A Moment of Reflection and Uncertainly

The stars above the Enchanted Forest shimmered like scattered fragments of light, distant and untouchable. The night was still, the cool breeze carrying the scent of damp earth and blooming flowers.

Mekeala sat outside the elven council hall, her knees drawn to her chest as she gazed up at the sky. She should have been sleeping, but her thoughts wouldn't let her rest.

Maya's words from earlier played over in her mind.

"You should've seen the way he stared at you, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he blinked."

She shook her head. It was just the bind. It had to be.

But that didn't explain the way her chest tightened whenever she thought of Ezekeil watching over her. Or the way her heart beat just a little faster when she remembered the warmth of his arms catching her.

A shadow moved at the edge of her vision.

She turned her head just as Ezekeil sat down beside her, silent as ever.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The quiet between them was oddly comfortable, the weight of exhaustion shared between them both.

After a few moments, Mekeala broke the silence. "Can't sleep either?"

Ezekeil exhaled through his nose. "Too much to think about."

She nodded. "Same."

Another pause. Then, Mekeala hesitated before speaking again. "Maya told me you barely left my side when I was unconscious."

Ezekeil's fingers twitched slightly where they rested against his knee. "She talks too much."

Mekeala huffed a quiet laugh. "She does."

A cool breeze passed between them, rustling the trees. Mekeala bit her lip before asking the question that had been bothering her all night. "Why did you stay?"

Ezekeil's jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer.

Then, his voice—softer than she had ever heard it—broke the silence.

"Because I couldn't lose you."

Mekeala's breath hitched.

She turned her head slightly, catching the way his golden eyes flickered with something unspoken, something raw.

Her heart pounded, but doubt crept in just as quickly. Was it because of her? Or was it just the bind?

She looked away first. "I… I should get some sleep."

Ezekeil nodded but didn't move. "Yeah."

Neither of them made any effort to stand.

---

From a distance, Jack and Maya sat on a ledge, watching the entire exchange.

Jack smirked. "Told you, he's gone for her."

Maya grinned. "She's starting to notice it too."

Jack leaned back on his elbows. "Think we should do something about it?"

Maya shook her head. "Nah. Let them figure it out. It's more fun this way."

Jack laughed. "You're terrible."

---

The next morning, Mekeala barely had time to process her thoughts before the elven council gathered.

Legolas stood at the center, addressing the elves and Mekeala's group. Elrond remained absent, still unconscious, but alive.

"As of now," Legolas announced, "I will take charge of leading the elves until Lord Elrond recovers."

A murmur of agreement rippled through the room. Legolas was respected, but he was different from Elrond—more cautious, less willing to take risks.

"The battle with Cedric weakened our barriers," Lady Arween warned. "We must rebuild our defenses before he regains his strength."

Mekeala listened carefully, but her gut told her something was wrong. Cedric was injured, but a man like him wouldn't sit still for long.

"What do we know of Cedric's condition?" Maya asked.

Legolas's expression darkened. "We have no reports of his whereabouts, but we must assume he is planning his next move."

Mekeala clenched her fists. She could still feel the remnants of Cedric's magic clashing with hers during their last battle. He had been weakened, but not broken.

The meeting ended with preparations set in motion—reinforcing barriers, increasing patrols, preparing for what was to come.

Mekeala exhaled as she stepped outside, rubbing her temple. She hadn't realized how exhausted she was.

She wasn't alone for long.

Ezekeil stood nearby, his arms crossed as he leaned against a tree.

Mekeala slowed her steps as she approached him. She didn't know why.

The silence between them stretched, but this time, it wasn't comfortable.

Finally, Ezekeil spoke. "You're thinking too much."

Mekeala scoffed. "You're one to talk."

A small, rare smile tugged at his lips. It was gone in a second.

Mekeala shifted, feeling something unfamiliar settle in her chest. This thing between them—it was changing.

She looked away before she could think too hard about it.

But then—a scout came running toward them, breathless.

"There's something you need to see," he gasped.

Mekeala's stomach twisted.

Whatever peace they had found was already slipping away.

---

Far from the Enchanted Forest, Cedric stood in his stronghold, staring at the empty ritual altar.

His fingers curled into fists. He could still feel Mekeala's power.

It was Grace's power.

And it had nearly taken half of his life force.

The magic still pulsed within him, clashing against his own like a sickness that refused to fade.

His jaw clenched. He should have won that battle.

He had spent years preparing for this, years building his army, years waiting for the moment he could seize the divine magic he had sought for so long.

And Mekeala had nearly destroyed him.

But if there was one thing Cedric did better than anyone—it was adapting.

A shadowy figure knelt before him.

"Gather my elite forces," Cedric commanded. "If I cannot take the divine magic now, then I will take from her the things she holds dear."

His lips curled into a slow, menacing smile.

"If she won't break, then I will break the world around her."