Reluctant Allies

The sound of hooves thudded faintly through the mist, steady and deliberate. Elara’s breath caught in her throat. The Inquisitors were hunting, their hounds likely leading them straight to her trail.

Kael’s eyes hardened. Without another word, he caught her wrist and pulled her deeper into the shadows of the trees.

“Wait—” she hissed, jerking back, but his grip was unyielding.

“Be silent,” he growled, the command sharp enough to cut through her fear. “Do you want them to hear you?”

Elara bit her tongue, anger simmering, but followed as he led her off the faint trail into thicker undergrowth. They moved quickly, Kael navigating the forest as though he had walked its twisted paths a hundred times. His cloak brushed against low branches, his sword still unsheathed, its edge gleaming faintly in the pale light.

Finally, he slowed, guiding her to the hollow beneath a leaning oak. He crouched low, motioning for her to do the same.

They waited.

The hoofbeats grew louder, then slowed. Shadows moved through the mist ahead—three mounted figures in dark cloaks, torches sputtering orange against the silver haze. The insignia of the Crown’s Inquisition gleamed on their breastplates: the sunburst sigil marred by the crimson slash of fire.

Elara’s pulse thundered in her ears.

One rider leaned down, scanning the ground. The hounds sniffed eagerly, tugging against their leashes.

Kael’s hand brushed Elara’s shoulder, a silent warning not to move. She held her breath, body rigid.

The hounds whined, noses pressing to the earth. One barked sharply. The rider’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing toward the trees.

Kael’s grip on his sword tightened.

The Inquisitor dismounted, striding toward the underbrush and straight toward their hiding place. Elara’s heart leapt into her throat. Her fingers itched with moonlight, her instincts screaming to release it.

But Kael shifted slightly, his body angled between her and the threat. His stillness was sharper than any weapon, his presence like a wall of iron.

The Inquisitor paused mere strides away, torchlight flickering over the underbrush. He scanned the shadows, then spat into the dirt. “The trail goes cold here. Move on.”

The hounds strained, whining, but the rider tugged them back. The three mounted up again, turning their horses deeper into the forest.

Elara sagged against the oak, breath escaping in a shaky rush.

Kael didn’t relax until the hoofbeats faded. Then he turned on her, eyes flashing. “You almost gave us away.”

Her head snapped up. “I did nothing!”

“You were ready to burn your gift for all to see,” he hissed, voice low but sharp. “Do you want to draw every Inquisitor within a mile?”

Anger flared hot in her chest. “And what would you have me do? Sit quietly while they slit my throat?”

He leaned closer, his presence overwhelming. “Better a slit throat than a pyre. Do you know what they would do if they saw what you carry? If they realized who you are?”

Elara recoiled. His words cut deep, because he wasn’t wrong. But still “And you? You know too much. Why should I trust you?”

Kael’s jaw tightened. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes (pain), perhaps but it was gone before she could name it. “You shouldn’t.” He turned, sliding his blade back into its sheath. “But you will. If you want to live.”

He started walking, not bothering to see if she followed.

Elara hesitated, torn between fury and fear. Every instinct screamed not to trust him, yet the thought of facing the Wilderwood alone made her blood run cold. The forest was already whispering with unseen voices, shadows moving at the edge of her vision.

She cursed under her breath and hurried after him.

They traveled in silence for hours. The forest thickened, roots rising like twisted ribs from the ground. Strange lights flickered between the branches, too steady to be fireflies, too faint to be torches. Elara shivered beneath her cloak.

Kael moved with purpose, though his expression gave nothing away. His sword hung loose at his side, his hand never straying far from the hilt.

Finally, Elara couldn’t bear the silence. “Why are you here?”

Kael didn’t look at her. “I told you. Fate has bound us.”

“That’s not an answer.”

His mouth curved into something that might have been a bitter smile. “It’s the only one you’ll get for now.”

Frustration burned in her chest. “If you expect me to follow you blindly”

“I expect nothing,” he interrupted, voice cool. “You can turn back if you wish. The Inquisitors will welcome you warmly.”

Elara clenched her fists, resisting the urge to strike him. “You’re insufferable.”

“Better insufferable than dead.”

She glared at his back, wishing she had the courage to demand more. But the truth was, she needed him. He had saved her life twice already, and the forest seemed to bend to his will in a way that unsettled her.

As dusk fell, they stopped near a clearing where a narrow stream trickled between mossy stones. Kael crouched to refill a flask, his movements efficient, precise.

Elara watched him warily, then sank to the ground, exhaustion pulling at her bones. Her satchel dug into her side as she pulled it close, clutching it like a lifeline.

“You should eat,” Kael said without looking at her.

Her stomach growled at the mention, though she hated to admit it. She pulled out a strip of dried bread, nibbling in silence.

After a while, she asked softly, “Do you always speak in riddles?”

This time, he glanced at her. The faintest glimmer of amusement touched his eyes. “Do you always ask questions you’re not ready to hear the answers to?”

Heat rose in her cheeks, though she wasn’t sure if it was anger or something else. “I only ask because I need to know if you plan to kill me in my sleep.”

Kael’s expression darkened. For a moment, silence stretched between them, heavy as stone. Then he said quietly, “If I planned to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

The words sent a chill down her spine. Yet strangely, they didn’t feel like a threat. More like a truth she didn’t fully understand.

Elara pulled her cloak tighter and turned away, staring into the forest shadows. She tried to calm her racing thoughts, but one question echoed relentlessly in her mind.

Who is he, really?

And why, despite every warning screaming in her head, did she feel a pull toward him she couldn’t explain?

That night, as the mist thickened and the forest hummed with unseen life, Elara lay awake by the stream. Kael sat nearby, sword across his lap, eyes scanning the darkness. He seemed carved of stone, unyielding, untouchable.

Yet in the flicker of starlight on his scarred jaw, in the quiet strength of his vigil, Elara felt something stir in her chest. Not trust ~ not yet but the faintest spark of it.

And beneath that, something more dangerous still.

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