“Precious.”
The word slithered across the ash, low and honeyed, and both Ethan and Maya spun toward it. Hands unclasped, weapons and will snapping to readiness.
“Who’s there?” Ethan barked, soulfire coiling along his arms like a promise of violence.
Maya drew back a step, silver threads pulsing at her fingertips, the air around her stuttering with fractured light.
The trees to the east whispered—and from them stepped a woman unlike any they had seen. Tall, with skin the color of deep wine, horns curling back from her temples like polished obsidian. Her hair spilled in waves of black silk, her figure wrapped in armor that seemed grown rather than forged, plates shaped like thorns and petals. Her eyes gleamed molten gold, sharp with hunger and amusement.
She smiled. “You are brave. Or perhaps only reckless. Two children, wandering into the ruins, thinking yourselves chosen.”
Her voice was velvet and venom, the cadence pulling at their ears, their bones. Maya’s jaw tightened against it, while Ethan only bristled harder, flame flaring brighter.
“And who are you supposed to be?” he demanded. “Another one of Kaelith’s monsters?”
The demoness laughed—rich, lilting, mocking. “Kaelith is no master of mine. His ambition burns hot, yes, but hot fires burn quickest.” She sauntered closer, each step deliberate, her gaze sliding from Ethan to Maya and back again. “I am Serenya. And unlike that mad general, I see… potential.”
The bond between Ethan and Maya pulsed uneasily, warning heat prickling down their spines.
Maya’s voice was ice. “We’re not interested in whatever you’re offering.”
“Oh, child.” Serenya tilted her head, lips curving. “You should be. You’ve seen already what the humans of Arathen think of you. Their council fears you. Their king toys with you. They summon you, bind you, and yet in their eyes you are weapons, not people.”
Her golden eyes locked on Ethan, sharp as a blade. “But me? I would set you free. I would give you power enough to scorch the king’s chains from your flesh. I would give you vengeance. Don’t you crave that?”
The soulfire flickered dangerously at her words. Ethan grit his teeth, rage and temptation warring in his chest. Maya felt it through the bond and stepped closer, her shoulder brushing his. “Don’t listen,” she hissed. “She’s twisting you.”
Serenya’s laugh was low, knowing. “And you, little time-weaver. How long will you endure? Your magic eats at your body and mind every time you bend the thread. I can see it already—each flicker costs you days, months, years. You’ll burn yourself out before our one True King ever lays a finger on you.”
Maya froze, her eyes widening despite herself. The bond rippled with her fear, her anger. Serenya’s smile deepened.
“I could," Serenya paused, her voice sounding even more tempting. Her voice tickled Maya's soul, but the time-bender ignored it. She let out a gasp before she spoke the next word. "spare you that fate. Teach you to drink from the river of eternity without drowning. Imagine it—time bending at your whim, no limit, no decay.”
The ash felt colder, the silence heavier. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the crackle of Ethan’s flames and the soft hum of Maya’s threads, both poised on the edge of release.
Ethan’s voice was low, strained. “We don’t want your freedom. We don’t want your gifts.”
“Then what do you want?” Serenya asked, leaning forward, her gaze gleaming. “Do you even know? Or are you still children, clinging to a promise of glory that was never yours to begin with?”
The bond flared hot—anger, fear, defiance—mixing so sharply that both Ethan and Maya staggered under it.
And Serenya only smiled, as if every pulse of their bond amused her.
Ethan didn’t wait for another word. The bond snapped tight, fire bursting from his palms as he lunged, soulfire roaring to life.
Serenya laughed, delighted, and raised her hand. The ground beneath her shivered. From the ash and ruin sprang black vines, jagged with thorns, surging up to ensnare him. Ethan tore through them with fire, but the delay let her slip aside, movements liquid and mocking.
“You burn hot,” she purred, “but you burn blind.”
Maya stepped forward, her threads flashing silver. The world stuttered—Serenya’s movement froze mid-step, her smirk suspended in fractured air. Maya struck, lashing with chronomantic force that bent the very space around the demoness.
But Serenya twisted free with an inhuman jerk, snapping time’s hold like it were no more than silk. She grinned, eyes flashing gold. “Delicious. No wonder Kaelith wants you broken.”
Ethan flanked her, flames coiling into a spear. He hurled it, the soulfire screaming as it split the air. Serenya raised a clawed hand, conjuring a shield of shadow. The impact shook the scorched ground, light and darkness colliding in a crack of thunder.
“You see?” she crooned. “They fear you because you are dangerous. You could unmake kingdoms, topple kings. Why waste your fury in their service?”
“Shut up!” Ethan snarled, fire spilling from his arms in a wild cascade.
Maya darted in, weaving through his blaze, her own magic pulsing. She snapped her fingers and for an instant time collapsed—the vines froze, Serenya staggered, her golden eyes narrowing.
Ethan saw the opening. He surged forward, soulfire wreathing his fist, and slammed it into her midsection. The explosion flung Serenya back through the charred skeleton of a farmhouse, debris scattering in a fiery arc.
Smoke rose from her armor, her lips curving in something between pain and pleasure. She stood, brushing ash from her shoulder. “Mmm. Yes. That’s what I wanted to see.”
The bond pulsed erratically between Ethan and Maya—anger, adrenaline, fear—until it felt like they might both burst apart.
Serenya lifted her hand. Black fire coiled, gathering into a seething orb. The very air recoiled from it. “Let’s see how long your bond holds before one of you breaks.” She hurled it.
Ethan grabbed Maya instinctively, twisting them both aside as the blast slammed into the earth, ripping a crater into the scorched field. Shards of stone and soil flew like knives. Maya’s threads shimmered, slowing the spray of debris just enough for them to land clear.
Together, breath ragged, they rose, powers flaring.
Ethan’s flames licked higher than ever before, violet-white fire tracing the edges of his silhouette, his eyes alight. Maya’s threads swirled around her like a constellation, silver strands bending space and time in trembling arcs. They stood side by side, the bond glowing hot and steady.
Serenya tilted her head, watching them with a predator’s fascination. Then, slowly, she smiled. “Yes… precious indeed. You may yet be worthy of him.”
And before either could strike again, she dissolved into shadow, her laughter trailing like smoke across the ruins.
The silence after Serenya vanished was thick, like the air before a storm. Ash drifted around them in lazy spirals, settling into the crater gouged by her last attack.
Ethan’s flames guttered, collapsing back into embers that curled faintly around his fists. His chest heaved, sweat streaking his soot-stained face. “Damn it—” He kicked a charred beam, sending it clattering through the ruin. “We could’ve ended her. We should’ve.”
Maya didn’t answer at once. Her silver threads still shimmered faintly, pulsing in uneven rhythms as if her body struggled to sustain them. She stood with her arms wrapped around herself, staring at the place Serenya had been.
“Ethan,” she whispered finally, voice taut. “She knew.”
He turned, still burning with frustrated energy. “Knew what?”
“That every time I bend time, it takes from me. She said she saw it. She wasn’t lying.” Her eyes lifted to his, raw and trembling. “I thought I was hiding it well enough, but… it’s true. I can feel it. My body—my life—shearing away in slivers.”
Ethan and Maya had promised each other never to go too far again. Ethan was doing his best, his rage giving him bursts of strength from time. Unfortunately, Maya seemed to have no such barrier to unleash her own. Time was a fickle thing. Even if Maya didn't push herself, more and more things were beginning to slip away. More of her life from before they were brought to Aeloria were beginning to disappear. In their place, Ethan and her growing feelings were taking their place. She thought to herself, would I even remember my old life by the time this was all done?
The bond pulsed between them, heavy, jagged with her fear. Ethan clenched his fists, fighting the urge to burn something just to drown it out.
“She was trying to get in your head,” he said, refusing to believe that temptress' words. She was trying to goat them into betraying Arathen. Arathen was not looking out for their best interest but they gave them power. Something stopped Ethan and, by extension, Maya from betraying them one-hundred percent. They were still helping people, weren't they? “That’s all. That’s what demons do.”
“But she wasn’t wrong.” Maya’s voice cracked. “And she knows it.”
Ethan stepped toward her, the bond tugging tight. For a moment, he looked like he might reach out, but the soulfire still flickered on his skin, and he froze. “Then we’ll find a way to stop it,” he said roughly. “Selora, Veylan, the others in the High Magi—someone has to know something. We’re not just going to let you… burn yourself out.”
Maya searched his face, her expression a fragile mix of hope and despair. The bond surged with unspoken things—his fear of losing her, her fear of becoming a burden. Neither dared say it aloud. Instead, she whispered, “And you? Didn’t you feel it? She was right about you too.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “What do you mean?”
“That your fire—your soulfire—it’s tied to anger. To rage. Every time you use it, it takes more from you too. I can feel it, Ethan. Through the bond. It’s… eating you alive.”
He said nothing. Just looked away, fists trembling, the embers on his skin hissing out one by one. Maya stepped closer, ignoring the heat. “If we keep fighting like this, both of us… we’ll burn out before we ever reach the Demon King.”
The bond pulsed, heavy as iron. And for a long moment, in the ruins of a village turned to ash, the two of them stood with their fears laid bare, smoke clinging to their skin like the weight of inevitability.
The silence stretched until it became unbearable. Ethan turned away, his shoulders tight, but Maya didn’t let him retreat into himself. She reached forward, her fingers brushing his scorched arm despite the faint sting of lingering heat.
“Look at me,” she said.
Slowly, he did. His eyes still burned faintly with violet fire, but behind the blaze there was something raw—fear, shame, and a desperate longing he didn’t know how to voice.
“You can’t keep carrying this like it doesn’t matter,” Maya whispered. “Your anger, my threads—it’ll destroy us both. If we keep pushing alone, we’ll lose everything before the Demon King even raises a hand.”
Ethan swallowed hard. He wanted to argue, but the bond betrayed him—her words resonated inside him like truth branded into his bones.
“So what?” he said finally, voice low. “We just stop fighting? Sit and wait until the world burns?”
“No.” Maya’s grip on his arm tightened. “We fight smarter. Together. If I start pushing too far, you pull me back. If your fire burns too hot, I’ll stop you before you tear yourself apart. We watch each other. Always.”
The bond surged with her conviction, wrapping around him like a second heartbeat. Ethan stared at her, the weight of her words sinking into him.
“You’d carry that?” he asked hoarsely. “Carry me, even if it drags you down?”
“I already am,” Maya said. Her voice was soft, but it cut through him sharper than any blade. “And you’re carrying me. That’s what the bond means, Ethan. It’s not just power—it’s us.”
The soulfire dimmed, receding until only faint embers remained. Ethan lifted his hand slowly, uncertain, then pressed his palm against hers. Their bond flared, not with heat or ice this time, but something steadier—an oath without words, sealed in the quiet ruins.
“Then we do it together,” he said. “Always.”
Her lips curved faintly, weary but resolute. “Always.”
The bond pulsed once, like a heartbeat shared between them.
For the first time since Serenya had appeared, the fear loosened its grip. The doubts still lingered, but now they were bound by something stronger—not just the mages’ oath, but their own.
Ethan released a long breath, letting the silence settle around them. Maya leaned into him, her forehead brushing his shoulder, and for that fleeting moment, amid the ashes, they found a fragile peace.
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