A hush hung there, deeper than any scream had been. Stillness pressed close, colder than steel ever could.
Out here, Kael Blackmane crept low beneath tangled branches, ears pricked. A broken stick - then silence - then a flicker in the air made him freeze. Wind from the north drifted down, laced with smoke, iron-tang of blood, plus an oddness underneath. Not accident. Crafted.
Lyra.
Hours passed while he followed the faint hints of her magic, slow and steady. Clever she was - far too sharp for common tricks to work. Still, his approach wasn't built on strength, instead shaped by long seasons chasing those who wield hidden powers. Patience guided him more than speed ever could.
Out there, the open space came into view, washed in pale moon glow. Baring his teeth, Kael stopped short at the border, nails dragging across soil. From last night's fight, wisps of smoke twisted through trunks, thin as spirits. Down he sank, melting without effort into a wolf's shape. Darkness moved with him now, each step soundless, exact.
That was when his eyes caught sight of her.
From where she stood, Lyra filled the quiet clearing, staff lifted high, dark fabric moving without wind. Beneath her boots, the ring of defense pulsed softly, symbols flickering as if breathing old fire. Tied behind, strands of her hair gleamed under the moon, framing cheekbones carved by shadow and light. Stillness held her - yet tension poured off like warmth rising from stone after dusk.
A growl rumbled deep inside the wolf. Not from being afraid. From waiting. From risk. Yet…a feeling beyond words.
Footsteps broke the silence as Kael entered the open space, toes gripping damp soil. Heavy stillness followed, trees freezing mid-whisper at the intrusion. Breath paused everywhere, caught in the hush.
A shadow shifted. "Kael Blackmane," Lyra muttered, her words slicing the quiet air. Surprise never crossed her face - just cold recognition. Of course he'd come creeping after her
"Always have," he said, stepping forward as his body reshaped itself, blade appearing in grip. Moonlight caught the thin silver lines running through the metal. Hiding won't help. Never works around here. The others always know
A tight frown crossed her mouth, grip adjusting on the pole she held. Not moving forward, just standing there, voice low - what you see as loyalty feels like pride to me
Kael's amber gaze moved across the symbols carved in the dirt. Quietly, he said it was smart - just short of brilliant. The marks held a kind of cunning, yet slipped just past true insight
Faster than a blink, he charged forward.
Thunder split the air as magic met metal. Spinning fast, Lyra blocked the blade with a burst from her staff. Light flared - sparks caught the look in her eyes. A hush fell over the trees. The earth trembled underfoot.
Firm steps carried Kael ahead, never pausing. Each move, each fake jab became a question shaping his understanding. The strength in her surged wild, close to spilling over without warning. Speed marked her, sharp thinking too, though her magic stayed planned, cautious - holding back on purpose, something he saw clearly.
You hold back, he said, his voice quiet, nearly a rumble. What stops you?
Energy crackled from her hand, making her team stir behind her while he twisted away, body tight like a spring about to snap. Not every move needs force - sometimes patience wins instead. Her voice cut through the quiet without rising above it: Was spending all power at once ever really smart? You still stand across from me, not beneath me
Kael stopped dead. "You're saying we aren't on opposite sides?"
Her gaze met his, steady, unwavering. "Enemies? Perhaps. But there is more to this war than hatred, Blackmane. You - " She faltered slightly, just for a moment. He noticed. He always noticed. "…You will learn that brute force does not win wars."
A flicker stirred in Kael, not rage but something deeper - older than fury, quieter than war. It wasn't just about hitting back. Her presence tugged at him like a current under ice. Testing her mattered. Yet what held him tighter was the unspoken stretch between them, thick each time she drew close.
A clash unfolded, blades meeting under crackling spells. Not far off, Kael drove forward - Lyra slipped aside, sending beams that burst into flame on bark, scorching deep grooves. In reply, he cut clean through shimmering walls, one after another. Light flared in jagged bursts, mixed with red drops hitting soil, flashing brightness across roots and leaves.
Stillness filled the air. Speech had no place here. Action, gut feeling, spells - these carried the weight instead. Yet under each strike and parry, a quiet current ran. A knowing passed through without names. Interest sparked, low but clear. Almost wonder, though neither would admit it.
A low growl rose as Kael tensed, fangs showing, fingers curled into sharp points, inching forward. That stick in your hands? It could finish me off, he muttered. So why hold back?
She spun fast, staff cutting through air. "I know what I'm doing," she said as he slid back from the blow. Truth lives in quiet places, even when unspoken
Stillness took him, heart pounding loud. Not just defiance in what she said - there was playfulness hidden there. That flicker, sharp and wild, showed in her gaze. Suddenly clear: she saw exactly what it did to him.
She launched herself forward without warning.
A sudden burst of magic flared under her, wild energy surging outward. Twisting trees lifted their roots like arms reaching skyward, while cracks raced across the ground without warning. Rolling sideways, Kael moved fast - his silver blade slicing thick roots apart, smashing through broken trunks. Power pulsed so deep it made the air hum, shaking him from within. The forest reacted as though struck by thunder, every leaf trembling in its wake.
A gust snapped through the trees as they met once more, bodies nearly touching now, flickering too quick to follow. When Lyra lunged, Kael twisted aside, his blade rising not by thought but reflex - power driving motion, feet skipping on packed earth. Metal kissed metal, bright flashes bursting where spellfire hit silver, noise cracking across open sky. The air trembled after each strike, heavy with ringing echoes.
A sharp grip stopped her swing, the weapon falling with a hollow sound. Close now - too close - the air between them snapped like wire. He breathed hard, his gaze locked on hers, golden and unyielding. She stared back, mind racing behind fire-lit pupils, jaw set - not just anger there, but another current beneath.
"You're…not like the others," came his words, hushed, nearly rough.
Breath heavy, she shot back, "I might just say that too," strands slipping free from where they'd been tied. Around them, trees trembled - not from wind - but from what surged between two people who wouldn't step down.
A moment stretched longer than it should have. Kael felt the risk, how it pulled his focus sideways, yet stayed still. She didn't shift either.
Then everything broke apart.
A cry cut through the trees - Kael's wolf standing at the clearing's rim - and just like that, it was over. Each pulled back, returning to themselves, hands gripping blades, breath coming fast. Air moved between the branches, slow and deep, like the woods had been holding it too long.
A moment passed before she spoke again. Her words came out flat, even while her hand moved to touch the rim of her weapon - just once - as if making sure it hadn't vanished.
Kael gave a slow nod, brushing soot from his face. "Later," came the reply. Even if he didn't mean it, his gaze stayed fixed where she had been, fading into dark patches beneath the branches, moving like something hunting through the forest.
That night stayed sharp with waiting. Through shadowed trees went Kael's group, tagging spots here, laying snares there, tending cuts and bruises. Yet again his thoughts pulled back - to the woman with fire in her gaze, the one who matched him strike for strike, unblinking, steady under pressure. Her face surfaced each time he blinked.
Through the eastern glade she went, Lyra stepping quiet among her coven, readying for what comes after. His trace stayed near, not seen but known, like breath on stone just before storm. Still, past the plans and angles, something tugged - awareness flashed between them, sharp, alive, edged with weight that had no name.
One stayed silent about it. The other did too - for now.
Funny how things changed. That opening clash? Nobody won, yet both walked away on edge, minds caught between fighting the enemy and watching each other. Stillness after noise, tension where certainty once stood.
Below the surface, each one sensed it. Next meeting, claws clash plus spells fly - but worse, ties form. Not just strength against strength, yet bonds twist like thorns. Quiet knowing lives there. Danger hides in links made, not blows struck.
Fog lifted as silence settled back over the trees. Twisted limbs dangled low, ground blackened here and there, air still carrying a thin trail of ash - last night's violence left its signature behind. Yet beneath crooked roots and mossy stone, two figures waited without moving; one on high ground, the other near water, both knowing exactly where the second stood, thoughts already shifting ahead like wind before storm.
The fighting started small. Not long ago, it lit up like a spark in dry grass. Moments passed before anyone noticed. Then everything changed fast.
Then came the moment when their match reached its end.
A dangerous game.
A moment when the initial clash ended, yet unease started creeping in. The air changed after that opening move - quiet, but charged.
Beneath it all, past rage and pounding veins, something small stayed ready - still, unspoken, impossible to ignore.