Her breath caught.
“There is no need for ceremony,” he murmured. “Pray from here...”
His touch lingered a heartbeat longer, then his hand dropped - only to slide into her hair, cradling the back of her head. “And they’ll hear every word.”
She leaned into him instinctively, drawn to the warmth, the certainty in his breath against her cheek. But before she could lose herself in him entirely, he gently pulled back.
“Now,” he said softly, his fingers combing through her hair gently before his hand returned to his side. “I’ll leave you in peace.”
Her eyes followed him, unwilling. The distance between them felt suddenly vast, and the cool breeze was quick to wrap around her.
“If you want to do this like a Hazier,” he added, his voice dipping, “you’ll have to do it alone.”
Her brows lifted.
A grin played at the corner of his mouth as he retrieved his ax, fashioning it back to his side. “We’d meditate alone for a full day before any major life passage. To receive clarity. To offer devotion. It’s important that you are not disturbed or distracted, so the gods can send you their messages and blessings.”
Her lips parted, breath catching at the image of him that instantly came to mind - alone, still, silent beneath a foreign sky. She wanted to see that version of him. She wanted to know that part of him.
“But you must be honest in your prayers.” He leaned in, and his voice dropped, brushing the shell of her ear like a secret. “Speak with your heart, Sylvie. Not your head. Be clear in your intent and all will be revealed.”
A shiver rippled down her spine. She nodded, her heart thudding beneath her ribs as if it, too, was trying to speak.
“I’ll return at nightfall,” he said. “But I won’t stray far. If you call - ” he tapped her chest lightly, right over her heart, “I’ll answer.”
Her breath stilled.The bond.
He leaned down, lips catching hers in a kiss that made the forest fall silent. It wasn’t hurried, wasn’t rushed - it was slow and aching, searing through her like flame, as if committing her to memory before he departed. She clung to him for a heartbeat longer, savoring the feel of his mouth, the press of his palm at her waist.
When they finally parted, her cheeks were fire, herlips tingling.
His eyes flickered over her face, a certain amusement in his expression. “I’ll never get over that blush.”
And then he was gone - vanishing into the trees like smoke, leaving her alone in the hush of the woods, with only the wind, the distant crash of waves, and the echo of her heartbeat.
If this was to be her last night before the trials, she would let herself feel it all - the emotions, the uncertainty, and the very real shift that was about to take place in her life.
For after this, there would be no time for any of it.
She knew others were already gathered in prayer and sacrifice, their voices rising in unison to petition the gods for favor. She could almost hear them, their voices carried faintly on the wind.
And today, she needed their blessing. Desperately.
After Axel had departed, reality had returned like a sudden gust - cold, sobering, and unrelenting. She was closer than ever to the moment that would change everything.
A new life.
Or death.
Yet even standing at the edge of fate, her heart was clear. She couldn’t set sail to the realms of the gods without their blessing. Without honoring them first. Today, she would kneel. She would pray. And she would offer the only thing she had left - herself.
Her fingers traced the rough bark as she moved through the trees, collecting fallen branches and dried twigs. Each time asking them for their gifts, asking them for their blessing. She deeply believed that even the trees held innate knowledge, spirit, and magic of their own. One shouldn’t simply take without regard, but show honor, reverence, and respect. Even now as she moved beneath them she felt the presence of their gaze, and heard their answers in her heart. It was a divine knowing, something she couldn't explain - only feel. Each leaf,each fallen branch she handled with care and gave thanks to them and the goddess of the wood for their provisions. When she had gathered enough, she built a small fire, careful to keep it contained within the safety of the rocks.
She arranged the dried leaves and twigs slowly and with care, and conjured a flame from her hand just as Axel had instructed her. This time the flame came quickly - no delay, no hesitation, and part of her warmed at the thought that such a feat seemed impossible not so long ago.
The flame caught, flickering to life, its glow casting shadows that danced on the nearby stones. As the fire grew steadier, so did her voice. It began as a low hum, a melody born from deep within, rising with every note until it filled the space around her. She sang to the gods, to the spirits, to her ancestors. She called on them by name, her voice carrying her hopes, her fears, her desperation into the night.
When her song faded into the hush of the woods, she let the silence settle around her. Eyes closed, hands resting over her heart, she turned inward - tuning into herself, to breath, to body, to soul.