Page 56 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

My chest wrenches.A shred of kindness from an unexpected source.But it’s too late. The idea of rejoining them is impossible, and my heartbreak is too raw to accept pity. I shake my head, voice trembling. “You can’t fix this,” I whisper. “My partner—my gargoyle—left. Drayveth demands I seal him. I refuse.” Tears threaten again. “Now I’m alone with no path.”

The woman glances around, as if expecting an ambush. “You’re never alone if you keep faith in your power,” she murmurs, an echo of old coven teachings. Then she reaches into her satchel, pulling out a small parcel. “Dried food, a water canteen, and some bandages. Take them. I can’t do more, or Drayveth will brand me a traitor too. But I won’t let you starve.”

A fresh sob wells in my throat.Why does this unexpected kindness cut deeper than Drayveth’s condemnation?“Thank you,” I manage. My hands shake as I accept the bundle, tears splashing onto the worn cloth. “I… I don’t even know your name.”

She smiles sadly. “Amille. We trained together once or twice, though you might not remember. You were always gifted with wards.”

A faint memory stirs—Amille, a quiet novice in one of my classes.I never paid her much attention.My chest constricts with guilt. “Amille,” I repeat, bowing my head. “Why are you doing this?”

She shrugs, eyes glistening. “Sometimes fear drives us to cruelty, but I can’t watch my coven destroy another innocent. I hope you find your gargoyle, if that’s truly what you want.” She steps back, tears in her own eyes. “Drayveth is determined, though. If he sees you again, he’ll carry out the High Circle’s will.”

I exhale shakily, cradling the parcel to my chest. “I understand.” My brand throbs, reminding me that each step I take away from the coven solidifies my outcast status. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

She nods, tears shining, then hurries away before either of us can break down further. Her footsteps fade into the rocky distance, leaving me again alone, but this time with a small measure of hope.Not all purna want me dead.

I slump back onto the nearest rock, hugging the bundle of supplies. The dryness in my throat intensifies. My chest still tightens at the thought of Kaelith absent.He left me. Or Nerezza took him.Despair encroaches once more.What do I do now?

Memories swirl: Kaelith’s molten eyes, the synergy we invoked to save each other, the trembling confessions of love.Could that all vanish so swiftly?My brand stings with longing.He can’t truly have betrayed me. He must have believed he was protecting me.

Tears stream again, hot and unrelenting.Even if he thought it best, the ache of his absence won’t fade.Drayveth’s offer replays in my mind—help seal both gargoyles—and for a terrible instant, I nearly succumb to the easy path.Betray Kaelith. Return to the coven. Survive.But the thought makes me nauseous.I can’t. I love him, even if he left me behind.

The wind picks up, rustling dried shrubs in the ravine. Shudders of grief wrack my shoulders. I grip the staff, letting the brand’s persistent burn anchor me. This must be my darkest moment: alone, cut off from the man I love, no coven to rely on, hunted as a would-be Nyxari. My mind circles the hopelessness until a calm, small voice breaks through:He saved you so many times. You can’t abandon him now.

Yes. I sniff, wiping tears on my torn cloak.Even if Kaelith joined Nerezza or was dragged away, I owe it to him to try. We planned to reach Snowfall Glen, gather allies. Maybe I can do that alone, or with new allies, then find a way to free Kaelith from her illusions.My heart clenches at the idea.It’s insane, suicidal, but better than cowering or betraying him.

“I won’t turn him to stone or kill him,” I whisper, voice hoarse. “I refuse.” The wind howls, as if in agreement. I drag a shaky breath.I might be at my lowest point, but I won’t give up.

My brand pulses, a subdued rhythm matching my battered heartbeat.That synergy remains, a testament to the bond we forged.If Kaelith truly walked away to shield me from illusions, then perhaps I can repay that sacrifice by prying him free from Nerezza’s manipulations.I owe him that.

Steeling myself, I force my trembling legs to stand. The world spins for a moment, tears still itching my eyes, but I remain upright, heart pounding with a fierce vow. “I’ll keep going,” I tell the empty ravine. “Even if he betrayed me, I’ll find him. Even if the coven hunts me, I’ll survive. I am no Nyxari.”

The vow stirs a kernel of strength in my chest, quelling the swirling despair.Drayveth can label me as he pleases. My path is set: reach Snowfall Glen, gather resources, and if I must, march into Nerezza’s stronghold to tear Kaelith from her illusions.The thought terrifies me, but it’s better than surrendering to hopelessness.Better than letting heartbreak consume me.

Clutching Amille’s bundle, I rummage for the water canteen. My lips are cracked from tears and dehydration. I gulp the stale water, each swallow a small lifeline. Then I nibble a piece of dried fruit, forcing my appetite to obey. My brand throbs less, as if the physical nourishment bolsters my resolve.I’ll need strength for what’s to come.

Once I’ve steadied my breath, I gather my battered cloak around me, staff in hand, and set off down the slope. The entire mountain range yawns before me, silent witness to my solitary path. My feet ache, shoulders scream in protest, but I can’t stop.Kaelith might be in grave danger, or Nerezza’s illusions might have convinced him to remain by her side.The possibilities swirl, but none of them absolve me from trying to help.

Hours stretch into endless trudging. The sun arcs overhead, beating down on the exposed ridges. I scale rocky inclines, slip down scree slopes, all the while scanning for twisted gargoyle shapes overhead. None appear, though the sense of being watched lingers. My staff grows heavy, my brand scalding.I keep going.My heartbreak simmers just below the surface, fueling my determination to prove Drayveth wrong.He thinks me broken or lost. I’m not. Not yet.

As the day wanes, the sky overhead bleeds into gold and pink. My limbs drag, each step a monumental effort. My tears have dried, leaving a hollow ache behind my eyes. Kaelith’s absence gnaws like an open wound. Yet I cling to the spark of defiance that flared when Drayveth demanded I seal both gargoyles.I can’t. I won’t.

Finally, I reach a broad plateau where the air is cooler, the wind biting. Pine trees stand scattered, clinging to the rocky soil. The faint scent of resin comforts me in a way I can’t explain.Nature’s calm.Searching for shelter, I spot a cluster of boulders forming a partial windbreak. My knees quake with exhaustion.I must rest.

I limp toward that nook, dropping onto the ground with a weary sigh. The brand throbs in the hush, a constant reminder that the synergy I once shared is incomplete. My mind conjures the memory of Kaelith’s molten eyes. My chest twists with renewed longing and anger.He left me.Or he was forced. The ambiguity crushes me. But anger sparks again, fueling a vow not to yield to despair.I’ll find him. One way or another.

Drayveth’s final words echo:We brand you Nyxari.Let them come.If I’m strong enough to stand against Nerezza, perhaps I’m strong enough to face the coven’s condemnation.I’ll be unstoppable if I harness my power responsibly,not letting it tip into chaos.

Night falls swiftly over the mountains, the temperature plunging. I wrap my cloak tight, teeth chattering. My body begs for warmth and food, but my meager rations from Amille are nearly spent. Perhaps I’ll scavenge in the morning. Or perhaps I’ll starve, alone on this path. The thought sends a pang of bitterness swirling with heartbreak.No. I’ll survive. For Kaelith.

Tears threaten again, but I push them down, inhaling the crisp air. The brand’s steady ache pulses in time with my heartbeat, a lonely echo.I wonder if Kaelith still senses it, wherever he is.My mind conjures a vision of him, trapped in illusions, thinking he’s saving me. I bury my face in my knees, stifling another sob.I need to be strong.

“Sariah,” I whisper to the empty night, mocking my own name. “You can’t break now. Rest, gather strength, keep going.” It feels pitiful to recite self-assurances, but the alternative is drowning in despair.

Eventually, I manage to doze off, curled in the hollow of rocks, staff clutched to my chest. Dreams assault me: nightmares of Kaelith kneeling before Nerezza, illusions swirling as he proclaims his loyalty to her. I see him turn to stone willingly, or watch him and Nerezza forging monstrous gargoyles that rampage across the land. I toss and turn, whimpering, brand throbbing like an infected wound.

At some point, I jolt awake, heart pounding. The moon is high, silver beams illuminating the rocky clearing. My tears glisten anew.A dream.But it could be real if I can’t intervene. My body quakes with cold and sorrow. I bury my face against my folded arms.I’m not sure how much more heartbreak I can take.

Yet in the hush, the faintest shred of defiance remains.Kaelith saved me from giving up so many times. This time, it’s my turn.Even if he no longer stands at my side, I cling to the love we shared, trusting it wasn’t a lie.That love can guide me, a shield against Nerezza’s illusions.If Drayveth or the coven tries to brand me Nyxari, so am I. I’d rather stand alone for the right reasons than grovel for false acceptance.

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