Page 41 of Starlit Bargains

“Your standards for success are alarmingly low,” Eliar said, but there was no bite to his words.

“A necessary adaptation when you spend your life courting catastrophe,” Kai replied cheerfully. “Speaking of which—” he gestured to the celestial markings still faintly glowing on the walls, “—what exactly happened there? One minute I'm touching weird star symbols, the next I'm channeling some kind of copper fire that makes shadow monsters run away screaming.”

Eliar studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “You used magic,” he said finally. “Not just any magic. You activated celestial markings that should only respond to beings like me. The ruins recognized you, Kai.”

“Maybe they were just desperate,” Kai suggested, trying to deflect. “Any port in a shadow-monster storm, right?”

But even as he said it, he could feel the lingering energy still humming in his veins—different from his usual magic, more focused, more... deliberate, somehow. And there was the way Eliar was looking at him, as if he recognized something in Kai that Kai himself couldn't yet see.

“I told you he was in denial,” Briar stage-whispered to Eliar. “He's been like this for years. Weird magic happens, Kai pretends it's perfectly normal, we all move on until the next inexplicable phenomenon.”

“I'm not in denial,” Kai protested. “I'm... selectively accepting reality.”

“Is that what we're calling it now?” Briar asked.

Eliar watched their back-and-forth with growing amusement. “You remind me of the star clusters in the Veil Nebula,” he said suddenly. “Always shifting, always in motion, yet somehow maintaining a perfect balance with each other.”

Both Kai and Briar fell silent, taken aback by the unexpected comparison.

“That's... poetic,” Kai said finally.

“It's accurate,” Eliar replied. “The way you interact, the natural rhythm of your banter—it's like watching celestial bodies in their eternal dance.”

“Are you calling me a celestial body?” Briar preened, fluttering her wings. “Because I accept that compliment.”

“I think he's saying we're like space dust,” Kai told her.

“Luminous space dust,” Eliar corrected, his eyes holding a warmth that hadn't been there before. “Beautiful and chaotic and vital to the fabric of existence.”

Something about the way he said it made Kai's chest feel tight. There was genuine appreciation in Eliar's voice, as if after centuries of isolation, the simple companionship they offered—even with all its chaos and complications—was something he valued deeply.

“Well,” Kai said, uncharacteristically at a loss for words, “that's... I mean, we're not usually described in such flattering terms. 'Menaces' is more common. Or 'walking disaster zones.'”

“Or 'please leave and never return,'” Briar added helpfully.

“All potentially accurate as well,” Eliar acknowledged with a small smile. “But perhaps not the whole truth.”

The conversation lulled into comfortable silence. Outside, the first true light of dawn was breaking over the forest, casting long shadows through the gaps in the ruins. The immediate danger had passed, but Kai knew the respite was temporary. The shadows would return, perhaps with greater numbers or strength. And there were still the questions of the prophecy, of the corrupting influence on Eliar's power, of what role Kai was meant to play in all of this.

“Can I tell you something?” Kai asked abruptly, surprising himself. “Something I've never told anyone, not even Silas?”

Eliar looked up, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Of course.”

Kai took a deep breath. Something about the fallen guardian's presence, the vulnerability he'd shown, created a space where Kai's own truths wanted to emerge.

“I'm afraid of what I don't know about myself,” he said, the words feeling strange in his mouth after being held inside for so long. “About my magic, where it comes from. What I might be capable of.” He stared into the fire, finding it easier than meeting Eliar's gaze.

Briar, uncharacteristically silent, moved to perch on his shoulder—a small gesture of support that didn't go unnoticed.

“Everyone always thought my magic was unpredictable because I was undisciplined or impatient. And maybe that's part of it. But sometimes...” He flexed his fingers, remembering thecopper fire that had flowed through them when he touched the celestial markings. “Sometimes it feels like my magic knows things I don't. Like it's trying to be something else, something more, and I'm the one holding it back because I don't understand it.”

He finally looked up, meeting Eliar's star-filled eyes. “What if there's a reason I can activate those markings, why our magics connect the way they do? What if I'm not just some random witch who stumbled into a prophecy, but something... else? And what if that something else is dangerous?”

The fear that had lurked at the edges of his consciousness for years was finally spoken aloud, hanging in the air between them.

“Oh, Kai,” Briar said softly, her tiny hand pressed against his cheek. “You've been carrying this around all this time?”

“Didn't seem relevant until I started activating ancient celestial runes and fighting shadow monsters,” Kai replied with a weak smile.

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