Fire in the Dark

The forest never slept.

Elara lay restless beneath her cloak, the damp chill of the Wilderwood seeping into her bones. Every rustle in the underbrush set her nerves on edge, every whisper of wind sounded like a threat. Across the stream, Kael sat motionless, sword balanced across his knees, eyes glinting faintly in the starlight.

She watched him when she thought he wouldn’t notice. His stillness unsettled her, as if he belonged to the forest itself. Even his breathing was quiet, steady, controlled. Not a guard on watch, but a predator biding his time.

She turned over, willing herself to sleep, but her mind burned with questions. Who is he? Why does he care whether I live or die? Why does he feel like danger and safety at once?

A crack in the woods answered her with neither.

Kael stiffened instantly. His head snapped toward the sound, hand curling around his hilt. Elara sat up, heart hammering.

“Stay down,” Kael murmured, voice so low she almost missed it.

But she didn’t listen. She strained her ears, hearing it now. The faint shuffle of paws against leaves, the low growl vibrating in the air.

The wolves had returned.

The mist parted as shapes slunk into view. Three this time, larger than the one from before. Their eyes glowed red, unnatural, their teeth bared in silent hunger.

Elara’s hand gripped her knife, though she knew it was useless. Kael rose in one smooth motion, sword flashing silver in the faint moonlight.

“They’re hunting us,” he muttered. His eyes flicked toward her. “If they close in, you run.”

Her chest clenched. “And leave you?”

“Run.” His voice was steel.

The first wolf lunged. Kael met it midair, blade slicing across its throat. It collapsed with a snarl, but the others were faster. One circled left, another right, flanking him.

Kael fought like the forest was an extension of his body. His strikes were fluid, precise, each movement honed to kill. But the wolves were relentless, darting in with fangs snapping.

Elara’s panic rose. She wanted to obey, to flee but her feet refused to move. Every instinct screamed to stay, to fight.

When one wolf lunged past Kael, jaws snapping straight for her, she had no choice.

Her hand flared with silver light.

Moonfire burst forth, blinding in the night. It slammed into the beast mid-leap, engulfing it in searing radiance. The wolf howled once before collapsing in a heap of ash.

Elara gasped, staggering back. The air reeked of scorched fur. Her hands still blazed with ghostly light, silver threads dancing between her fingers.

Kael froze. For a heartbeat, the battle stopped. His eyes locked on her, wide and sharp with something unreadable—shock, recognition… fear.

The final wolf lunged for him in that instant, but Kael recovered swiftly, driving his blade through its chest. The beast crumpled. Silence fell, broken only by Elara’s ragged breathing.

She stared at her hands, horrified. She had never unleashed so much at once, never burned so brightly. The glow pulsed, refusing to dim, betraying her for what she was.

A witch.

Her gaze snapped to Kael. He hadn’t lowered his sword.

“Don’t,” she whispered, voice trembling.

For a long moment, he said nothing. His eyes searched her, cold and piercing. Then, slowly, he lowered the blade but not out of gentleness. Out of decision.

“So it’s true,” he murmured, almost to himself. “The prophecy wasn’t a lie.”

Elara’s stomach dropped. “What—what do you mean?”

He took a step closer, the mist curling around him like shadow. “The moonfire-born. The girl who would shatter the Crown.” His gaze was fierce, unreadable. “It’s you.”

Her heart raced. “No, I never asked for this. I never wanted”

“Want has nothing to do with it.” His voice was low, hard. “Fate doesn’t care what you want.”

Elara backed away, chest heaving. “If you mean to turn me in”

Kael’s expression hardened. “If I meant to turn you in, I wouldn’t have drawn my sword tonight.”

The words struck her like a blow. She stared at him, torn between fear and fragile hope.

“Then why?” she whispered. “Why save me? Twice now?”

Kael’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering with something raw, almost painful. “Because I know what it is to be hunted for what you cannot change.”

The admission stunned her. She opened her mouth to ask, but he turned away, sword sliding back into its sheath with a sharp hiss.

“Get some rest,” he said flatly, though his voice lacked its earlier edge. “We move at dawn. The forest will not give us another night of mercy.”

Elara stood frozen, the silver glow still fading from her hands. She wanted to press him, to demand answers but the look on his face silenced her. His guard was ironclad, but for the first time she glimpsed the cracks beneath.

And in that silence, she realized something terrifying.

Kael knew what she was. And still, he hadn’t left.

The moon climbed higher, casting pale light through the tangled branches. Elara lay awake long after Kael settled back into his silent vigil. Her body trembled with exhaustion, but her mind burned with questions.

The prophecy. The moonfire-born.

Kael’s words echoed through her like a curse. If he spoke truth, then her life was not her own. She was no longer just Elara, the healer’s daughter. She was something far more dangerous.

And yet, when she glanced at Kael across the clearing, she felt the faintest flicker of safety.

Not trust. Not yet. But the beginning of it.

Danger and safety. Shadow and flame.

Two forces bound by something neither of them fully understood.

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