…” he whispered against her skin, his voice barely a breath.

And he stayed like that, not daring to move as her thumb slowed its little rhythm across his hand, then stilled completely. She snored, soft and unguarded, and Asher let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

He could’ve stayed there forever. Just like this.

Just with her.

 

[Vespera]

In the quiet embrace of sleep, Vespera's breaths evened out to something slow and peaceful. The sunlight still kissed the side of her face where she lay, half rolled over to face Ash. But her mind drifted elsewhere- somewhere gentle and safe.

The dream began with warmth. Not heat, nor fire, but a warmth like the sun filtering through the Elderglen canopies. She was barefoot with grass beneath her feet, soft and springy, still cool from the morning dew. Wind pulled at her hair as she braided it with flowers blooming- soft white little bell-shaped petals pulsing with magic.

She stood at the edge of the forest, where it met a vast meadow, golden and green and impossibly endless. A single willow tree stretched towards the sky at the meadow's center, its long, curtainlike branches fluttering in the breeze. Beneath it, a small cottage sat nestled into the hill with smoke curling from its chimney.

Laughter rang out, echoing across the field- not mocking or cruel, but warm and familiar. She turned to see Ash standing at the edge of the riverbank nearby, sleeves rolled up over tanned and muscular arms, his breeches soaked up to the knee as he attempted to coax some curious canine from the water. The hound barked joyfully and shook its fur, splattering him with water while Ash cursed under his breath with a big grin on his face.

"You are not helping!" He called to her, though his words were devoid of any frustration.

"You look like you're doing just fine!" She laughed, her voice carrying along the wind.

Vespera walked over to them, each step making the grass bloom in her wake. Tiny white flowers sprouted in her path. Magic flowed through her here, something instinctual and quiet rather than forced or strained. She knelt beside the willow tree and paused to run her fingers over the flowers growing along its base. Frostbells. Dozens of them.

For once, not buried under snow and thriving on hardship. For once, thriving in the sunlight.

She heard footsteps approach, water dripping off of someone, and looked up to see Ash standing over her, water falling from his hair onto her face as he loomed over. His clothes were completely soaked, but he didn't seem to mind. He placed a kiss on her forehead before kneeling beside her, plucking one of the frostbells and tucking it behind her marred ear, brushing her hair back with careful fingers.

"It looks better on you than in the ground," He murmured and her cheeks flushed pink. Vespera leaned into his touch without thinking, without any fear of rejection. There was no bond pulling at them here, just their own choice. Just the quiet knowledge that for once, they were exactly where they were meant to be.

The massive dog barreled past them then, scattering petals and nearly toppling Ash with a bark of delight. And Ash laughed, truly laughed, and pulled her close before they both fell back into the grass. She turned her head to look at him, his white hair glowing in the afternoon light, and for once, there was no tension in his face. No pain. No weight on his shoulders.

His face pulled close to hers, peppering her jaw and neck with kisses before making his way back up to her ear and whispering the sweetest promise she'd ever heard. "This will be real, one day."

And she believed him.

Vespera reached for his hand, lacing her fingers through his just as they were back in the Spring Court, and watched as the meadow around them shimmered, the grass humming with soft magic. The cottage, the river, the sun, and the flowers all pulsed like they were alive. Like it knew her and wanted her to stay in this almost familiar world.

She smiled and closed her eyes again in the dream, tucking herself against his chest as he surrounded her, promising her a life that was too good to be true.

 

[Asher]

Asher lay on his side, the soft rise and fall of Vespera’s breathing his only guide in the stillness. His fingers, roughened by years of hardship, barely skimmed her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw with reverence. Her lashes fluttered slightly against her cheeks, a faint smile ghosting over her lips, and he could feel it—feel her slipping into something peaceful. Something sacred.

His chest ached. Not in the way it once did—sharp with rage or hollow with loneliness. No, this ache was something new. Something whole. It felt like every cracked piece of him had been soldered together with gold, with sunlight, with her. His heart had been ripped wide open and stitched back with something softer, something stronger than he'd ever known.

He shifted slightly, tucking one arm beneath her head, careful not to disturb her. Her hair spilled across his arm like liquid starlight, and he pressed his face into the crown of it for a moment, breathing her in. He let his eyes close, just for a while—not to sleep, not fully—but to be with her. To stay in this moment where the world was kind and still and everything was exactly as it should be.

And then… he felt it. Her dream. Like a song through the bond they shared, like distant bells through fog. Not clear images, not quite, but impressions. The warmth of sunlight through trees. The brush of her hand in his. Her laughter echoing over water. His name, breathed like it meant safety. Like it meant home.

His own breath hitched, and when he blinked his eyes open again, they stung. His cheek was wet. At first he thought it was another tear—he wouldn't have been surprised; he felt unraveled, undone in the best of ways—but then another drop hit, this time on his nose.

He looked up.

Rain.

Soft at first, like a whisper. Then sudden and sure, pouring down from the sky with the kind of wild beauty that felt like it came straight from the gods. Sunlight still pierced the canopy above, casting fractured rainbows through the downpour.

Asher let out a laugh, quiet and startled, joy and disbelief tangled together.

"Vess," he said, gently squeezing her hand, laughter tugging at the edge of his voice. He began to gather their things, throwing everything they'd brought into the centre of the blanket. Rain matted his white hair to his forehead as he reached for her with a grin “Come on!”

He took her hand and tugged her up with him, feet thudding against the damp earth as they ran for the nearest tree. It was a chestnut, old and broad-limbed, its canopy wide enough to shelter them both.

They stopped beneath it, breathless and rain-speckled, and when he looked at her—really looked—he swore he saw the dream reflected back in her eyes.

He brushed wet hair from her cheek, leaned his forehead against hers, and whispered, “One day, Vespera. I swear to you… one day, it will all be real.”

 

[Vespera]

The dream had clung to her like the warmth of the sun-drenched blankets. She had still been in it when the world started to shift. When the little cries from the cottage drifted through the dreamscape- soft and impossibly familiar. She had been smiling in her sleep, barely stirring as she rose to her feet and padded barefoot towards the little home. Her hand had barely reached the door handle.

Then, a drop.

Cold, sharp and startling,

Then another. And another.

The cry faded, replaced by the patter of rain on her cheeks. The soft hum of the dream dissolved into the smell of wet earth, warm rain, and the feel of the blanket and grass slick beneath her hands. Her eyes blinked open just as the first rumble of thunder came from overhead and Ash's voice called her name, warm, alive and real.

Vess. The squeeze of his hand, tugging her gently upward broke her from the haze of sleep.

She stumbled after him as he'd gathered their things, dazed and blinking, only half-awake. She bolted alongside him, feet squelching in the mud, her hand clinging to his. By the time they had reached the shelter under the tree, she was gasping from laughter, rain sliding down her face like tears that didn't come from sadness.

And he made her a promise, just as he had in her dream. One day, Vespera. I swear to you... one day, it will all be real.

Her breath hitched. She didn't respond right away. Her arms slipped from his grip and moved around his waist instead, slow and quiet. She pressed her face into his soaked chest and held onto him tightly, as if she could anchor the memory of that dream before it slipped away completely.

Lightning cracked across the sky above them, illuminating the river through the trees, the edges of the world a glimmering silver.

Her voice was barely above a whisper, muffled against him. "Promise me, please. It was so perfect."

The storm became their world. Thunder rolled like a distant drum with a rhythm slow and steady as the rain fell in sheets around them. Beneath the chestnut tree, she could feel the earth shaking, pulsing. The air had that wild kind of scent that came with magic. And she didn't move from where she had buried herself against Ash's chest. Not at first.

His warmth was the only constant as her teeth chattered, both of them soaked through and shivering slightly. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath over her head, the soft thud of his heart like a tether to something solid and real. She didn't want to lift her head yet.

His promise had taken root in her bones, nestling into the hollow spaces where fear still lingered and doubt tried to bloom. He had felt her dream. He had seen it. And not once had he made her feel foolish for wanting something so impossible.

The cottage. The warmth. The quiet. The little life between them.

 

[Asher]

Gods, no one had ever clung to him like this.

Asher stood still, arms limp for half a heartbeat as the reality of her pressed against him settled in. Her arms around his waist. Her face buried in his chest. The fragile, precious weight of her—like something stolen from a dream too good to be true.

Then everything he’d gathered hit the ground with a dull thud, forgotten, as he wrapped himself around her in return.

He closed his eyes. Let his chin rest lightly atop her head. Let himself feel her.

Rain soaked through his clothes, chilled his skin, but he hardly noticed. His arms tightened, protective, reverent. Like if he held her tightly enough, maybe he could shield her from every storm that ever came their way.

“I promise,” he said again, firmer this time. No hesitation. No fear. Just truth.
One hand rose to cradle the back of her head, fingers weaving into her damp hair. His other arm locked around her waist, pulling her in until there wasn’t a breath of space between them.

And he let himself feel it all.

The way her body trembled slightly. The thunder in his ears, above and within. The way her scent mingled with the smell of rain, of earth, of old trees and river water. The way her whispered plea shattered him in the gentlest possible way.

It was perfect. The dream. The life she wanted. And what staggered him most… was how fiercely he wanted it too. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he wasn’t terrified of that kind of wanting.

He breathed in through his nose, steadying himself, steadying her. Then his temperature began to rise, slow and deliberate. A trick he'd learned in colder climates. He stoked the fiery heat in his blood until it radiated out from him. Until the chill between them began to lift.

“Better?” he murmured into her hair, pressing a tender kiss there, as though it was the most normal, natural thing to do.

 

[Vespera]

Vespera wasn't sure when the shiver in her limbs eased. Maybe it was when the heat of him bled slowly through the soaked fabric between them, seeping into her bones like the sunlight she wished would break through the storm clouds. Maybe it was when he curled around her like she was fragile. Maybe it was the way he said I promise like a vow carved into his soul.

She believed him. Completely.

For the first time in her life, she trusted someone fully. Not because she had no choice or because the bond had forced her to, but because it was him. And something in that quiet realization settled the jagged, wild pieces of her.

She didn't know how long they stood there beneath the old chestnut tree, trapped in an embrace while the rain poured down around them. But eventually, reality caught up and with a sharp breath and a reluctant little laugh, she squeezed him one last time and pulled back just enough to look up at him.

"Ready to run for it?" She wrinkled her nose. And eventually they sprinted hand-in-hand through the downpour, boots splashing through mud and puddles as laughter chased them all the way back to the inn.

---

It hadn't stopped raining for three whole days.

The sky stayed a muted, endless sea of gray. Rain had drummed steadily against the window of their little rented room, turning the streets into slick, glistening rivers and filling the air with that delicious scent of wet stone and moss.

It didn't feel suffocating.

Vespera stretched her legs out a little further towards the fire, the warmth of it kissing over damp skin as she leaned back on her hands, watching Ash with a narrow, suspicious gaze. "You cheated." She accused for the third time that evening, squinting at the worn and slightly lopsided board laid out between them on the floor.

"You absolutely cheated!" she flicked one of her game pieces directly at his chest. "No one wins seven games of runestone in a row unless they're cheating!"

That was how the days had gone. Simple things. Ash had taught her every ridiculous tavern game that he knew, from knucklebones to runestone to card games and dice games that definitely didn't play fair. He'd shown her how to stack cups into a haphazard tower without knocking it over. They had made it a competition to see who could steal more bread from the inn's kitchen without the owner noticing.

Ash was winning, but just barely.

They stayed by the fire. Talking, eating, existing. All comfortably.

Vespera had never known that kind of quiet before. And now, stretched out on her stomach, her damp braid over one shoulder, she looked at him from beneath her lashes, golden eyes thoughtful.

"Something is...different...today." She looked him over. "Do you feel it, too?"

 

[Asher]

Asher was mid-smirk when the little game piece hit his chest and bounced off harmlessly. He feigned a look of utter betrayal, one hand clutching at his heart like she’d mortally wounded him.

“You wound me,” he said solemnly, but the grin that followed betrayed him. “My honour, my reputation, my unmatched skills in tavern warfare—all called into question by a sore loser with terrible aim.”

He picked up the flicked piece and set it gently back in place, then added—just to be difficult—“Eight games, actually. You forgot the warm-up round.”

He dodged the next flick with a laugh, rolling onto his back beside the fire, arms folded beneath his head. The flames crackled quietly nearby, throwing golden light over the ceiling and walls, the gentle hush of rain still pattering against the window like a lullaby they’d grown used to.

Everything had slowed.

He couldn't recall a time when he’d let himself settle into anything, let alone something like this. The rhythm of it. The peace. For once, there was no anger boiling inside of him, no fights to endure or pretence to maintain. Just a pair of soaked wanderers holed up in a crooked-roof inn, playing games and stealing bread. It was comfortable - and it was maddening all at once. Seeing her smile, hearing her laugh? His self restraint was impeccable.

And then she spoke again—something is different today—and the words tugged him back from his contented haze.

He turned his head toward her, eyes meeting hers. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just looked at her. Like he was cataloguing something sacred. Like her question had nudged some deeper part of him.

“…Yeah,” he said finally, voice low. “I feel it.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, gaze softening as he watched her. “It’s quiet, but not the kind that makes you itch, y’know? It’s the kind of quiet that settles in your chest. Makes you wanna breathe deeper..” He gave a small smile. “Makes you feel like maybe you’re not just waiting for the next thing to go wrong.”

His voice dropped further, the flicker of the fire dancing in his eyes.

“Maybe this is what peace feels like..”

 

[Vespera]

Vespera was strangely quiet for a while. She didn't speak. Not at first after mentioning the off feeling about the day. She let the hush of the rain and crackle of the fire fill the silence between them, eyes lowered as her fingers twisted the game piece idly between them. Ash's voice was warm, softer than she had ever been used to, but still edged with a quiet weight that he always carried. And those words he offered to her, words that meant well and reached for that gentle bond between them settled around her like a blanket.

Maybe this is what peace feels like..

Her golden eyes flicked towards him, lingering a heartbeat too long. It ached, how easily he said things like that now. How easily he dreamed aloud.

And how wrong he was.

Her fingers stilled on the edge of the game board, and she let her gaze wander. Not to Ash, but to the shadows dancing against the windowpane. The rain tapped its steady rhythm, soft and predictable, but her skin prickled beneath her wine-red tunic. A subtle whisper of instinct. A sense she had learned not to ignore in the Elderglen whispered to her.

There was something beneath this peace. Something wrong. Not loud. Not screaming at her. Just that feeling. A note slightly out of tune. The kind of quiet that came right before a scream. She didn't know why she felt it now, only that she did.

She sighed, low and thoughtful. Ash looked...content. Peaceful in his own way. A softness behind his eyes that she hadn't seen before. One that she didn't want to ruin. Not when it was so rare. So she leaned to one side and met his gaze, the smile on her lips deepening just a little. The lie was easy on her lips.

"Yeah..." She said softly. "Maybe it is."

She pushed herself up and stood with a stretch, golden hair tumbling down her back. She moved slowly from her place near the fire. Bare feet padded quietly across the wood floor as she stepped toward the window, resting her arms on the windowsill. The rain streaked down the glass in steady rivulets, blurring the Spring village beyond into a blur of grey and green. Clouds still rolled above and mist clung to the streets.

She stood there for a long time. Long enough for the tension in her shoulders to betray the things she didn't say.

"I'm going to go to the kitchen." She said suddenly, over her shoulder. Her tone was too light. Too wound up. "Gonna see if I can bribe the old cook into giving us something sweet." She paused, still not looking quite at him. "You want anything?"

It was routine. Familiar. Increasingly comfortable with every day spent. But behind her voice and the faint smile, her mind was already tracking the edges of the unease curling tight beneath her ribs. She didn't know what was coming, if anything was coming at all. But something in the way the rain kept falling, steady and unrelenting, made her feel like something had been holding its breath for far too long. Waiting to be released.

Still, for now, she let Ash have this moment. Let them both have it. Because it wasn't a lie that she wanted it to be peace. She just wasn't sure they were allowed such a thing just yet.

 

[Asher]

“Surprise me,” he called gently, the familiar reply laced with an easy warmth. It was part of their ritual now, a phrase that somehow meant more each time it passed between them. He gave her a lopsided smile, then turned his gaze back to the fire as her footsteps faded down the hall.

But he didn’t stay seated for long.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, Asher was moving. The ease in his limbs was practiced, purposeful. He grabbed his coat from the hook near the hearth, shaking off the lingering scent of smoke and damp, and pulled it on, and his hood up.

"Be back soon.." he said to the empty room as he left it. pushing the warm sensation of reassurance through the bond he was steadily becoming more and more used to.

Rain still drummed steadily outside, but he didn’t mind. He slipped through the inn’s side entrance and out into the narrow lane, boots splashing through shallow puddles.

The silversmith’s shop was tucked between a weaver’s and an apothecary, marked only by a faded carving of a hammer and anvil above the lintel. The smith here worked in the old ways—delicate work, fae silver, custom commissions.

The little bell above the door jingled softly as he stepped inside.

The smith—a wiry, middle-aged woman with soot-streaked fingers and sharp eyes—looked up from her bench and grunted in recognition. Without a word, she stood and disappeared into the back, returning moments later with a small black velvet box.

“Looks just like the sketch,” she said gruffly, placing it carefully into his outstretched hand.

Asher smiled in agreement, nodded his thanks and placed a few extra coins on the counter. “It’s perfect,” he murmured. He’d been meticulous in the design, from the curvature of the silver to the fine etching of leaf-vine along the edge—like something pulled from the old woods. The cuff was shaped to sit over her damaged ear, moulded to restore the illusion of a fae’s pointed shape.

He slipped the box into the inner pocket of his cloak, close to his chest, then turned back toward the door. The sky outside had darkened to the hue of slate, and the rain hadn’t let up—not for days. Still, the air tasted different now. Charged.

Ash paused beneath the overhang, looking up and down the empty road for a moment before he turned, heading back through the winding village streets, the scent of damp earth sharp in his nose. Back to the fire. Back to her.

Until he heard a startled cry, and a few threatening words. He paused, glancing down the alleyway where he saw three males and a female. Two of the males were backing away, the other, was being held up against a wall by his throat, his feet dangling. It wasn't the female's hands that held him up, however.

It was shadow.

 

[Vespera]

The inn's stairs creaked beneath Vespera's boots as she descended from their room, arms folded tight against her chest to ward off the chill that had begun to creep beneath her skin. The warmth of the fire in their room no longer clung to her and the absence of Ash's presence felt too sharp and immediate. Still, she kept her pace even, her face composed but her heart was thrumming like a warning in her ears.

She should have told him. Said something about the uncanny stills she had been feeling, when something in the air itched like magic trying to whisper. But he'd seemed at peace and she didn't want to disturb that. Instead, she thought to herself as she climbed down. Maybe it really is just in my head... She said it over and over, at least a hundred times.

In the inn's kitchen, she took her time. Much longer than usual. She selected honey breads, a tart glazed in something citrusy, some sugared dates. Her fingers shook as she tucked it all into a cloth bundle, but her face remained still. No one noticed. They never did. She didn't have to sweet talk the cook like she said when she had learned that people preferred to ignore her existence entirely.

She forced a smile as she walked past the uncaring innkeeper and murmured a polite greeting before turning to ascend the stairs again. They seemed longer now, the hallway narrower. Her breath came in shallow by the time she reached the door. It opened slowly, her voice already coming out as she entered. "Ash, I hope you don't mind. I-"

Her words vanished into silence. The room was empty. The fire had dimmed, licking low against half-burned wood. The warmth of it was gone.

The bond between them flared suddenly as if trying to reassure her with a soft pulse of a calming 'I'm okay'. It did not settle her in the slightest. Her panic flared harder, the reassurance brushing off of her like the rain on the window. Her body moved before she could stop it, dropping the food on the table and tearing through the room in search of something- anything- that might explain why he'd left. His jacket was gone, his weapons too.

She turned in a slow circle, breath catching. And then it hit her. Another thrum through the bond that seeped through her and pierced her bones. Something was wrong. She didn't know how she knew. Only that her skin crawled and her pulse was pounding and the magic between them through the bond was twisting as if warning her, reaching for him.

And then she ran. Down the stairs, out the door, not bothering to close anything behind her despite the innkeeper's shout. Her feet carried her through the rain-slick streets, following the tug of the bond. Not with ease, but with raw desperation. It burned like panic and lightning in her blood. She didn't know where he was, but she knew she had to find him.

She turned corner after corner, reaching near the western edge of the village when something dark stirred in her vision. A shape. A sound. A male hanging off the ground. And a shadow curling like tendrils from a small and slim figure just barely out of sight. She froze, breath catching in her lungs when she saw him also watching the scene, but much closer. "Ash?" She whispered, her voice mixing with the storm.

 

[Asher]

Ash had stood there longer than he should have.

Rain beaded down his brow, catching in the strands of his silver hair, but he didn’t move. Not yet. Not as the shadows writhed around the feral-looking woman ahead of him like living extensions of her will. One man was already hanging limply, suspended midair by the throat, twitching with the final remnants of resistance. Another screamed before the darkness snapped around his leg and yanked him down into the muck with a dull crack. The third barely had time to raise a blade before tendrils like ink shot from the alley wall and impaled his arm to it. He collapsed to his knees, choking on blood and rain.

Ash didn’t flinch. Not even once.

Instead, he studied her. Her posture. The graceful economy of movement. Her expression, cold, but not crazed. The shadows didn’t surge or snarl wildly as they did when he lost control. They flowed. Responsive. Deliberate. She was in control of them.

'Ash?'

Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, gentle and sharp all at once. Ash turned fast and crossed the distance in three strides, finding Vespera in the rain. Her golden hair was already slick against her skin, eyes wide and breath ragged. The bond between them hummed like a taut wire, vibrating with panic.

“Hey.” His hands came to her shoulders, grounding her. “Shit. Sorry... I...”

“Are you fucking spying on me?!” The female's bark of fury lanced across the narrow space like lightning.

Ash’s head turned just as the shadow-wielding woman stormed toward them. Her boots splashed in the puddles, her hands clenched into fists, jaw tight with something between rage and exhaustion. The scent of blood clung to her like a cloak.

Ash murmured low to Vespera, “...Think I found Silo.”

He tugged his mate subtly behind him, stepping forward with a calm born of years watching blades swing far too close.

He held up a hand, shook his head, but the female didn’t slow.

“Waiting for your turn? Well. Here I am, you’re next up!”

A rope of shadow lashed out, lightning-fast, aimed at his throat.

 

[Vespera]

Vespera stood frozen, her clothes soaked through with the rain. Every breath came sharp in her throat. Her big golden eyes, normally so quick to judge and defend, were wide now and completely unguarded as she stared past Ash at the woman who moved like death itself.

No, she didn't move. She commanded. The darkness bent to her. Flowed around her like a loyal hound. That kind of magic...of power...it was terrifying. Beautiful. Jealousy curled in Vespera's gut before she could stop it, bitter and bright. But it was quickly washed away by something colder and urgent. Fear.

She didn't respond when Ash grabbed her shoulders, didn't blink at his whispered apologies. Her gaze was fixed, riveted on her.

Silo...whatever her real name was.

He had found her. He was standing so close to the answers he needed. The help he-

And that wild, furious voice cracked like the thunder above. Are you fucking spying on me?!

Vespera winced, her stomach turning as the woman started walking towards them. Fast and deadly. There was no hesitation in the way she moved. Every step was laced with violence barely held in check. And still, Vespera could say, could do nothing. Not until Ash shifted, gently but firmly moving to stand between her and the shadow-wielding goddess of a female.

That did it.

Her mind snapped back into focus like a blade hitting its target. Her feet shifted, breathing broke from that paralyzed rhythm of panic, and her mouth moved before she could think. Could agree with Ash, "Silo..." She breathed, her voice small and nearly drowned out by the downpour. But it was real. "It's...her...."

Ash said something too. Something quiet and careful, but the woman was uncaring as she strode forth with a declaration for them. Well. Here I am, you're next up!

And the shadows moved again. Too fast. So quickly that Vespera didn't see them clearly. One moment, Silo was there, and the next, something dark and cold and wrong surged towards Ash like a living whip aimed straight for his throat.

"ASH!!" Vespera screamed in terror, a sharp, desperate sound that ripped straight from her soul as she tried to reach forward and shove him out of the way- too late. Panic spiked through the bond like a knife and any ability to think rationally fell away.

She didn't think. There was no strategy thought out- not like the ones drilled into her in her years of training. There was no instinct for self-preservation. Just the wild, white hot surge of something primal tearing through her. Before anything could stop her, she moved from behind him, her boots splashing through the muddy water as she launched herself forward. Her heart slammed against her ribs, each thud echoing with panic.

All she could see was the beautiful woman, the shadows, the danger coiling like a serpent around Ash. She barreled towards the shadow-wielder, rage and fear twisting inside her. She barely registered a blur of movement before a cold, brutal force seized her by the front of her soaking tunic. The woman did not hesitate- didn't even flinch- as she pivoted slightly and slammed Vespera face-first into the wet cobblestone with a bone jarring force. The air left her lungs in a strangled gasp as murky water filled her mouth. Blood smeared into the cracks of stone beneath her cheek and from her nose. Pain bloomed sharp and instantly, but worse was the crack of fear roaring through the bond. Shadows coiled around her and held her down. She couldn't even turn to look and see if Ash was alright. She hoped the terror in the bond meant he was at least alive.