Page 62 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

Nerezza hisses, illusions roiling. She flings chaos-laden bolts at us, but our swirling synergy deflects them, though not easily. Sparks rain down, scorching rubble. Each impact jars my limbs, sweat beading on my brow. Sariah clenches her jaw, eyes blazing with unstoppable conviction.

Drayveth’s subordinates retreat, dragging wounded comrades away. Drayveth himself, face twisted with hatred, attempts one last incantation—maybe a necromantic snare. But Sariah, tears streaming from the strain, whirls her staff and unleashes a concentrated arc that blasts him off his feet. He crashes into a toppled column, staff flying. Blood stains the broken stones where he lands. A rasping cough escapes him.

For a moment, our synergy flares bright enough to illuminate the entire courtyard like dawn. Nerezza shields her eyes, illusions faltering. “Impossible,” she snarls, voice trembling with rage. “You can’t surpass me.Iam the first Nyxari.”

“Wrong,” Sariah grits out, trembling with the effort to maintain the synergy. “I’m not a Nyxari, and Kaelith is no thrall. We stand for each other, not for chaos.”

The brood shrinks away, illusions flickering in panic. Sariah’s arcs intensify, and I channel earthen might to reinforce them. The temple courtyard shakes, old columns toppling in a cacophony of stone. Dust plumes swirl like thunderheads. In the confusion, Nerezza curses, illusions swirling around her. She must realize she can’t hold this ground. With one last venomous glare, she unleashes a wave of chaotic illusions that buffets us, then vanishes into the swirling shadows, leaving her brood to scatter. A shriek echoes as she retreats, fury burning in every note.She’ll be back, but for now, we stand victorious.

The dust settles in the courtyard, revealing fallen gargoyles, moaning purna, and toppled columns. My chest heaves, synergy receding as the immediate threat vanishes. Sariah sags against me, brand still throbbing with residual arcs. I hold her, wings curving protectively, heart pounding with relief.We did it—we forced Nerezza to flee.

Drayveth coughs from where he lies crumpled. Blood trickles down his temple, staff lying out of reach. For a heartbeat, I wonder if we should help him or leave him. The brand on her wrist flickers with her kindness. She breaks away from my arms, stepping toward Drayveth.

“Don’t move,” she warns him, voice exhausted but firm. “We don’t want to kill you, but we won’t let you murder us either.”

His eyes burn with resentment. A cough wracks his frame. “So you’ve become the unstoppable duo,” he rasps bitterly. “What now? Will you end me here?”

Sariah shakes her head, tears clinging to her lashes. “No. Enough death. The brood is scattered, Nerezza fled. You can leave, Drayveth. Go warn your coven that we’re not their enemy unless they force us to be.”

He stares at her, fury and grudging respect mingling. “You refuse to yield to illusions, just as he refused me. You’d truly let me walk away?”

She bows her head, brand flickering. “Yes. We have more important battles than punishing you.” Her voice cracks with heartbreak for the mentor she once admired.

A long silence weighs. Drayveth grimaces, dragging himself upright, refusing the staff I nudge toward him. “Very well,” he mutters. “But the coven remains convinced you’re a threat, Sariah. This changes nothing.”

Sariah’s lips press tight. “That’s on them. I won’t beg for mercy while they brand me Nyxari.”

A snort escapes him. “Then we meet as enemies next time.” He casts a final glare at Kaelith, then limps away, beckoning the few purna still conscious to follow. They retreat over the broken temple walls, leaving behind a handful of deceased or gravely injured. Sariah kneels by one wounded purna, guilt twisting her features. But the woman pushes her away with a sneer, refusing help. My heart aches for Sariah’s sorrow, but we must let them go.

When Drayveth’s group vanishes into the twilight, the courtyard falls silent, strewn with rubble, battered columns, and the stench of burnt necromancy. The tether between Sariah and me quiets to a soft hum, our synergy no longer surging in battle. I turn to her, chest aching with everything left unsaid.

She stands, staff trembling, tears on her cheeks. I step closer, wings lowered in submission, tail still. My throat tightens, the need to hold her overwhelming. But I hesitate—her eyes glisten with a swirl of heartbreak, anger, and undisguised love.

She exhales, dropping her staff with a clatter. “Kaelith,” she whispers, voice quivering. “You… you came back.”

I nod, wings twitching. “I’m sorry.” My entire being pulses with regret. “I believed illusions, let my guilt rule me. I never wanted to betray you.”

Tears slip down her cheeks again, but she doesn’t pull away when I lift a cautious hand to brush them aside. My runes glow faintly, longing for the synergy that mended us before. “I was so hurt,” she admits, voice breaking. “Part of me believed you left to join Nerezza willingly.”

My heart twists. “Never,” I whisper hoarsely. “She enthralled me with illusions, convinced me it would spare you from a dark fate. I see now it was a lie. I broke free for you.”

She shudders, brand flaring with a subdued intensity. “We nearly died so many times in the past days. Drayveth all but condemned me, the brood hunted me. And the whole time, I clung to the hope you’d return.”

Emotion surges in my chest.She never stopped believing.Gently, I tilt her chin, letting our gazes lock. “I love you,” I murmur, voice raw. “I love you more than illusions or fear. I’ll spend the rest of my days proving it, if you’ll let me stand by you.”

A tremor passes through her. Then she steps forward, pressing her face against my chest. My arms encircle her, wings folding around us in a shield of comfort. Tears continue down her cheeks, but I sense relief in her trembling sigh. My own eyes sting with moisture as I hold her, the brand on her wrist warming in resonance with my runes.This closeness—no illusion can replicate it.

We stand in the battered ruins, embracing amid the broken pillars and charred stones. The lingering stench of necromancy and gargoyle blood remains, but our synergy hums, forging a cocoon of quiet intimacy. Sariah’s breath hitches. She lifts her head, searching my face for sincerity. I meet her gaze, letting every ounce of my devotion shine through.

A tearful laugh escapes her. “I hate you for leaving,” she whispers, voice thick. “But I love you too much to lose you again.” She curls her fingers into the armor near my collar, pulling me down. Our mouths meet in a trembling kiss, raw with heartbreak, relief, and unstoppable yearning. My chest tightens at the taste of her tears.She forgives me, or at least tries.

When we part, panting, I rest my forehead against hers, savoring the fierce pound of her heart. “I’m never leaving you again,” I vow. “Even if Drayveth hunts us, even if Nerezza conjures illusions to tear my mind apart. I choose you, Sariah.”

She nods, tears still gleaming. “And I choose you. We’ll face them all—coven or brood—together.” A tremulous smile curves her lips. “Bonds tested, but not broken.”

I exhale, the tension in my chest loosening at last.We overcame illusions, heartbreak, condemnation.The brand throbs with a quiet assurance that our synergy stands firm, ready to face any threat. My wings envelop her, as if to block out the entire world. If only we could remain like this, locked in a tender moment. But footsteps in the distance remind me the threat isn’t entirely gone: Drayveth’s survivors may regroup, or the brood might reemerge.

Sariah senses it too. She steps back, eyes still shining with tears. “We should leave,” she murmurs, voice husky. “We can’t stay in these ruins—more gargoyles might return.”

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