chapter fourty-two #2
Light chatter continues as we all finish our soup, the stars above twinkling like flickering lights through the trees’ canopy.
Someone passes around a waterskin, though it’s definitely not water inside it.
Ronan starts a quiet conversation with Brynn.
Cole argues with Thane and Enzo about the best way to kill a lacwyvern, while Odette insists they’re all idiots, and Sirena quietly and happily finishes off her cinnamon bun.
Darion, Varo, and Edric sit slightly apart from the rest of us, but close enough to listen. They used to be in Kaden’s squad back before our soulbond, which makes sense. They move like people who’ve fought together, survived together. Loyal to each other and wary of everyone else.
They all seem polite enough, though I’ve shared little words with them… other than Eris, who is still giving me mocking smirks across the bonfire.
“Alright.” I say lightly, “We’ve been out here together for hours. Someone has to speak eventually. What do you three do for fun? Other than brood from dark corners.”
Edric snorts first. “Bold, I like it.” He nods, “Edric.”
“Elysia,” I respond with a soft smile.
Varo nods in greeting, quiet but attentive. “Varo.”
Darion gives a short dip of his head. “Darion.”
Edric leans forward, elbows on his knees. “So… Elysia. You’re the fire wielder the Commander mentioned. The new addition?”
“Something like that,” I mutter.
“That explains the attitude,” Edric grins. “Fire wielders and their fury.”
A small chuckle leaves my throat at his observation.
He’s not wrong. Fire wielders are typically more hot-headed than most, and it goes without saying that I haven’t been in a good mood most of the day.
Odette scoots closer, curiosity sharpening her gaze. “Hey, Varo. What’s that you’re wearing?”
The question pulls everyone’s attention.
Varo’s hand lifts automatically, fingers brushing the chain like he’s checking it’s still there.
“It’s… a necklace.” He says, almost shyly. “My daughter made it for me.”
Odette’s face melts instantly. “You have a daughter? How old?”
He clears his throat and smiles fondly. “Two, we had her young. She wasn’t planned, especially not with both of us being warrior mages, but…” His expression warms, quiet and unguarded. “But I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”
“Well, it looks beautiful,” I say, “What’s it made of?”
“The cord is plaited yarn,” he says with a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “My fiancé helped her make it. You can still see the tangles where she kept stealing the yarn and drooling on it.”
A few chuckles ripple through the circle.
Then he lifts the small pendant resting against his chest. “And this… this is a clay heart. She pressed her thumb into it before it dried.” His thumb strokes the tiny dent, “Feels like part of her is right here with me.”
Darion speaks quietly, “She made it for him right before our last deployment.”
“And he hasn’t taken it off since,” Edric adds, grinning. “Sleeps with it, showers with it, polishes it. Treats it like it’s made of gold.”
Varo’s jaw tightens, not with irritation but with emotion he’s fighting to keep steady. “It’s my good luck charm. As long as I wear this… I’ll find my way home to her.”
Ronan lifts his canteen. “Well, shit. That deserves a toast. To Varo making it home.”
“To Varo making it home,” the rest of us echo, raising our canteens and whatever questionable brew Enzo smuggled in that waterskin.
Edric groans dramatically, ruining the tenderness just enough to make everyone laugh. “Look at us all making friends, being sentimental and shit. It’s disgusting.”
Kaden clears his throat, voice snapping us back into duty. “Alright, as much as this has been… lovely. We all need to turn in. We move before dawn, so finish up and get some sleep.”
A unified, “Yes, squad leader,” rolls through the camp as people stand and gather their things, and as everyone begins drifting away, I glance back at Varo, who’s still holding that tiny heart like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the world.
A few minutes pass, and nearly everyone is settled in for the night. Kaden has assigned me to patrol with him for the first two hours. So, I’ve got some time to kill before I can hunker down.
After digging through my satchel, I finally unearth my toothbrush and paste.
If there’s one thing I refuse to compromise on, even out here, it’s my teeth.
I duck behind a half-collapsed wall for a semblance of privacy and go through my nightly routine—brushing, combing my hair, rubbing on antiperspirant.
Small, mundane rituals that make me feel human.
Once I’m done, I step back through the ruins.
The moonlight slips through the shattered stone, catching on something to my right that catches my attention.
I turn, and what’s left of a fireplace stands before me, half buried under rubble.
Charred bricks, broken baskets, the tattered remains of a rug.
Footsteps crunch softly behind me.
I look over my shoulder just as Kaden appears between what used to be a doorway. His gaze sweeps the space, then settles on me.
“Thought I’d lost you,” He murmurs, walking closer and stopping at my side. I glance at him, then gesture gently toward the ruined fireplace.
“Was this the fireplace your mother used to read to you in front of?”
Kaden doesn’t answer right away. His eyes trace the broken stone, and something softens in his face, something almost boyish.
“Yes,” he says quietly. “It was much nicer back then, though.”
My eyes roam over the ruins of his home. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”
His eyes flick to mine, searching… considering. Then he steps a little closer, close enough that his presence settles around me like a cloak.
“I can show you.”
Before I can ask how, his fingers brush mine, and the bond flares to life as the ruins dissolve and change around us until I’m standing in the same room, but whole again. Whole and glowing with life.
I see through eyes that aren’t mine: a child’s eyes, Kaden’s eyes.
Constellation paintings swirl across the walls, glowing faintly in lamplight.
A deep, cosy sofa sits piled with blankets and storybooks in every colour.
A patterned rug softens the floor. Little trinkets shine from shelves, crystals shaped like stars, carved pieces of meteorite, tiny fae figurines with delicate wings.
Warmth fills everything.
And then I see her. Not a clear face, just her presence, voice and gentleness. That unmistakable feeling of being loved.
The vision shimmers, then fades like breath on glass, and I’m back in the ruins, back with him.
I inhale sharply. “Kaden… it was beautiful.”
His eyes are distant, lost somewhere between then and now. “Yeah,” he whispers. “It was.”
Warmth moves through the bond, and a tinge of grief threads through it, though not as sharp as it had been months ago.
He kneels beside me and brushes aside broken stone. “Even like this, even ruined… it comforts me.” His voice roughens. “I haven’t been here in years, seeing some of her things makes me feel her warmth again… even if they’re damaged, it’s still her.”
Something gleams again inside the collapsed fireplace, moonlight reflecting off something buried beneath the rubble.
Kaden’s brow furrows, then his shadows move, delicately and silently slithering beneath the ruins. A moment later, he pulls out a metal box, reminiscent of a jewellery box but much larger. Its surface is dented but intact.
He opens the box with steady fingers, pulling back pale cloth to reveal books… worn, beloved folklore stories, each one clearly read a hundred times.
He stares at it, breath catching. Then a low, disbelieving laugh slips from him. “Of course she’d keep them somewhere safe.”
I crouch beside him, my shoulder brushing his as I peer into the box. The books look fragile, edges curled and worn from hundreds of readings. But they’re here. They survived, just like the memories tied to them.
“These were her favourites,” Kaden murmurs. “She used to read these to me right there.”
He nods toward the collapsed shape of what used to be a sofa.
My chest warms. “Well… now you have a piece of her again. Maybe we can take them home.”
He nods slowly, turning a few of the pages with careful fingers. “Some of these passages…” he says, brow creasing. “They mention the Moonborn. Here… look.”
He holds the book between us, tapping a faded line.
When the Moonborn weep, the rivers swell. When they rage, the seas churn. Their power is drawn not from force, but from feeling and the unseen tides within all living things. A Moonborn who stills her heart stills the storm; one who loses herself to sorrow may drown a kingdom.
I let out a sharp breath. “Great. So my abilities fluctuate with my emotions. Because being a Fire wielder didn’t already come with that delightful disadvantage.”
Kaden huffs a quiet laugh. “Well… I like that you’re a little fiery. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, right?”
I elbow him lightly. “Pretty sure that saying is about betrayal, not emotional instability.”
He shrugs, rising to his feet with the box tucked under one arm. “Same energy. You piss a woman off, you get hurt.”
I push up after him, brushing rubble from my knees. “For someone so wise, you like to anger me an awful lot.”
He glances over, lips tilting. “Maybe I just like seeing you glare at me.”
“That’s concerning.”
His smile grows, soft and gentle, though there’s a vulnerability in it that he doesn’t show anyone else.
We walk back through the ruins together, the bond humming warm and steady, wrapping around us like a warm blanket. When we reach the cart holding our supplies, Kaden sets the metal box inside with surprising care. He lingers there a moment, fingertips resting on the dented lid.
“I never thought I’d get anything of hers back,” he admits quietly. “Not after all these years.”
I step closer, sliding my hand along his. “She’d be happy you found it and glad you kept it.”
Kaden turns toward me, eyes shadowed with the kind of softness that steals my breath. His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, fingers lingering against my cheek.
Then he leans in and presses his mouth to mine. A kiss so gentle it steals the breath straight from my lungs, and for a single, fragile heartbeat, the world holds its breath with us.
And everything feels right.