Page 53 of Starlit Bargains

The words struck Eliar like physical blows. Bound? Contained? All this time, he had believed his diminished state to be the result of his punishment, of his fall from grace. To learn that it had been, at least in part, artificially imposed upon him—that additional chains had been placed upon him without his knowledge—was a revelation both shocking and infuriating.

“Your charge?” he echoed, a dangerous edge entering his voice. “From whom?”

“Those who remained above,” another Keeper spoke, this one keeping their hood in place. “Those who saw the need for guardians on Earth after your kind fell. Someone had to maintain the balance you abandoned.”

Understanding dawned, bitter and cold. “The Celestial Council,” Eliar said. “They did not trust my punishment to be sufficient. They sent watchers.”

“For generations, we have maintained the vigil,” Elder Tobias confirmed. “Our ancestors were chosen, gifted with knowledge and power enough to keep you bound, should you ever begin to wake.” His gaze shifted to Kai. “But they did not foresee the Catalyst. Did not warn us to watch for one whose essence might resonate with yours, whose magic might slowly unravel the bindings we've maintained for centuries.”

Kai's hand had found the hilt of his dagger, though he hadn't drawn it yet. “I'm getting really tired of being talked about like I'm some kind of cosmic mistake,” he said, a forced lightness in his tone that didn't match the tension in his body. “For the record, I was doing just fine minding my own business until all this prophecy nonsense started.”

“The dreams warned us,” a woman's voice called from among the gathered Keepers. Madam Wisteria stepped forward, her sharp eyes fixed on Eliar. “Dreams of falling stars and broken chains. Dreams of what was lost returning. We should have recognized the signs sooner.”

“The dreams...” Eliar murmured, pieces falling into place. The villagers' dreams that Kai had mentioned, the whispers of unrest that had been growing in Mistwood—they weren't random occurrences or simple superstition. They were responses to the slow awakening of his bound power, stirred by Kai's presence.

“The village has always been sensitive to the old magics,” Elder Tobias said. “Our ancestors chose this place for that very reason—to build their settlement over the site of your fall, to harness the ambient energy to maintain your bindings. But now that energy is shifting, responding to the Catalyst's influence. The dreams are but a symptom of a greater awakening.”

As he spoke, the other Keepers had been moving, subtly repositioning themselves to form a loose circle around Eliar andKai. Their movements were coordinated, practiced, as if they had prepared for this confrontation for a very long time.

“I will ask only once,” Eliar said, his voice dropping to a register that carried the weight of his true nature. “Stand aside and let us pass.”

“We cannot do that,” Elder Tobias replied. “The prophecy is clear. If the Guardian's power returns, the choice will come—restoration or destruction. The Council deemed that risk too great to allow. You must remain as you are, Fallen One. Bound. Contained.”

“And if I refuse?”

The elder's expression hardened. “Then we will do what our ancestors were empowered to do, should the need arise. We will end you.”

The threat hung in the air, its implication clear. The Keepers weren't simply village elders maintaining tradition. They were agents of the Celestial Council, imbued with power specifically designed to neutralize a fallen guardian whose bindings were failing.

To neutralize him.

All these centuries, while Eliar had believed his diminished state to be solely the result of his fall, additional constraints had been placed upon him—subtle, insidious bindings maintained without his knowledge by generations of watchers who claimed to serve the greater good.

The realization ignited something within him—a spark of defiance that had lain dormant since his fall.

Before he could respond, however, the attack came. Swift and coordinated, a flash of iron and fire as several Keepers moved at once. They wielded weapons that shouldn't have existed in the mortal realm—curved blades that gleamed with an inner light, staves topped with crystals that pulsed with barely contained energy. Ancient artifacts, Eliar realized, relics from the timebefore his fall, preserved and passed down through generations of watchers.

Kai reacted with impressive speed, his dagger flashing as he parried the first blade that came toward them. “Not to rush you,” he called to Eliar, “but now might be a good time for some of that cosmic guardian power you've been rediscovering!”

The words barely registered as Eliar felt his magic stir within him, responding instinctively to the threat. For so long, it had been suppressed. But with Kai's presence, with their connection, those bindings had begun to weaken. The magic that had responded to Kai, that had flowed between them in moments of connection, had been the first trickles through cracks in a dam that had held for centuries.

Now, faced with direct threat and the revelation of his long manipulation, those cracks widened.

The air around him crackled with raw power as he called forth what lay within. Silver-blue light spilled from his skin, gathering in his palms before lashing out in a wave that sent the nearest Keepers staggering backward.

“This is why we watched you,” one of them snarled, regaining their footing. “Why we kept you bound. The power in you—it's too great, too dangerous to be wielded by one who fell.”

Eliar felt the weight of it all crash down upon him. This was never about helping him maintain balance or protecting the world from potential harm. It was about controlling him, about ensuring that he remained a broken, diminished version of himself—useful perhaps as a guardian of this small corner of the world, but never allowed to be more, to heal, to grow beyond his punishment.

“You're right about one thing,” he said, his voice eerily calm as understanding crystallized within him. “The power in me is great. But you're wrong about why I fell.”

With those words, he reached deeper, past the artificial constraints the Keepers had woven around him over centuries. Into the core of what he truly was—not just a guardian of boundaries, but a being of cosmic energy, of starlight and void and the spaces in between.

Power flooded through him, more than he had accessed in centuries. It felt like standing in the heart of a star, like being unmade and remade in the same moment. The corruption was there too, the darkness that had seeped into his essence during his long exile, but for now, at least, it remained contained, subsumed by the pure energy of his true nature.

“Eliar?” Kai's voice reached him as if from a great distance. “Whatever you're doing, it's working, but maybe dial it back a notch before you bring the whole village down around us?”

The words penetrated the haze of power, grounding him in the present moment. Eliar focused, directing the surge of energy outward at their attackers rather than letting it expand unchecked.

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