The city of Blackhaven wore winter the way it wore loyalty—openly, without shame as if indifferent to the clash that could have destroyed it the night prior.
Snow clung to rooftops and gathered in the grooves of cobblestone streets, packed down by boots and carts into a dull, glistening sheen. Smoke curled from chimneys in lazy spirals, carrying with it the smells of burning pine, spiced meat, and fresh bread. Even in the cold, the city was alive.
Alaric and Elara walked side by side through it.
They did not ride.
They never did, unless duty demanded speed.
Elara was wrapped in white—layers of soft wool and fur-lined fabric that flowed around her like drifting snow, cinched carefully at the waist to accommodate the gentle swell of her pregnancy. Her cloak shimmered faintly, not with glamour, but with the quiet dignity of something well-made and well-loved. Her blonde hair was braided loosely over one shoulder, pale-white against the fabric, her cheeks flushed with cold and life.
Alaric, in contrast, wore black.
His coat was heavier, cut sharp and practical, dark fur lining the collar. Leather gloves creaked softly when he flexed his fingers. Where Elara looked radiant, almost otherworldly, Alaric looked grounded. Solid. A mountain dressed in shadow.
A step behind them walked Eddie Gable, wrapped in grey from head to toe. He wore gray leather armor eneath layers of wool and cloak, his presence unobtrusive but unmistakable. He moved with the ease of someone who had learned how to exist in danger without advertising it.
Alaric exhaled slowly, watching the breath fog in the air.
"I still don't see why you're here," he said, not unkindly, glancing back at Eddie.
"Elara is the strongest person in this region. No one would be foolish enough to try anything."
Eddie's mouth twitched.
"Protocol, my lord. You must be kept safe."
Alaric huffed. "There you go again with your 'protocol'."
Eddie tilted his head slightly. "If safety wasn't important you wouldn't have abandoned your work to walk beside the Lady."
Alaric paused.
Then he chuckled, low and warm, shaking his head. "Fair enough."
Elara smiled softly, her hand resting on Alaric's arm.
"Oh will youtwo stop," she said. "I'm the one who's been inside for months. I'm the one who wanted to go for a walk.I don't know what both of ypu are even doing here."
Alaric smiled at her. "Protocol."
They continued on.
People noticed them immediately.
Conversations softened. Heads bowed. Some smiled openly, others pressed fists to chests in quiet salute. Children stared wide-eyed, tugging at sleeves, while older folk inclined their heads with practiced respect. There was no fear in their eyes—only familiarity.
Affection.
"Lady Elara!" someone called from a bakery doorway. "You shouldn't be out in this cold!"
She laughed, light and genuine. "I'm not made of glass, Miss Hellen."
"Could've fooled me," the woman muttered fondly.
As they passed, the air seemed to shift.
Alaric's presence carried weight—dense, steady, like a great engine idling beneath the surface. Eddie's aura was sharper, honed, a blade sheathed but ready.
Elara's was… different.
It spread gently, like warmth seeping into cold stone. People didn't straighten around her—they relaxed. Shoulders eased. Breaths slowed. For a fleeting moment, the world felt kinder.
She looked, to some, almost heavenly. She was halfway up the ladder of Ascention after all.
Alaric glanced sideways at her, expression softening. "Since we're out," Elara said casually, "we should visit the apothecary."
He smiled. "The one Elias frequents?"
"The very same."
Her gaze drifted ahead, unfocused for a moment. "I haven't had much time with him lately. He's been happier. More open."
"Yeah. Good to see that he's gotten over being impaled by a lizard."
Elara squeezed his arm.
Hard.
"Ow,Ow,Ow. OK,OK I get it."
She smiled sweetly. "Good."
They walked in comfortable silence for a few steps.
"Where's Aina?" Alaric asked.
Elara hummed. "I let her stay at the keep today. She's been helping nonstop. I thought she deserved time to herself."
Alaric nodded approvingly. "Good girl. Too serious for her own good."
"Like someone else I know," Elara said lightly.
They spoke of work then—trade routes stabilizing, the uneasy détente between the Trade Union and the Free Guild holding for now. Alaric mentioned supply discrepancies. Elara admitted she'd gone through his papers and made corrections.
"Pregnant doesn't mean useless," she said flatly.
He laughed. "I wouldn't dare imply it."
Beth's shop came into view—a squat, sturdy building with frosted windows and the sharp, earthy smell of herbs seeping into the street.
Beth herself stood behind the counter, arms crossed, scowling at a bundle of dried roots.
"Lady Elara," she barked the moment she spotted her. "What are you doing out here?"
"Good afternoon to you too," Elara replied pleasantly.
"I just came to see how my boy is doing."
"Oi,Elias!"
Elias emerged from the back room, arms full of bundled herbs.
"You don't have to yell I'm right-" He froze when he saw his parents smiling at him.
"Mother. Father. What are you doing here."
"TWhy, can't we come and visit our cute litle boy," Elara said warmly.
Beth scoffed and jerked a thumb at him.
"Cute? Your son's a menace. He and Jamie. Always getting into strange situations."
Alaric's brow rose. "Oh?"
"Did someone say my name?"
Jamie poked her head out, eyes lighting up when she saw them. She rushed forward and hugged Elara around the waist.
Elara hugged her back gently, stroking her hair. "Hello, Jamie."
Jamie beamed. "How is the baby? Is my new friend growing up well?"
"Yes your friend is coming along nicely."
Elias winced, already imagining the inevitable rivalry between Jamie and Aina over this 'friend'.
"I hope the two of you are woeking hard for auntie Beth."
"Yes, we're having a great time. Like the time we went to the forest and met—"
Elias stepped on Jamie's foot. She yelped and punched his shoulder. "Ow!"
Elara laughed. Alaric chuckled.
Just then, the door creaked open.
Wilcris limped in, leaning heavily on a staff.
Beth rounded on him instantly. "You absolute idiot. Why are you walking all the way here like that?"
He shrugged as she came over to help him. "Come on, don't be like that."
Alaric's expression sharpened. "What happened?"
Wilcris hesitated. "It happened last night while we were out on patrol. I can't tell you the details but Roric just… dashed into the forest," he said slowly.
"Didn't say a thing. One moment he was there, the next he was gone—and then the ground started shaking."
He paused, brow furrowing.
"And then something else came for us," he continued, voice lower. "I don't know what to call it. I can't say it was a beast but I can't exactly say it was a person either. One heartbeat we were standing, the next we couldn't move. Like our bodies forgot how to listen to us."
His grip tightened on the staff.
"It didn't fight us. It just… pinned us in place, looked at us, and vanished the moment Roric came back. Like it had never been there at all."
Elara and Alaric exchanged a look—one brief, heavy with understanding.
They had felt it.
Neither of them had slept the night before. The air itself had trembled, Flow bending and recoiling like a struck bell. A clash between Saints—unmistakable, terrifying in its restraint. Eddie Gable had been on edge from the first tremor, hand never straying far from his weapon, but whatever had happened had ended almost as quickly as it began, the pressure bleeding away before any response could be mounted.
Elara, with her finer, more intimate understanding of Flow, had sensed Roric immediately. His signature had flared like a wounded star, raw and furious, reaching kilometers across the land. The other presence had been… wrong. Slippery. Gone before she could anchor herself to it.
Alaric turned back to Wilcris. "Then tell me this much—what happened after?"
Wilcris stiffened. "I can't, my lord." He lowered his gaze. "Chief's orders. We were told to keep it quiet."
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "Even if it's the lord of this land asking?"
Wilcris shook his head.
"I'm sorry."
For a moment, the silence stretched.
Then Alaric smiled.
"Good," he said simply. "That's how it should be." He turned on his heel. "I'll stop by the Bureau and ask Roric myself."
Elara inclined her head in agreement as Alaric leaned in, pressing a brief kiss to her cheek before heading for the door.
Behind them, Beth scowled and promptly kicked Wilcris's injured leg.
"Ow—what was that for?!" he hissed.
"That's for being stiff-necked with the Lord" she snapped.
Wilcris winced, then muttered, "You're not very romantic."
Elara smiled faintly and turned toward Elias. "Come," she said gently. "I want to talk. We'll go home together."
Elias glanced at Beth. She met his eyes, then gave a short nod.
Jamie immediately perked up. "I'll come too!"
Beth caught her by the collar. "You will not. Finish packing the herbs."
Jamie sagged, casting one last look over her shoulder as Elias and Elara left. There was a small, quiet sadness in her eyes as she turned back to her work.