Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Fugitives of Fate

The trees swallowed the dawn in silence.

Seralyn moved through the thick brush with Kaela half-slumped against her shoulder, each step measured and precise. They had left the ruins of Velcrath behind hours ago, but the tension of the escape clung to her spine like frost.

She could feel the magic tracking them the way the sigil itched, the way birds never sang twice in the same branch, the way Kaela's breath fluttered hot and rapid as she fought unconsciousness.

"We'll stop soon," Seralyn muttered. "Just hold on."

Kaela murmured something she didn't catch.

They found a break in the trees, a narrow clearing overgrown with wild heather and moonblooms. A small, collapsed shrine lay at its center once a temple of the Minor Gods, now forgotten. Cracked stone faces wept moss, and the old prayer bowl was filled with dead leaves.

Seralyn laid Kaela against the pedestal and quickly scanned the perimeter.

No movement. No pursuers. Yet.

She knelt beside Kaela and placed two fingers to her neck.

Pulse faint, but steady.

The spellsteel cuffs had left burns across her skin, and the echo-sick magic from Velcrath hadn't faded. Her lips were dry, and every breath came with a wince.

"Gods," Seralyn muttered, pulling her canteen free. "Here. Drink."

Kaela's eyelids fluttered. "This… feels familiar."

Seralyn blinked. "What?"

Kaela coughed. "You, fussing. Hovering."

"I'm not hovering."

"Then why… do you look like you want to punch death in the throat?"

Seralyn fought a smile. "Because I do."

Kaela chuckled, then groaned. "Don't make me laugh. My ribs hurt."

Seralyn helped her sit up slightly. "I need to check your wound."

Kaela raised an eyebrow. "You just want an excuse to touch me again."

Seralyn flushed, scowling. "You're delirious."

Kaela closed her eyes. "Maybe. Or maybe you care more than you want to admit."

Seralyn began unfastening the torn layers of Kaela's tunic with precise hands.

The wound on her side was raw, ringed with blackened veins. Seralyn frowned.

"That magic was poisoned. You're not healing properly."

Kaela didn't answer.

"Kaela."

Her eyes opened again, glassy. "Did you really mean what you said back there?"

Seralyn didn't look up. "Which part?"

"That you saw the kind of person I really am."

Seralyn paused. Then nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Then why does it still feel like I'm waiting for the blade?"

Seralyn met her gaze. "Because you've never been protected before. Not truly."

Kaela turned her face away.

"I need to draw the poison out," Seralyn said softly. "Hold still."

She summoned a shallow flame in her palm and held it above the wound. The light turned blue, then violet, tracing the cursed veins. Kaela hissed, but didn't flinch.

"What are you using?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Runebless fire. Cleanses dark magic. Hurts like hell."

"Figures. You're good at pain."

"Too good," Seralyn muttered.

As the last tendril of black magic hissed away, Kaela sagged back against the altar.

Seralyn touched the sigil on her wrist. It was brighter now reacting to Kaela's pain, pulsing in time with her.

The bond between them was growing stronger.

And more dangerous.

Later, with a small fire crackling and a meager warding circle set around the clearing, Seralyn sat sharpening her blade. Kaela dozed nearby, finally breathing evenly.

But peace wouldn't last.

The Dominion would send more.

And the Dread Coven wouldn't forget Kaela's escape either.

Seralyn stared into the fire. What now?

They couldn't go back. Couldn't go forward without help. And the Veil Stone fragments weren't going to find themselves.

She rubbed her temples.

Then Kaela stirred.

"I had another dream," she murmured.

Seralyn looked over. "Magic-induced?"

Kaela shook her head. "No. Just… me."

Seralyn waited.

"I saw a road made of bone. A sky with two moons. And you."

Seralyn blinked. "Me?"

"You had wings. Black as obsidian. And you were holding a sword made of flame."

Seralyn swallowed. "What was I doing?"

"Leading an army. But not for the Dominion. Not for elves. For me."

Seralyn stared at her. "That's… not possible."

Kaela smiled faintly. "Tell that to the sky with two moons."

By nightfall, they moved again.

Kaela was stronger, walking on her own now, though her limp betrayed the lingering injury. Seralyn walked close, ever-watchful.

They passed into a marshland choked with mist. The moon hung low, casting everything in silver gloom.

The trees whispered again.

Kaela grabbed Seralyn's arm. "Something's following us."

Seralyn nodded. "I know."

They ran.

The thing behind them followed faster, heavier, scraping against branches.

Then it pounced.

A monster of roots and bone and black eyes. A construct of war magic. Dominion-forged.

Seralyn rolled, slashing. Kaela cast fire from her palms, sending it shrieking.

But it kept coming.

"Go!" Seralyn shouted. "Find high ground!"

"No way!" Kaela snapped. "We fight together."

And they did.

Seralyn's sword lit the air in arcs of gold. Kaela's fire licked the creature's limbs, turning bark into ash.

Finally, with a joint blow blade to chest, flame to head the thing collapsed.

Kaela fell to her knees, panting. "You okay?"

Seralyn nodded. "You?"

Kaela leaned back on her hands. "Better now."

Seralyn sank beside her.

And they sat in the dark, catching breath, side by side.

Their hands brushed.

Neither pulled away.

"I don't know what's ahead," Seralyn whispered.

"Me neither."

"But I'm not letting them take you again."

Kaela smiled. "Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."

The sigils on their skin pulsed once, then flared.