The air inside the tent was warm, filled with the quiet crackle of an enclosed hearth and the faint scent of peonies. The fabric was thick, woven with golden thread at the seams, a temporary sanctuary for someone whose body had plummeted from the stars.
Elyonari's fingers twitched as a low groan escaped her lips. Her lashes fluttered, violet eyes opening slowly to the soft light that filtered through the patterned canopy above.
Her body ached as faint tremors of exhaustion pulled at her arms and legs like stubborn vines. She blinked again, taking in the bed beneath her, the silken sheets, the clean bandages wrapped around her arms and thighs. A wave of confusion hit her first… then a realization. This wasn't what she'd worn when she plummeted to the earth.
She had a deep red tunic, fitted but not tight, embroidered with silver snow lilies across the neckline. Her legs were wrapped in warm leggings, and a soft sash was tied across her waist.
She tried to rise from the bed, which was a very vad move.
Her legs immediately gave out beneath her. The cold floor approached faster than she could brace for, until she felt strong hands catch her, holding her under her arms like she weighed nothing. Her breath caught. She looked up.
Vastarael.
His eyes met hers, calm but full of restrained emotion. His mouth had just opened—no doubt to scold her for trying to move too soon—but the words died on his tongue the moment she launched into his chest.
Her arms wrapped around him like her soul was anchoring itself back to the world. He froze for a moment, clearly surprised, but then wrapped his arms around her, protective and gentle all at once.
"Are you okay?"
Her body trembled. Tears pressed from her eyes without warning, wetting the front of his tunic.
"I–I'm okay now," she whispered into his chest. "I'm okay now… because I'm with you."
Vastarael didn't speak right away. He just held her, one arm across her back, the other gently resting at her nape as if reminding her that she didn't have to carry everything anymore.
"…You're safe. I was starting to think that you are dead."
Elyonari gave a wet chuckle that cracked with emotion. She leaned back just slightly, looking up at him with flushed cheeks.
"I… I killed innocent academy students. I'm sure Adelasta told you. Students came after me after I survived. I… I did what I had to. And I hate it."
Vastarael's expression shifted. He brushed a stray lock of silver hair from her face, his thumb tracing her cheek as if anchoring her once again.
"I've done worse. Things that would make a clean soul weep. I don't say that to excuse what happened but to tell you that you're not alone."
"Adelasta… told me some of it. She said you left because you had to fulfill EPOCH'S wish."
"And I'm still alive. Even though I miss getting a break every now and then..."
She laughed through her tears, hiding her face again in his chest.
"I missed you, you idiot."
His chest vibrated slightly with his quiet chuckle.
"You crash into my camp like a meteor, wake up in my tent, nearly break your spine trying to stand up, and I'm the idiot?"
She only tightened her hold.
"I'm sorry. For everything. For not listening when you said this path would cost more than I could imagine. For thinking I could carry it alone. For not running to you when I had the chance."
"Hey," he said, gently pulling her away to look at her again. "You survived. That's more than most did. And now you're here."
She stared at him for a moment. The firelight made his eyes glow with a quiet power. He was calmer than most would expect, but the strength beneath that calm was unmistakable. The same Vastarael that could silence a battlefield with a single movement… was now holding her as if she were something fragile.
"I thought I was ready to die," she confessed quietly. "But I didn't. And now… I think that means something."
"It means you're not done yet."
"And you? What... does it mean for you?"
"It means you have someone to lean on. Someone who's not gonna let you crash a second time without catching you."
She gave a soft laugh and wiped her face.
"You always say things like that, you know. All noble and poetic."
"I'm a married man," he said dryly. "Comes with the territory."
She gave him a look.
"And yet you still hold me like I was the only woman on the continent."
"That's because you're Elyonari. That never stopped meaning something."
She bit her lip, then leaned forward and hugged him again, quieter this time. The tears had stopped, but her body had begun to relax. The pain was still there but Vastarael's presence was a balm that no medicine could match.
°°°°°°
The wind outside the tent had quieted into a hush. Inside, the golden glow of glowing lights wrapped the walls in a soft embrace. And at the heart of it all sat Vastarael, cradling Elyonari like she weighed nothing more than a feather.
She sat across his lap, arms folded, face flushed in defiance, though her pout was more adorable than intimidating. Her lips were pressed tight in protest, but her eyes betrayed her. They were tired, soft, and hopelessly betraying the comfort she felt in his arms.
"I told you I can eat by myself."
She mumbled, squirming slightly, though not enough to suggest she wanted to move.
Vastarael didn't even look at her at first. He was focused on the task of cooling the next spoonful of food from the sapphire bowl that rested on a small wooden stand beside him. The aroma alone was enough to betray the divinity of its source—the Bowl of Wisdom. His first Divine Artifact, forged in the era of his enlightenment.
It was feeding stew to a pouty elven woman who looked like she might combust from embarrassment at any moment.
"It's curry rice with stew and meat. I know you like potatoes."
Elyonari narrowed her eyes her cheeks puffing.
"I swear, if you put that spoon near my mouth again—"
His tone was dry now, more amused than commanding. He placed the spoon in her hand and gave her space to try. She grumbled, glaring at him.
"Then feed yourself."
"I will."
The moment she tried to lift the spoon, her hand shook. The metal clinked gently against the ceramic, her fingers trembling from residual exhaustion and energy imbalance. She tried again stubbornly, but the moment she lifted it, the spoon tumbled back into the bowl with a soft splash.
"…Shut up," she muttered before he could say anything.
Vastarael didn't laugh. He didn't even smirk. He just leaned forward with the faintest, knowing smile, took the spoon from her hand, scooped up a generous portion of rice and curry, and held it near her lips.
"Here comes the Praesit.."
Her eyes darted to him. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Immensely so, yes."
She mumbled something unintelligible under her breath, but finally, grudgingly opened her mouth and took the spoonful. Her eyes fluttered slightly at the taste.
The Bowl of Wisdom never disappointed. The rice was fluffy, soaked with curry so rich it melted across her tongue. The meat was perfectly tender, the potatoes soft but not mushy, and the stew had hints of herbs she couldn't even name. It was the kind of food that warmed from the soul outward. By the time she swallowed, her grumpy resistance had already begun to fade.
"…Fine. It's good."
"Told you," he replied, scooping another bite.
She leaned her head slightly against his chest, relaxing without even realizing it. Her voice softened a bit.
"Do you feed your other soldiers like this, too?"
"Only my whiny daughters."
"I'm not whiny."
"You are very whiny."
She grunted but didn't argue. Another spoonful entered her mouth.
A few moments passed in silence. Then...
"I love you."
Vastarael blinked once.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. Just a quiet, breathy confession that almost got lost between spoonfuls of stew. Her voice wasn't steady either. It trembled with vulnerability, with fear and hope mingled in the same breath.
His fingers stopped. The spoon paused in mid-air.
"I know."
Her eyes snapped up to him.
"You know?"
He lowered the spoon back into the bowl and looked at her.
"Of course. You kissed me back in the academy, remember?"
Her face instantly turned crimson. "That… doesn't mean anything!"
"Ely, I may be a lot of things but I'm not dense."
She stared at him, then looked away, cheeks flaring.
"Still could've told me sooner…"
"I figured it out a long time ago. But you had your path. I had mine."
She sighed and pulled the blanket over her legs a bit more, fidgeting.
"…Do you… like me too?"
She asked, her voice a whisper so small it could've shattered under a breath.
"I do."
She blinked.
"I like you, Elyonari."
"…You're lying."
"You're on my lap. I'm feeding you like a child. In the academy, we lived together, trained together, oh, and do you remember how many nights we stayed up just talking about how we'd change when we graduated?"
She flushed, turning her head away.
"T–that doesn't mean anything—"
"Two teenagers in one room with no supervision. Elyonari, you do realize how dangerous that was, right?"
"Hey."
He grinned.
"I swear if you finish that sentence, I'll—"
She didn't get to finish. The spoon was already in her mouth.
She froze, cheeks puffed out with stew, glaring at him like she was going to kill him after she swallowed. Vastarael looked entirely too pleased with himself, smirking without shame.
"You walked into that one."
She chewed slowly, glaring the entire time, but then, despite herself, she laughed softly. It wasn't sarcastic. It was light, breathless, almost surprised at her own joy.
"…I really missed this," she admitted. "Being around you. Being stupid. Laughing. Feeling like… I exist again."
"You do exist," he said, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. "And now you've got a place again. Right here."
She leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes.
"Even if I'm a crying, spoon-fed mess?"
He smiled, pressing a small kiss to her temple.
"Especially then."