Night had fallen by the time we stopped walking.
The plains that had glittered gold beneath the sun were now bathed in silver, the grasses whispering secrets to the cool wind as it wound through them. Overhead, the stars were sharp and bright, far more vivid than they ever looked from Solaris, where the wards and torches always softened them. Here, in the open world, the night sky was endless, a tapestry of light and shadow stretching on forever.
We had made a small fire. Nothing grand—just a circle of stones and a crackle of warmth—but it felt like a hearth nonetheless. Dario sat across from me, shadows curling at theedges of the firelight, not menacing, not ominous—justthere,as much a part of him as the way his silver eyes caught the glow.
I watched him in silence for a long while. The way the firelight painted his face in warm hues, the way he seemed at once utterly human and something far older. And the thought struck me, sudden and fierce:He is mine.
It wasn’t a claim of possession, but of belonging. For so long, everything in my life had belonged to the temple, to Solaris, to the Elders, to the Sun God. I had been theirs. But now, for the first time, I had chosen. I had chosen him. And he had chosen me.
The quiet stretched between us, companionable but heavy with unspoken thoughts. I found myself breaking it with a whisper. “I keep thinking about what I left behind.”
Dario’s gaze flicked to me, steady, unreadable. “Regret?”
I shook my head, pulling my knees close to my chest. The fire crackled softly. “No. Not regret. Just… echoes. Solaris was my whole world for a hundred years. Every step I took was for them, every prayer, every drop of blood drawn for those wards. It’s hard not to feel the weight of it still clinging to me.”
He studied me quietly, and I could almost feel the unspoken words in him:You gave them everything.
I smiled faintly, though the expression ached at the edges. “But when I think of what I gained…” My eyes met his across the fire. “…the weight doesn’t feel so heavy.”
Something flickered in his gaze—something soft, something vulnerable, and it made my heart twist. For a moment, neither of us spoke, letting the truth of it linger in the air.
I stretched my hand toward the flames, feeling the heat dance across my skin. “Do you know what frightened me most about leaving?” I asked quietly.
He tilted his head. “Tell me.”
“That I wouldn’t know who I was without them. Without thetitle, the duty, the endless responsibility.” I swallowed, staring at the fire. “That maybe there was nothing left of me underneath.”
Silence. Then, his voice, low and steady: “And what do you think now?”
I lifted my gaze to him. The fire crackled, shadows dancing across his sharp features. “Now? I think… I’m finding out. And for the first time, I’m excited to learn who I am when I’m not just the High Priestess.”
I had thought leaving would feel like breaking, but instead, it felt like opening. Like wings stretching for the first time.
Dario leaned back, his gaze never leaving me. “Whoever you discover yourself to be,” he said softly, “I’ll be there to see it.”
My breath caught. It wasn’t a grand vow, not a dramatic oath—it was simply truth, spoken with a certainty that anchored me more than any temple stone ever had.
I rose slowly, crossing the space between us. The fire’s glow kissed the edges of my gown, the grass whispering beneath my steps. When I sank down beside him, his shadows curled instinctively, not in warning but in welcome.
“I was afraid of this too,” I admitted, my voice barely above the crackle of the fire. “Of us. Of what it would mean. Loving you meant turning my back on everything I thought I was supposed to be.”
His gaze searched mine, quiet, patient.
“But now…” My lips curved in a soft, trembling smile. “…I realize it’s the first time I’ve loved something that was truly my choice.”
For a moment, all I could hear was the rhythm of my own heartbeat, loud and insistent in my chest. Then he reached for my hand, his fingers brushing mine with a gentleness that undid me. I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder, and for a long time we sat in silence, watching the stars wheel across the sky.
The night wrapped around us, vast and unending, but instead of making me feel small, it made me feel infinite. I was no longer caged by duty or chained by expectation. I was here, in this moment, with him.
And for the first time, the future didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like a horizon—wide, untamed, waiting to be discovered.
I tilted my head, whispering into the quiet. “Do you ever wonder what comes next?”
His answer was immediate, steady. “Every moment. But with you beside me, I don’t fear it.”
I closed my eyes, letting his words sink into me, letting the warmth of the fire and the steady beat of his presence wrap around me.
Tomorrow, the road would lead us to forests and mountains, to dangers and wonders I could not yet imagine.
