The Rift [This Is Where It Ends]
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Morning mist still clung to the trees as the group broke camp. The fire was down to faint embers, and birds called softly from the forest canopy above.
Tarn packed quietly, strapping a short hammer to his belt. Mira was double-checking her satchel of herbs. Seri stood at the edge of the trees, eyes scanning the horizon like a hawk. Cain was sharpening a throwing dagger in long, deliberate strokes.
Asteria stepped into the center of the clearing, rolling his shoulders with a quiet grunt.
> "We leave in twenty. Everyone ready?"
Most nodded without a word.
Except Valron.
He stood near the stream, arms folded, back turned to the group.
> "Valron?" Mira called gently.
> "I heard him," he muttered.
Asteria walked over. "You good?"
Valron turned just slightly—just enough to meet Asteria's eyes.
> "Yeah," he said. "Perfect."
But there was nothing warm in the way he said it.
Asteria held his gaze for a second, then backed off.
---
As the others finished preparing, the tension grew thicker—subtle, but felt.
When Asteria passed Valron the map to inspect the route, Valron didn't take it from his hand. He looked at it, then turned away.
> "You already know the way. You don't need me to agree with it."
Asteria blinked. "It's not about that. I wanted your input."
> "Of course you did," Valron said flatly, still not looking at him. "The great Prime, seeking counsel. Very noble."
Asteria's brow twitched. Mira looked between them with concern but said nothing.
---
Later, as they moved toward the trail, Asteria called out, "Hold formation tight in the narrow bend—we don't know if the outer patrols are still active."
Valron scoffed under his breath.
> "You've been giving orders for weeks now."
Asteria glanced back. "Do you have a problem with that?"
Valron shrugged. "I have a problem with a lot of things."
---
A pause fell over the group again.
Seri looked up sharply, but Cain caught her eye, subtly shaking his head.
Let it play out.
---
Finally, as they reached a flat stone path through the trees, Asteria slowed down to walk beside Valron, trying one more time.
> "Valron. Talk to me. What's going on?"
Valron's jaw clenched. The shadows under his eyes looked darker in the light.
He didn't answer.
Not at first.
Until finally—he stopped walking.
And without turning—
> "Are we really sure this is about her and not about you again?"
The silence that followed wasn't surprise.
It was resignation.
Seri glanced up, brows furrowed.
Cain stopped mid-step.
Asteria looked up at last, calmly.
> "What are you talking about?"
> "Nothing," Valron muttered, turning away. "Forget it."
But no one could.
Not anymore.
---
They had barely made it ten steps along the stream trail when Asteria moved beside him, quiet as the morning wind.
> "Valron," he said, "if I've done something—"
> "You always do something." Valron's tone was laced with heat now. "That's the problem."
> "Then let's talk. Just us."
Without waiting for approval, Asteria motioned, and the two walked off into the deeper woods—beyond the sight of the others.
---
They stopped near a half-fallen tree, moss thick across the bark. Asteria turned, arms relaxed at his sides.
> "Talk to me."
Valron's fists clenched.
> "Why is it always you?" His voice cracked. "Why does everything have to orbit you? Why do they follow you?"
Asteria's eyes narrowed slightly. "I never asked them to."
> "But they do!" Valron shouted, stepping forward. "Ever since we were kids! You were the quiet one. The broken one. The cursed one. But I—I fought for you. I protected you when the village blamed you for the burned fields. I stood in front of you when the stone-throwers came."
Asteria swallowed.
> "I remember."
> "Do you?" Valron's voice shook. "Because it feels like every time I gave something to protect you, you gave nothing back."
> "That's not true."
> "It is."
Valron's breath trembled. His eyes gleamed now—not just with anger, but something else.
> "You want to know what broke me?" he whispered. "Mira. I told you I liked her. I told you that night under the old willow. And what did you do?"
Asteria blinked, genuinely taken aback.
> "Valron—"
> "You took her. And she chose you. Of course she did. You're the Prime."
He spat the word like it was poison.
"Even when you didn't ask to be, you always take what's not yours."
Asteria stepped closer, gentle but firm.
> "I never tried to take anything from you."
Valron's voice dropped lower.
> "Then why does it feel like you did?"
---
And then—the voice returned.
A whisper in the back of Valron's mind. Soft, coaxing, cruel.
> He'll always be above you.
You'll always be beneath his light. In his shadow. Forgotten.
Unless you take it.
Valron gritted his teeth. His body trembled.
Asteria saw it.
> "Valron… what's happening to you?"
> "You always betray me," Valron whispered. "Even now. You stand there, calm. Noble. Like a hero."
> "Because I won't fight you."
> "Then DIE like the coward you are!!"
---
Valron lunged.
Faster than Asteria expected—rage fueling him like wildfire.
Asteria barely sidestepped the first strike, blocking the second with his forearm.
> "Stop—!"
Another flurry of attacks. Sloppy, but powerful.
Asteria remained on defense—dodging, weaving, not striking back.
> "I won't hurt you!"
> "Liar!!" Valron roared, shadows flickering around his fists now—darker than before, darker than anything they'd seen from him.
He attacked again, faster—this time forcing Asteria to backpedal, nearly tripping over the twisted roots of an old tree.
> "You were supposed to be my friend," Valron hissed. "And all you ever did was take."
> "I didn't choose any of this!"
Asteria's voice cracked with frustration.
> "I never wanted the power. I never wanted to be chosen. But I was. And all I've tried to do is make it mean something."
Valron paused.
Just for a second.
And in that pause—Asteria stepped forward.
> "I never stopped being your friend."
But the voice whispered louder now, curling like venom through Valron's thoughts.
> He lies. He pities you. He'll never see you as an equal.
Show him what he created.
And Valron screamed.
Charging again.
---
But this time—
Asteria stood still.
Eyes open.
Chest bare.
Arms lowered.
"If you need to hit me again… do it," Asteria said, standing still, arms down, gaze steady.
Valron's fist trembled—half-raised, rage boiling just behind his eyes. Lightning cracked faintly in the distance, the air still with anticipation.
He stepped forward.
His knuckles tightened.
And just as his fist swung—
A hand caught it.
Tarn.
Calm, unshaking, his other hand braced at his side.
> "That's enough," Tarn said quietly, not in anger, but something firmer—weightier.
Valron's breathing was ragged. His eyes snapped toward Tarn, wild, confused.
> "Let go."
> "Not until you tell us what this is."
Valron didn't answer.
He shook his hand free and stepped back—his stare bouncing between all of them now: Seri, Mira, Cain, Asteria… like they were strangers. Enemies.
And then—
The voice returned.
> "They're all protecting him. Look at their faces. He stumbles—and they rally. You fall—and they watch."
Valron's jaw clenched.
> "You mock me in silence," he whispered.
Cain took a step forward. "What?"
> "They've always favored him. Even Mira."
Valron turned, his bag already slung over his shoulder.
> "This is where our journey ends."
Seri's eyes widened. "Valron, don't do this."
Mira reached out, but he sidestepped.
Asteria moved toward him.
> "Wait. That memory you mentioned—the one about the village… That's not what happened. You were the one who—"
> "Don't!" Valron snapped, voice cracking. "Don't twist it now to sound noble."
Tarn, still standing back where he'd blocked the blow, said nothing—but his shoulder ached. He'd felt the force in that punch.
And he knew:
> If that had landed on Asteria—it wouldn't have just hurt. It would've broken something.
But Tarn didn't say a word.
Valron walked past them.
Didn't look back.
Didn't offer a goodbye.
Asteria stood in silence, watching the space where Valron had vanished between the trees.
> "Something happened to him down there," he said finally, voice low.
> "One of the memories he mentioned… was changed. That's not how it happened."
No one spoke for a while.
The birds had stopped singing.
Even the wind seemed to wait.
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