Chapter 11
“Stay close and keep your head down.”
Elara gave a quick nod to Dario, her heart pounding as they slipped from behind the stone wall. The queue had vanished; only the deepening shadows remained as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows across the ground.
They approached the guards briskly, Dario taking the lead with a confident stride. “When's the next shift change?”
“Five minutes, Captain,” one of the guards replied, his voice wobbling as he struggled to sound sober.
“You're relieved. I'll stand watch until the others take over,” Dario responded dismissively, and a chorus of thanks and festive well wishes followed, with several guards mentioning they'd have a drink waiting for him at The Fish whenever he could join them.
After the last of the guards had drifted away, Elara raised an eyebrow at him. “The Fish?”
He flashed a mischievous wink. “It's a den of debauchery. We could always skip the plan and head there instead.” Her expression flatlined, unamused, and he laughed. “Ready?” He gestured toward the shimmering ward.
A knot tightened in Elara's throat, but she managed a determined nod, fingers nervously twisting the ring on her finger. This had better work.
Dario squeezed her hand tightly, just once, as if to reassure them both, before letting go and walking through the barrier.
The air around him came alive, crackling and spitting like it was angry at his intrusion.
He moved through it, and then, with a blast that felt like it split the air, the barrier snapped closed behind him, leaving a ringing silence.
Elara’s heart pounded in her ears. Move dammit.
But she stood frozen. Never in her life had she faced a situation with such potential for disaster.
For too long, Edgar's commands had smothered her, extinguishing any hint of her own desires or choices under the pretense of protection.
But it was a leash. One so delicately placed that she mistook it for safety.
How easily she’d slipped into those chains, convincing herself they were armor against the harshness of the world. Elara’s nails pressed hard into her palms. No more chains.
She was done being someone else’s to command.
The barrier’s electric hum sent jolts through Elara as she breached its shimmering boundary.
Static clung to her, raising goosebumps across her arms as the world around her transformed into a dizzying swirl of blurred colors, flickering lights, and shifting shadows.
Elara bit down on her lip, stifling a gasp as Algernon’s ring burned hot against her skin, the ether that lay within fighting hard to keep her under its veil.
She held her breath, her entire body tensing with anticipation as she took the final step and crossed the threshold to the other side.
A sour taste clawed at the back of her throat, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, swallowing hard.
She waited for the fallout, but no blood-curdling screams pursued her.
No tendrils of ether snaked their way toward her.
Nor did Edgar materialize, seeking retribution.
Instead, everything seemed to stop. The air grew heavy, and the sound of her own breathing echoed in her ears.
Only the distant whinnying of horses from a nearby barn and the soft rustling of leaves drifting to the ground broke the silence.
Her chest tightened. It felt like time itself had paused, a fragile calm, and Elara couldn’t help but wonder if Fate had decided to spare her. If only for now.
She risked a glance at her hand. Algernon’s ring sat innocuously, but the skin around her thumb was marked with a vivid, red burn, as if scorched by intense heat.
She bit her lip to stifle a scream, carefully sliding the ring off her finger.
A sigh of relief escaped her as she felt the pressure lift, though her thumb still throbbed intensely, the skin raw and blistered.
She knew she should wait, but the pain was nearly unbearable.
Perhaps just keeping the ring close would suffice.
Grimacing, she wrapped it in a cloth she had brought and tucked it away in her pocket alongside Godfrey’s note.
“Lost your way, Druid?” Dario’s grin was nothing short of roguish as he leaned down from his horse, extending a hand toward her. “You look like you could use a knight in slightly tarnished armor.”
Elara rolled her eyes before hoisting herself up behind him, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. The coarse fabric of Dario’s tunic bit into her fingers as she gripped him, every muscle in her arms taut.
He guided the steed with an ease that belied the tension in the air, the horse’s steady rhythm kicking up a muted cloud of dust from the worn dirt path.
Their pace was unhurried, as if they were on a leisurely evening ride and not the desperate flight it truly was.
But as the towering ramparts of the castle turned into nothing more than silhouettes against the horizon, Dario’s control snapped.
With a fierce kick, he urged the horse into a wild sprint, the animal’s strength sending chunks of earth flying behind them. The pounding of hooves became the soundtrack of their escape, melding perfectly with his lean into the wind, his body and the horse moving as a single entity.
Ahead, Ansyl City sparkled like a beacon in the night, its lights a promise of refuge. And with every beat of her heart, that promise seemed to grow brighter, drawing them ever closer.
The wind wove its fingers through her hair, setting free every loose strand.
Elara inhaled the night’s chill, letting it fill her with a rush of pure, unbridled joy, so alien yet utterly exhilarating.
She could never run far enough to escape her duties, but maybe now, if she was careful enough, she could carve out a semblance of normalcy while still honoring the weight of her oaths.
She wrapped her arms around Dario, holding onto him as if he were the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control.
The speed at which they moved glued them together, his warmth bleeding into her, calming the wild beat of her heart.
Her voice came out softer than she intended, the raw truth in her words leaving her feeling bare, but she fought against the instinct to recoil. “Did I ever tell you,” she found herself whispering, letting the night carry her words, “just how amazing I think you are?”
Dario flashed her a devious grin. “You could stand to mention it more.”
Laughter burst from Elara, loud and unrestrained—a sound so unfamiliar it startled her.
Her throat hitched, a sharp pang cutting through her chest, as though something inside had cracked open.
She was used to the persistent presence of a muted sorrow, smothering any flicker of joy that dared surface.
The idea of unfiltered happiness felt like a delicate ember, vulnerable to the faintest breeze and always on the verge of being snuffed out.
Dario looked over his shoulder and smiled. “It’s good to hear you laugh, El.”
The warmth in his words danced over her skin, stirring an unexpected chill that ran down her spine. A soft blush tinted her cheeks, and she nestled closer to him, hiding her face.
He laughed, jostling her. And right then, with every inhale of the cool night breeze and the sound of Dario’s laughter mingling with the darkness, she understood that tonight was about more than just finding answers.
She was staking a claim to herself, shouting back at the cosmos to remind it—and, more importantly, herself—that despite everything, she was still strong.
That there was still a spark of joy within her that refused to be snuffed out.
Osin, Edgar, the High Council—they might control so much of her life, but they didn't have all of her—not yet.
She couldn't control the pain inflicted upon her, but she could control her response to it.
The pain was real; the loss was real, but so was the fire inside her.
It might flicker and wane, but it wouldn't go out.
Not as long as she had a say. And despite everything, she still had that—a say—a voice; a part of her that was unbroken.
And there, under the cover of night, she made a vow to herself: she would never let it be forgotten again.