Page 54 of Starlit Bargains

Eliar unleashed his power fully for the first time since his fall—a storm of shadow and light that ripped through the village square, sending the Keepers flying backward, shattering windows in nearby buildings, cracking the ancient stones beneath their feet.

Kai had somehow remained standing, his form silhouetted against the maelstrom, dagger held ready as he watched Eliar's back. The easy trust in that stance—the certainty that Eliar would not harm him, even in the midst of unleashing such power—struck Eliar deeply.

“Behind you!” Kai shouted, lunging forward to intercept a Keeper who had managed to circle around during the chaos.

The fight became a blur after that—Eliar directing bursts of energy at those who tried to close in with their ensorcelled weapons, Kai moving in a deadly dance to protect his flank, thetwo of them falling into a seamless rhythm as if they had fought together for years rather than minutes.

Elder Tobias was the last to fall, his weathered face twisted with hatred and fear as Eliar approached. The old man clutched an amulet at his throat, its surface etched with symbols Eliar now recognized as bindings, constraints, dampening spells.

“You don't understand what you're doing,” Tobias gasped, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. “The prophecy—the choice—if you continue to break your bindings, you will tear the veil beyond repair.”

Eliar knelt beside the fallen elder, his power still crackling around him but more controlled now, more focused. “The choice was never meant to be yours,” he said softly. “Nor the Council's. It was always mine to make.”

With gentle precision, he reached out and touched the amulet. It shattered beneath his fingertips, the complex spellwork unraveling as the physical form that anchored it broke apart.

All around the square, similar amulets worn by the other Keepers fractured and crumbled, their power dissolving into motes of light that scattered on the wind. As the last of them faded, Eliar felt something shift within himself—a loosening, a release, as if chains he hadn't known he wore had finally fallen away.

He stood in the sudden silence, breathing hard, magic still simmering beneath his skin. The square was devastated—cobblestones cracked and upheaved, buildings damaged, the Keepers themselves lying unconscious or groaning in pain. Not dead—Eliar had been careful about that, at least—but thoroughly defeated.

Kai approached cautiously, his dagger now sheathed, eyes wide as he took in what remained of the confrontation. “So,” he said, his voice attempting normalcy despite the extraordinarycircumstances, “I'm guessing 'bound and contained' wasn't on your list of preferred living situations?”

The absurd understatement, so quintessentially Kai, broke through the last of Eliar's battle focus. A short, surprised laugh escaped him, quickly stifled but genuine.

“No,” he agreed. “It was not.”

Briar emerged from wherever she had hidden during the conflict, her tiny form darting around the square to assess the damage. “I leave you two alone for five minutes,” she complained, “and you destroy half the village. This is why I can't have nice things.”

“To be fair,” Kai replied, “they started it. With the whole 'we're going to end you' speech and the magical weapons and everything.”

Eliar barely heard their banter, his attention focused inward on the changes within himself. The power he had accessed was settling back into a more manageable state, but it felt different now—more accessible, less constrained.

He was not fully restored—there was still the matter of his original punishment, the fundamental changes his fall had wrought in his nature—but he was more himself than he had been since that distant day. More awake. More alive.

And yet, the corruption remained as well, a dark current flowing beneath the restored light. Perhaps even stronger now, more dangerous with his greater access to his power. The elder's warning echoed in his mind:If you continue to break your bindings, you will tear the veil beyond repair.

“Eliar?” Kai's voice drew him back to the present. His expression was concerned, but not fearful—despite having just witnessed Eliar unleash power that had leveled half a village square. “Are you okay?”

A simple question with a complex answer. Was he okay? He was freer than he had been in centuries, yet still carrying theweight of prophecy and corruption. Stronger, yet perhaps more dangerous. More himself, yet still uncertain of who exactly that self might be after so long living as something less.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. “But I think... I think I will be.”

Kai nodded, accepting the uncertainty in a way few would have. “Good enough for now,” he said, extending a hand. “We should probably get out of here before the rest of the village decides to see what all the commotion was about.”

Eliar looked at the offered hand—such a simple human gesture, such trust after everything that had just happened—and felt something warm unfurl in his chest. Without hesitation, he took it, the contact sending the now-familiar spark between them, gold meeting silver-blue.

But before they could take a step, Kai's grip tightened, holding Eliar in place. The village square had fallen eerily silent in the aftermath of the confrontation, the only sounds the occasional groan from a fallen Keeper or the distant creak of damaged buildings settling. In that strange stillness, Kai stepped closer, his face serious despite the small cut on his cheek that left a trail of blood down to his jaw.

“Hold on,” he said quietly. “Before we go rushing off...”

His amber eyes searched Eliar's, looking past the residual glow of power to something deeper. Eliar found himself unable to look away, caught in that steady gaze that somehow managed to see too much, understand too well.

“You weren't ready to make a choice before,” Kai said, his voice steady despite everything they'd just been through. “But I think you just did.”

The simple observation struck Eliar with unexpected force. He glanced around the square at the fallen Keepers, at the village he had thought was his refuge—his prison, yes, in many ways, but also the place he had called home for centuries—and realizedwith sudden clarity that it had never truly been his home at all. Just a carefully constructed cage, its bars invisible but no less real for their subtlety.

“I didn't choose this confrontation,” Eliar said, though he knew that wasn't what Kai meant.

Kai shook his head slightly. “No. But you chose to fight back. To break the bindings. To reclaim your power.” His voice softened. “To stop running from what you are.”

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