Crossing Borders

The morning after the dream, I can barely look at Kael without blushing.

He rides in with the scouts just as the camp is breaking down, his face carefully neutral, but the moment our eyes meet across the clearing, I feel the bond flare hot between us. He knows. He remembers every detail of the dream, just as I do. I can see it in the way his jaw tightens, the way his hands clench on the Voidstepper's reins. The way his gaze drops to my mouth for just a fraction of a second before he forces himself to look away.

"You slept well, I hope?" Riven asks cheerfully, appearing at my elbow with a cup of weak tea.

I take it gratefully, using it as an excuse to avoid eye contact. "Well enough."

"Liar." She grins. "You look like you spent the night wrestling demons. Or dreaming about wrestling a certain cursed prince."

"Riven—"

"I'm just saying, the bond affects dreams too. Everyone knows that. And judging by the way he's been avoiding looking at you all morning, I'd wager you two had quite the shared experience."

I nearly choke on my tea. "Is nothing private in this caravan?"

"Not when you're moonbound to the most notorious fugitive in three realms." She pats my shoulder sympathetically. "Get used to it. We're a gossipy bunch, but it comes from a place of affection. Mostly."

Before I can respond, Thessia's voice cuts across the camp. "Gather round! We've got a situation." The crew assembles quickly, forming a loose circle around where Thessia stands beside one of the wagons. Kael dismounts and joins the group, positioning himself deliberately on the opposite side of the circle from me. I try not to feel hurt by it. Try and fail. Thessia waits until everyone is settled before speaking. "We're approaching the border between Lyriah and Varelle. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue—we have trade permits and safe-passage seals. But I've just received word from our scouts that the Ember Dominion has established checkpoints along the main roads." A murmur of concern ripples through the group.

"They're searching for fugitives," Thessia continues, her gaze flickering briefly to Kael. "Specifically, those with magical abilities they deem 'useful.' Which means we can't take the main route. We'll have to cross through the Shardfall." The murmur becomes outright protest. Someone—a grizzled man with Runeborn markings—speaks up. "The Shardfall? That's suicide. Those floating islands are unstable, and the paths between them shift daily. Not to mention the creatures that nest there."

"I'm aware of the risks, Torven," Thessia says calmly. "But the alternative is handing over two of our people to the Dominion. That's not happening." Torven's eyes cut to Kael and me, and I see the calculation there. "Two people we've known for less than a day. Is their safety worth risking the entire caravan?" The question hangs in the air like a blade. I feel my stomach drop, but before I can speak, Kael steps forward.

"She's right," he says flatly. "You shouldn't risk your people for us. Sevia and I will split off, find our own way."

"No." Thessia's voice cracks like a whip. "We don't abandon our own. And as of yesterday, you're both part of this caravan. That means we protect you. Even if it means taking the dangerous route."

"But—"

"The decision is made, Torven." Thessia's tone brooks no argument. "We leave for the Shardfall in one hour. Make sure the Voidsteppers are properly secured—they don't like the unstable magic there. And everyone, prepare for rough terrain." The group disperses, some grumbling, others resigned. I catch Kael's eye across the clearing, and I see the guilt written plainly on his face. He blames himself for this. For putting these people in danger. I want to go to him, to tell him it's not his fault. But before I can move, a hand catches my arm.

It's Thessia. "Walk with me," she says, not waiting for an answer before steering me away from the camp. We walk in silence for a few minutes, following the edge of the valley until we're out of earshot. Finally, she stops and turns to face me. "That dream last night," she says without preamble. "It was intense, wasn't it?"

I stare at her. "How did you—"

"I'm a dreamweaver too, girl. Not as powerful as you, but sensitive enough to feel when major dream-bonds activate nearby." She crosses her arms. "You and Kael merged in the dream-realm. That's a significant escalation."

"We didn't—" I feel my face heat. "We didn't complete anything. We just… talked. And…"

"And kissed," Thessia supplies dryly. "Among other things, I'd wager. Don't bother denying it—I can see the bond mark forming."

"The what?"

She reaches out and touches the skin just above my collarbone, and I feel a faint tingle of magic. "Here. It's subtle now, but it's growing. When moonbound pairs begin to truly connect, they develop matching marks. His is the Bloodwraith curse. Yours will be the counterpoint—light to his shadow. Dream to his nightmare."

I press my fingers to the spot she touched, and I can feel it now—a warmth that wasn't there before, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. In time with the bond.

"Is it dangerous?" I ask.

"Everything about your bond is dangerous," Thessia says bluntly. "But it's also inevitable. You can't fight it forever—no moonbound pair can. Eventually, you'll either accept it completely or it'll tear you both apart. There's no middle ground."

"Kael thinks accepting it will destroy me."

"Kael is terrified," she corrects. "With good reason. His curse is one of the most destructive I've encountered. But fear can be just as dangerous as the curse itself. It makes people do stupid things. Like trying to protect someone by pushing them away."

"What would you do?" I ask. "If you were me?"

Thessia is quiet for a moment, her sharp eyes distant. "I was bonded once," she says finally. "Long time ago. Different circumstances. But I made the mistake of listening to fear instead of trust. I pushed him away, convinced I was protecting him. Protecting us both."

"What happened?"

"He died." The words are flat, emotionless, but I can hear the old pain beneath them. "Not because of the bond. Because he faced a threat alone that we should have faced together. And I've spent the last twenty years wondering if things would have been different if I'd just had the courage to stay."

My chest aches for her. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head. "Don't be sorry. Just be smarter than I was. If you and Kael are truly bound—and from what I've seen, you are—then you need to face this together. All of it. The curse, the danger, the impossible choices. Because trying to protect each other by staying apart will only get you both killed."

"How do I convince him of that?"

A slight smile curves her lips. "You don't. You show him. Be strong enough, brave enough, stubborn enough that he has no choice but to accept that you're in this together. That's what the bond demands—partnership. Equality. Two souls becoming one without either losing themselves."

"And if the curse wins?" I whisper. "If he's right, and accepting the bond destroys one or both of us?"

"Then at least you'll face it together." She places a hand on my shoulder. "That's worth more than you might think."

We walk back to camp in silence, but her words echo in my mind. *Face it together. Be strong enough that he has no choice but to accept you're in this together.*

I can do that. I will do that.

Even if it terrifies me.

---

The Shardfall is aptly named.

It's a region where the fabric of Lunareth itself seems to have come undone—massive chunks of land floating in midair, connected by bridges of solidified magic that shimmer like glass. Some of the islands are stable, anchored by ancient obelisks that hum with power. Others drift slowly through the air, their paths unpredictable and dangerous.

Below them all, visible through gaps in the floating landmasses, is the Core Sea—that luminous blue-white abyss that marks the heart of the Shattered Sphere.

Looking at it makes my head spin and my stomach lurch.

"Don't look down," Riven advises as our wagon creeps onto the first bridge. "Trust me. It doesn't help."

The Voidsteppers, true to their name, seem unbothered by the height. They step onto the glowing bridge with the same confidence they showed on solid ground, their hooves making soft clicking sounds against the magical surface. I, however, am decidedly not unbothered. Every creak of the wagon, every slight sway of the bridge, makes my heart leap into my throat. I grip the edge of my seat so tightly my knuckles turn white, trying to focus on anything except the vast emptiness below.

Through the bond, I feel Kael's sudden surge of concern. He's riding ahead with the scouts, but I know he can sense my fear. A moment later, he wheels his Voidstepper around and falls back to ride alongside our wagon.

"You're all right," he says, and it's not a question. It's a statement. A command. "Just breathe. The bridges are stable."

"They're made of magic," I counter, my voice tight. "Magic can fail."

"Not this magic. These bridges have been here since the Shattering. They're anchored to the Core Sea itself." He reaches out, and for a moment, I think he's going to touch me. But his hand stops just short of mine, hovering in the space between us. "Focus on me. On the bond. Let it ground you."

I do as he says, closing my eyes and reaching for the connection between us. Immediately, I feel it—his steady presence, solid and unshakeable. His confidence bleeds into me, chasing away some of the panic.

"Better?" he asks softly.

I open my eyes and find him watching me with an intensity that has nothing to do with the precarious bridge. "Better."

"Good." He still doesn't pull his hand away, and I realize we're both caught in the same trap—wanting to touch, needing to touch, but afraid of what will happen if we do.

"Kael—"

"I know." His voice is rough. "I feel it too. But not here. Not now. When we're somewhere safe, somewhere private—"

"Will we ever be somewhere safe?" I ask.

He doesn't answer. Because we both know the truth. Safety is a luxury neither of us can afford.

We make it across the first three bridges without incident. But as we're crossing the fourth—a longer span that connects two larger islands—I feel it. A shift in the air. A wrongness that makes my skin prickle. Kael feels it too. I see him tense, his head snapping up to scan the sky. "Thessia!" he shouts. "Contact! Above us!" I look up and see them—creatures diving down from the clouds above. They're massive, with wingspans easily twenty feet across, and their bodies are covered in iridescent scales that shift between blue and black. Their heads are angular and reptilian, and their talons look like they could punch through steel.

"Voidrakes!" Torven's voice cuts through the sudden chaos. "Defensive positions!"

The caravan erupts into coordinated action. Wagons pull close together, creating a makeshift barrier. Those with ranged weapons—bows, crossbows, even a few rifles—take up positions. Kael leaps from his Voidstepper and lands in a crouch beside our wagon, shadows already beginning to coil around him.

"Stay down," he orders, his voice taking on that layered quality that means the Bloodwraith is rising. "Don't leave the wagon. Understand?"

"Kael—"

"Understand?" The silver in his eyes is bleeding into red, and I can feel the curse surging through him, feeding on the adrenaline and fear saturating the air.

"I understand," I say quickly.

He nods once, then launches himself toward the nearest Voidrake.

What happens next is carnage.

Kael moves like death given form, his shadows extending like bladed whips that slice through scale and flesh with terrifying ease. He leaps impossibly high, catching one of the diving creatures mid-flight and dragging it down to the bridge. The impact cracks the magical surface, sending spiderwebs of light racing outward. The Voidrake shrieks and thrashes, but Kael is relentless. His hand closes around its throat, and I watch in horrified fascination as the shadows pour into the creature, devouring it from the inside out. Within seconds, there's nothing left but dust.

Other members of the caravan are fighting too—Torven's runes blaze to life, sending arcs of lightning into the sky. A pair of Marshborn women weave curses that make the Voidrakes' wings seize up mid-flight. Thessia herself stands atop the lead wagon, her hands moving in complex patterns as she manipulates the dream-stuff of reality, creating illusory doubles of our caravan to confuse the attackers. But Kael is the storm at the center of it all. He's terrifying. Beautiful. Monstrous. I can feel the curse running wild through him, can feel his struggle to maintain control even as he gives himself over to the violence.

And then I see it—a Voidrake, larger than the others, circling high above. Its eyes fix on Kael, and I see the intelligence there. The calculation. It's not attacking. It's hunting.

"Kael!" I scream. "Above you!" He looks up just as the massive creature dives, its talons extended. He tries to dodge, but he's a fraction too slow. The talons rake across his shoulder, tearing through leather and flesh, and I feel the pain echo through the bond like it's my own. Kael goes down hard, blood streaming from the wound. And something in me snaps.

I don't think. I don't plan. I just reach for the magic I've spent my whole life trying to suppress, the dreamweaving that bleeds into reality, and I pull. Silver light explodes from my hands, and I feel reality shift in response to my will. The dream-realm and the waking world blur together, and suddenly, I'm not just imagining protection for Kael—I'm creating it. A barrier of solidified light erupts around him, deflecting the Voidrake's second attack. The creature shrieks in frustration, its talons scraping uselessly against the shield. Everyone freezes. Fighters, Voidrakes, even Kael—all staring at me as silver light pours from my hands like water.

"Sevia," Thessia breathes. "Stop. You'll burn yourself out—". But I can't stop. The power is flowing through me, vast and terrible and utterly beyond my control. The pendant at my throat is burning hot, trying to contain the magic, but it's not enough. I'm not enough.

Just as I think I'm going to shatter from the strain, I feel it—Kael, reaching through the bond. Not taking. Not devouring. Supporting. His curse intertwines with my gift, shadow and light becoming something new. Something balanced. And together, we channel the power into one devastating strike. The silver light becomes a spear, solid and deadly, and it lances through the air to pierce the massive Voidrake through its chest. The creature lets out a final, echoing cry before it dissolves into ash and light. The remaining Voidrakes scatter, fleeing back into the clouds. And then the power fades, and I collapse.

Strong arms catch me before I hit the ground. Kael, his face pale and drawn with pain from his wound, cradles me against his chest.

"I've got you," he murmurs, and I can hear the awe and fear in his voice. "Gods, Sevia. What did you do?"

"Saved you," I manage to whisper before darkness claims me.

The last thing I feel is his lips pressing against my forehead.

And the bond, pulsing strong and certain between us.

Together, it seems to whisper.

Together.