Page 25 of Starlit Bargains

For the first time in centuries, Eliar felt something other than the hollow emptiness that had been his constant companion. His dormant power stirred, weak but present, responding to Kai's magic with what almost felt like joy.

It was too much. Too sudden. Too raw.

He jerked his hand away, the delicate web of combined magic dissipating instantly. The loss of contact left him feeling strangely bereft, as if something essential had been withdrawn.

“That was...” Kai began, his voice filled with wonder.

“Dangerous,” Eliar cut him off, rising abruptly from the stone. “We shouldn't do that again.”

Kai stood as well, confusion evident in his expression. “But it didn't hurt. It felt... right. Didn't you feel it too?”

Yes, Eliar had felt it. That was precisely the problem. Feeling—any kind of feeling—was dangerous for someone who had spent centuries carefully numbing himself to emotion, to connection, to hope.

“It doesn't matter how it felt,” he said, his voice harsher than intended. “That kind of magical interaction is unpredictable. Unstable. If the Void Feeders were drawn to our accidental connection at the temple, imagine what a deliberate joining of our powers might attract.”

It was a practical concern, not entirely untrue, but not the whole truth either. The real danger, Eliar knew, wasn't what might be drawn to their combined magic—it was what that magic was already doing to him. Awakening things long dormant. Making him want things long denied.

“You're scared,” Kai said quietly, the insight uncomfortably accurate.

“I'm cautious,” Eliar corrected. “Something you might consider trying occasionally.”

Instead of being offended, Kai smiled, that infuriatingly knowing grin that suggested he saw more than Eliar wanted him to. “I'll add it to my list of personal growth goals. Right after 'develop filter between brain and mouth' and 'stop antagonizing powerful magical beings.'”

Despite himself, Eliar felt that strange, rusty sensation again—amusement, warm and unexpected. How long had it been since he'd experienced such a simple, human emotion? Too long to remember.

“You should return to Thornhaven,” he said, trying to regain his composure. “The village is no longer safe for you. The Keepers are watching.”

“So I've noticed,” Kai agreed. “But I'll be back.”

It wasn't a question or a suggestion; it was a simple statement of fact, delivered with absolute certainty. Eliar knew he should argue, should insist that Kai stay away, should end whatever was developing between them before it became unmanageable.

Instead, he found himself asking, “When?”

Kai's smile widened slightly. “Miss me already?”

“I'm merely attempting to prepare for the next disaster you're likely to cause,” Eliar replied dryly.

“Three days,” Kai said, growing more serious. “I need to check in with Silas, do some research, get supplies. Then I'll be back.” He hesitated, then added, “Unless you'd rather I didn't.”

It was an opening, an easy way for Eliar to end this dangerous connection. All he had to do was say yes, he would rather Kai didn't return. But the words wouldn't come.

“Three days,” he echoed instead. “Try not to attract any otherworldly predators in the meantime.”

“No promises,” Kai replied, his grin returning. He took a step back, though his eyes remained fixed on Eliar's face as if trying to memorize it. “Stay safe, star-boy.”

Before Eliar could respond to the ridiculous nickname, Kai turned and began walking back toward the village, Briar emerging from his pocket to flutter anxiously around his head, no doubt questioning his judgment.

Eliar remained by the stream, watching until Kai's figure disappeared among the trees. The lingering warmth of their magical connection still echoed through him, a ghost of sensation that refused to fade.

Eventually, he roused himself from his contemplation. Night had fully claimed the forest, the darkness no impediment to his sight. He moved silently through the trees, his steps instinctively taking him toward Mistwood rather than away from it. He told himself he was merely ensuring Kai made it safely back to the village, but a deeper truth lurked beneath the rationalization—he was reluctant to sever the tenuous thread that still seemed to connect them, even at a distance.

As the lights of the village came into view, Eliar slowed his pace. He rarely ventured this close after dark, preferring the solitude of the forest to the concentrated human presence of even a small settlement like Mistwood. But tonight, something compelled him forward—perhaps concern for Kai, perhaps curiosity about the ripples their magical experiment might have caused.

He skirted the village wall, finding the gap he knew existed on the eastern edge where the stonework had crumbled decades ago and never been properly repaired. From there, he could move undetected through the narrow spaces between buildings, a shadow among shadows, his presence sliding off the awareness of any who might glance his way.

The village was unusually active for this hour. Lanterns burned in windows that would normally be dark. Small clusters of people gathered in doorways and at crossroads, their voices pitched low but urgent. Eliar paused in a narrow alley between the cooper's workshop and a small dwelling, listening to the nearest group—three men and a woman, their faces tense in the dim light of a single lantern.

“...never seen anything like it,” one man was saying, his hands gesturing toward the eastern forest. “The light was blue and gold, like nothing natural.”

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