Mistwood lay below and to their right, its buildings clustered within protective walls, thin trails of smoke rising from morning cooking fires. To the left stretched rolling hills and meadows, eventually giving way to the distant forests that surrounded Thornhaven. A well-worn path followed the border between village lands and wilderness, exactly as Eliar had described.
They stood at a literal crossroads—one path leading toward the village, one away from it, and one skirting its boundaries.
It felt metaphorical in a way that might have made Kai laugh under different circumstances. Instead, he felt his heart hammering against his ribs as Eliar stopped, staring ahead with his jaw tight, something unreadable in his expression.
“We're clear for the moment,” Briar reported, returning from another scouting flight. “But not for long. Those hounds will pick up our trail again as soon as they reach the forest edge.”
Kai nodded, but his attention was fixed on Eliar, who seemed frozen in place, caught in some internal struggle that played out in the tight lines of his body, the tension in his shoulders.
“You're leaving, aren't you?” Kai said. It wasn't really a question.
Eliar turned to him, something like surprise flickering across his face, quickly replaced by resignation. “I have to.”
“Have to?” Kai repeated. “Or want to?”
“Does it matter?”
“To me? Yeah, it fucking matters.”
Eliar sighed, running a hand through his silver-white hair. “The sanctuary... my research, my books... everything I've collected over centuries that might help us understand what's happening—it's all still there. I can't just abandon it.”
It was a reasonable explanation. Practical, even. But Kai knew it wasn't the whole truth.
“That's not why you're leaving,” he said quietly.
Eliar's gaze dropped, the admission in his silence more telling than any words could have been.
Kai took a deep breath, swallowing down everything screaming inside him—the hurt, the anger, the stubborn desire to shake Eliar until he saw sense. Because Eliar was right about one thing—Kai didn't know what loving him would cost. But he did know this: he was willing to pay it.
“Come with me,” Kai said, softer this time. “To Thornhaven.”
The simple invitation hung in the air between them, heavy with everything it implied. Not just physical travel, but a choice to stay together, to face whatever came next side by side rather than separately.
Eliar exhaled slowly. His expression didn't change, remained carefully controlled. But his eyes—his eyes betrayed him. A flash of longing so intense it was almost painful to witness, quickly buried but not before Kai had seen it clearly.
He wanted to. Against all his carefully constructed arguments, all his centuries of isolation, all his fears of what might happen—Eliar wanted to go with him.
For a long moment, there was only silence. The wind rustled the leaves, the village in the distance hummed with life, and somewhere behind them, the baying of hounds grew gradually clearer.
Then Eliar spoke. “I don't know if I can.”
It wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no either.
And for now, that was enough.
“I'm not asking for forever,” Kai said, risking one step closer. “Just... for now. Until we figure this out. Come to Thornhaven, meet Silas and Thorne. Maybe they can help us understand the prophecy, help us find a way to deal with the corruption.”
Eliar still hesitated, though Kai could see his resistance weakening. “The sanctuary...”
“Will still be there,” Kai finished for him. “You've hidden it for centuries, right? It can stay hidden a little longer.”
Briar, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, finally spoke up. “Not to rush the big romantic decision, but those hounds are getting closer. Whatever we're doing, we need to do it soon.”
She was right. The sounds of pursuit were growing louder, the village patrol closing in on their position.
Eliar looked torn, his gaze shifting between the path that would take them deeper into the forest, back toward his sanctuary, and the one that led toward Thornhaven. Toward Kai.
“Please,” Kai said softly, offering his hand. “Trust me, just this once.”