Chapter Eighty-One
ELYSSARA
Kael and I trail Tvira who walks with the grace of a honed warrior. Her hair ripples elegantly down her back with the sway of her hips, and it glints with the light of the mossy walls.
We walk in silence, but Kael’s smooth, low tone rumbles down the tether, I’ve got you, El. No matter what.
I know, I reply swiftly. It’s just so much to process.
We’ll figure it out, he pauses for a heartbeat, together.
Together, I affirm.
Tvira’s steps slow as we approach a small cavern with the flickering light of a fire greeting us at the entrance.
Tvira slams her spear down, as if this is how the Cindrali announce themselves. “Nehvara,” she calls into the cavern, the smell of sweet smoke and herbs drifting out to us in the halls. “The Zhari walks among us once more,” Tvira declares with gravitas.
I exchange a look with Kael, whose hand has not left the hilt of the blade sheathed at this side since we arrived, and he shrugs as if to say ‘I have absolutely no fucking idea what’s happening.’
I sense movement inside, and after a few heartbeats, an older woman with the same skin of deep bronze and ink-black hair—though it's speckled with gray from age—appears at the entrance. “You may leave us,” she says to Tvira assertively, though not unkindly, and Tvira simply nods and walks away. The older woman with creased skin around her eyes and deep set grooves in her cheeks from decades of smiling, edges toward us. She drags her gaze across our faces, in a curious, intrigued manner, eyes loaded with meaning. Something about her presence is disarming, because Kael’s hand falls to his side, obviously put at ease by her warm, grounding nature.
“The Lightborne is here,” she greets us warmly, her rich brown eyes lingering on my face wearing an expression akin to awe or maybe even relief.
She tightens the woolen wrap around her shoulders, squeezing it to her chest, “Come in, please. I’ve been waiting for you.”
We enter what appears to be her living quarters—an inviting rug with blankets layered on the floor for cushions are placed around a low-burning fire.
It’s simple, but somehow, it feels homely.
She gestures for us to take a seat, her warm brown hands enveloping my own, thumbs brushing my knuckles, and squeezes them with tenderness.
The woman—Nehvara—moves to a smooth surface carved from the stone itself, and gathers drinking mugs that appear well-used, and brings them over.
“I’ll pour us some tea,” she says gently, gesturing to the old kettle hanging above the fire.
“It helps to calm the nerves.” She looks at us with a knowing smile, apparently aware of my apprehension.
“That sounds lovely,” I reply in a whisper.
Nehvara passes me a mug the color of clay, “Drink deeply, dear. You look like you need it.”
She looks to Kael, gaze assessing, and says, “I know you don’t think you need it, but you’re wrong.” Her knowing smile meets her eyes, and Kael takes a long sip from his mug.
We sit in awkward silence for a while, and I start fidgeting with the edge of my leather armor, desperate for something to do with my hands.
I wait, trying to allow space for the woman to share why it was so imperative we came straight here.
But my patience snaps—I let out an impatient huff and say, “We’re here bec—”
“I know why you’re here, Lightborne,” Nehvara cuts me off. “And we’ll get to that,” she says slowly and deliberately. We settle back into silence, though I’m on edge. Why am I here if she won’t talk to me?
Kael looks perfectly comfortable, sipping his tea and allowing the fire to warm his bones.
“How long has the tether been active?” Nehvara asks with curiosity, looking between us.
Kael and I share a brief look, before I turn back to Nehvara. I know exactly what she means. “About two weeks, I believe.” Since the moment I heard his voice in my head when I thought he was dying.
“The first time I saw her,” Kael says. I whip my gaze to him in surprise, but he’s staring at Nehvara.
“The Sky called her home,” Nehvara murmurs softly to herself, eyes closed, “and she listened.”
She pries her eyes open, gaze landing on me.
“The Lightborne and Sky must tread as one,” Nehvara recites in an eerie tone, and I swear that just for a moment, the fire dims, casting Kael’s face in flickering shadow—half-light, half-dark.
Her voice drops low, seriousness etching her features.
“The threads between you were spun in starlight long before your first breaths. But a tether is only a tether when it is chosen.”
“We didn’t choose this—it just happened,” I countered, confusion rippling through me.
“The tether is not woven yet, dear. What you’re experiencing now is simply an invitation,” Nehvara says flippantly and I have no idea what she means.
“An invitation to what?” Kael demands, leaning into Nehvara’s words.
“Into your Starbound Tether,” she says simply.
What in the fucking Stars?
I look to Kael, then back to Nehvara, bewildered.
“The Starbound Tether is a rare fated connection between two souls. I can feel it between you,” she closes her eyes, placing her hand over her heart, and inhales the rich herbs and spices from her tea. “I can see it, too.”
The invitation Nehvara spoke of, it hums in the space between us now. Waiting to be answered. Or rejected.
“You can see what?” I ask. “Can Seren see it?” If Seren can see the unseen, maybe she knows whatever Nehvara does, too.
“I can see the golden threads that connect you. Mind to mind. Belly to belly. It’s why you can feel each other's emotions, hear each other's thoughts,” she makes it all sound so simple. “There is only one missing—that’s how I know you have not yet chosen.”
I can barely breathe, my chest rises and falls too quickly. “Your hearts,” Nehvara says.
Kael doesn’t speak, but his fingers graze mine, tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. A tether not yet chosen, but there all the same.
“You have not chosen to give your hearts to one another. When you choose this, you will be Starbound for eternity. Always connected. Unbreakable. Always aware of the other’s presence, feelings, thoughts. Bound,” she says the last word with finality.
“What happens if we don’t choose it?” I ask cautiously. “If we don’t give our hearts to each other?” I can barely hear my own voice—blood rushes through my body, pulsing in my ears.
“Then the tethers will fray, and the bond will be lost,” she says, and my stomach knots with dread. I can’t lose him. “And you will defy the prophecy, of course.”
“How do you know this?” I demand. “Who are you? What are you?” My words come out like a rasp, scratching my throat on the way out.
“I’m a Cindrali Seer—I hold wisdom in one hand and foresight in the other,” Nehvara’s face is still laced with warmth and tenderness as she speaks, as if she draws no pleasure from seeing me spiral uncontrollably.
Even so, I can’t stop the way my breath rushes in and out of me, panic settling into my bones.
This is all too much. Too much pressure, too much at stake.
“What else do you know?” I ask, unable to let my curiosity relent.
She turns to Kael, eyes penetrating, as if unfurling his soul right here, “I think the question is—what does he know?”
Kael winces, visibly flinching under the weight of her gaze, but remains silent and stoic.
“What did the winds sing to you, Sky?” Nehvara presses.
I will protect Elyssara at all costs. I remember the truths the winds sang to Kael. I remember the way his devotion to my safety made the walls around my heart submit to him. I remember.
Kael closes his eyes, tips his head back and exhales deeply, as if steeling himself for whatever comes next. “The winds told me that I would need to destroy Elyssara,” he pauses, hesitating on the words unspoken, and I think my chest might cave in. “Or she’d remake the world.”
The world around me blurs, and my breathing turns ragged and frantic as truths collide.
“What?” I pant, unable to reconcile what I’m hearing. A silent scream tears through my mind. The words echo in the marrow of my bones. Destroy me?
Kael turns to me, grabbing my hands in his, “Look at me, El. Look at me,” he commands, voice a desperate plea.
Tears roll freely down my cheeks, and I try to pull my hands from Kael’s, but his grip is unwavering.
“I don’t care what is written in the Stars, Elyssara,” his voice thick with emotion.
“I will tear down every star in the fucking sky. I will defy them every day for the rest of my life if it means never hurting you.” I lift my gaze to his, chest heaving in devastation, “I will rewrite the Stars with my bare hands because I will never destroy you. I will never hurt you. You are mine, from now until the Stars claim me.” His voice is conviction incarnate and an ember stays alight in my heart.
A sob tumbles out of me—I can’t bear it.
I can’t take the ache in my chest. I scream.
I scream for the walls that he has torn from my heart, that threaten to rebuild.
I scream for the lies intended to protect me, that annihilate me later.
I scream for everything I feel for this man, that is too much for my wounded heart to hold.
Kael squeezes my hands, desperately trying to keep me tethered here—to this moment, this place, him. I still, for just a heartbeat, locking eyes with the man who can cut me deeper than any blade.
The scream dies in my throat, the firelight flickering through the veil of my tears. And in the quiet that follows, his voice finds me.
Soft. Broken. Undeniable.
“I love you, Elyssara. I think I’ve always loved you, even before I knew it. And I will never stop.” The words are a vow. A promise. An answer to an invitation. An anchor in the middle of a storm.
I whimper, crumbling into his arms like a child’s doll.
Sobs wrack my body, purging my pain, my heartache.
Because despite myself, Kael is The Sky, and I know home is in his arms.