he earth was cool and hard under my sore back, adding to the pain biting my spine. Five days of trekking on foot had done nothing but wear us to the last bit; even nights were not for rest if we wished to reach the witch's house and the port within the deadline Téors had mentioned. There had been a couple of nights in which we didn't sleep nor rest, instead moved fast through the woods encircling cities and villages, staying hidden from every single soul.

I rolled to one side, eyes still heavy as I stared at the dead cinders remaining from last night's fire before they darted at the empty spot opposite me. There was only Leon's cloak, a tattered piece of black fabric-a twin to mine-that we'd picked from a sleeping house yesterday. We left enough coppers for the family to get at least four new ones, but the nights were getting colder and our poor clothes that barely covered us were doing nothing against the cool winds.

Stretching, back still pressed against dirt and grass and mud caused by dew, I pulled myself up, stares taking in quickly the dying night, a few strokes of colors washing the dark sky. It was another day of walking before we reached first destination; hopefully, we would be at the witch's tomorrow at best, the day after it at worst.

I turned to the stream hidden not so far behind the bushes we'd settled next to, fingers running in my short, tangled hair, the stickiness of mud and dirt clinging to my skin and under my nails. My entire body was covered in dirt and spots of Gods-knew-what and sweat even when I had already washed twice in the streams we'd crossed.

It was only a few steps past the bushes and thickets that I caught Aedis sitting in the meadow, a torn piece of his cloak helping him drying his hair. His skin was so pale under the dimly growing light, glowing beneath the runes etched on him. What was supposed to be a top was laying next to him, leaving him shirtless, his figure as slender as a knife. It was so unlike the Leon I knew who wore glorious muscles after years of intense training and hunting. But the demon in front of me wasn't looking like he was starved to the point of dying, some muscles lining his back and arms. Apparently, our form was changeable, making us capable of reducing how catastrophic we looked like.

Windreapers, or the now called Fallen, had stronger bodies that could grow almost twenty times faster than a normal Ardorian. The week we would have before the tournament would be enough to return to full, well-kept form so we could show our enemies just how powerful we were supposed to be.

There was an unspeakable sort of relief and peace within me in knowing that this specie was gone and to never come back, thanks to Sorcha and Ramos and everyone that fought to bring them down, including Kallin.

I stopped next to Leon, crouching to untie my worn out boots as his eyes ran all over me more than twice. I only held his eyes, raising my eyebrows at the ghost of a smirk playing at his lips. I kicked my boots away and fell next to him, crossing my legs as I kept eyes on him, waiting.

"You surely are easing into you role," he whispered, leaning before he plucked a few bit of green-a leaf or some grass-from my hair before he tossed it aside.

"At least," I countered, "I am taking my mission seriously." It took me more strength than I'd like to admit in trying to maintain a demeanor as I crossed my arms, noting well that way in which he stared at me-the same way since we left the forest as though he couldn't quite get used to the face staring back at him.

He didn't reply, instead rubbed his hair and beard harder, the latter thin since he'd shaved yesterday. How he didn't cut himself with that piece of metal we'd also taken from that house doing so, I wasn't sure I was willing to ask.

"Ever went to sleep last night?"

He only shook his head, stretching his arms behind him as he stared at the stream in front of us that grew wider the more it went south. I dropped my elbows on my thighs and rested my head in my hands, staring at the Shadow as I added, "I still want a rune like the one you have."

He turned back to me, sharp canines glinting as he smiled, something in it wicked ever since Deres and Énor charmed him. "Whenever you feel like spending three days in a row knocked out, I'll be there for you."

I grunted; that would have to wait until we got back to my castle. That, if we got out of Eziara in one piece. And sane. For the next few minutes, we were in a comfortable silence, the gentle rustling of water and singing birds filling the woods, especially the remote, dangerous piece of it that could lead a man in circles if he didn't know where to go.

"Now that I remember,'' I started, straightening before I leaned my head on Leon's shoulder. "You still owe me anything I want."

He eyed my smirk with both mischief and sharpness, perhaps trying to see just how this was going to end. "I do, just like Luthian owes you a debt to fulfill until his last breath." He tilted his head slightly, warm breath brushing my forehead, tingling my skin. "I wonder if you enjoy having men bound to you by oaths at your personal disposal."

I shrugged slightly. "You never know when it comes in hand." Leon-Aedis-laughed, the sound cold and feral and nothing like what I was used to. Even his voice was different, rougher and like a hiss getting out of his throat. "I was wondering about what lie we should come out for this." He ran a finger down the fake scar and inked tattoos on it, his hand even more scarred and bruised than his chest.

"So was I.'' I placed one hand on his temple just where the scar was and whispered, "And since Sorcha decided to have us mates, we may as well use that in something."

I let the image in my mind slip to his, my spirit, thankfully, unharmed by the changes. The picture was dark, returning a few years back in the dungeons. He was kicked in our cell by a guard I made sure to snarl at before I scooped him in my arms, head falling above my heart. In that lie I was sliding down his thoughts, I brushed the blood and dirt away and inked it for him with my own blood, the darkness and cold wrapping us explaining why the markings looked like they were drawn by a shaking hand. Then, the Elayda I was playing lowered her head, mouth almost brushing Aedis's, hands running just above his beating heart, fingers sticky with black blood.

The image turned black after that.

"This image will be linked to the scar. If anyone tries to get into your mind to search for these tattoos, they'll be met with this lie."

His voice was a murmur laced with amusement as he queried, "And what about that darkness?"

"It will make them believe your mind is guarded and that there is no going deeper through that memory."

"That's not what I meant."

I hit him in the chest with quite good strength. I'd known what he was aiming for from the very first time, hinting at what happened after it all went dark. He laughed again and kissed my forehead, something he'd been doing quite much the past few days. Each time, I melted more. And hated myself for it.

His breaths were warm on my ears as he gently shifted his body, lips almost brushing my neck, locking us in the same position I held him in that image. He sniffed before he audaciously said, "You stink.''

I elbowed him in the ribs so hard his back arched back. If he was any average man, that punch would have been enough to have him pressed to the ground.

"You surely know how to treat a lady," I hissed before I slipped from his embrace and turned to the stream. It was a clear, silent command for him to get out so I could shower.

Leon winked, put on his threadbare shirt, stood, and voiced, "I'll be hunting something to eat. Meet me in fifteen minutes."

I didn't nod, only cocked my head as I watched him leave. It was until I heard him take off and into the other side of the forest, a few arrows slashing the air, that I removed my cloths, got into the cold water, and started scrubbing my skin.

Hay brushed my face, tickling my nose as the chariot bumped, the poor, wooden wheels most likely getting caught in one of the many wholes dotting the dirt road. Some horses nickered, jerking as they trotted before I heard the sharp sound of leather being snapped and our ride stopped shaking.

Leon and I were at thirteen hours of walking when we reached the small townlets surrounding Zadar-one of Vemor's many important neighbor cities-and knew there were no more woods to stick to or forgotten roads to take. So we prowled for a good half an hour around the outskirt of the villages, hiding between the enormous branches of still leafy trees, and waited. We were nothing but phantoms as we perched, each on a tree, and did nothing but observe every entrance or exit. When we caught a horde of villagers and farmers with chariots and carriages carrying their goods and followed by an impressive number of livestock that was heading the same way we did, we jumped. We were discreet and slick as shadows as we waited them to rest and feed their animals.

Then, we slipped into this one particular ride, swallowed in hay and dried grass and plants, going unseen to the barely twelve-years-old guarding it.

For the past four hours, I didn't lift a muscle, even our breaths mute as I made sure no one could pick our auras or scents. I doubted greatly they had any spirit elemental amongst them, but risks weren't something I was willing to take. All along, I was aware of eyes watching us.

The stalkers felt far, something similar to what Nuaira made me feel that day at the Fawn Market. I couldn't tell exactly where they were, seeming to shift wherever nature existed. They weren't dangerous-at least all of them except for one that was surveying us with nothing but a mere brush of darkness wafting through the air. It was so thin and feeble it couldn't even be picked by the horde, but I did. And kept clear attention to it, building a solid bridge between Leon's mind and mine just in case we needed to formulate a sudden plan.

There was nothing down that bridge but soft caresses of weak and random thoughts, something consciousness usually kept around its holder's mind to ward any sort of magic. We rarely talked through that bond, and turned to stare at each other's even more scarcely. The only thing that made me sure Leon wasn't asleep, catching up on rest this night, was the subtle circles his thumb did on the palm of the hand holding his.

I slowly turned my eyes to him, noting even through the darkness that his eyes were closed. Through the bond, I whispered with carefulness, 'How are you feeling, about going to his lands?'

For a good few heartbeats, there was no response past the dread. It had been stirring since a while now, surfacing and going down like waves, sometimes taking his entire focus, some others being pushed into the back of his mind.

At last, he replied, 'I don't know. This day will came sooner or later, and the sooner I can get rid of him the better.'

He opened his eyes, irises the color of old, red wine glowing in the darkness even when the tent woven of thick cloths covering the chariot blocked all sort of starlight. 'Not even twenty- one years in this world can prepare me for the day I'll meet him, Elayda.'

Not Celestia, not princess. Nothing related to who we were before leaving the Shimderian Forest. Even through that bridge, it was too risky to say our proper names, fear too heavy than to deny it.

'Well,' I let the words slip as gentle brushes down his thoughts. 'For the first five years, you didn't quite know you had to prepare yourself for this day.'

There was no smirk, no teasing gleam, no warm smiles when he replied, 'I didn't know, but this doesn't mean I particularly loved him. Father or not, he was always distant, always cold toward me, always staring at me with eyes that were hateful and keen as though I had stolen something precious from him.'

Leon added nothing more. The dread turned even darker, the aura swirling around him singing wrath and an undying lust to kill Mealin, to end him for once and for all. And then, there was a tinge of fear lacing it. Even when I tried not seeing his ideas, tried not slipping into his mind, Rhiannon's image flashed in front of my eyes.

Of course, he placed his sister before him, feared that she would be hurt because of him and the endless threat his father always shrouded him with.

When that darkness in his mind became too heavy, too cold for his own welfare, I joked, 'Gods, twenty one years. I never really considered you were this old.'

I could swear I heard him snicker in my mind. 'Surely, turning twenty-two next summer makes me old-so old not even our seven centuries friend seems to surprise you.'

I grinned, knowing fairly well those eyes could see every single detail of my face even when encumbered in blackness.

'You,' he drawled, 'should have noted this from my graying hair.' He pointed to his silver streak and I rolled my eyes.

'Bastard.'

It was the laugh that echoed within me-in my head and blood and bones and soul-that made me not punch him this time but allow a wave of magic to go through him, ravaging like a wild wave through his mind. He barely gasped and I pulled away, grin going wickeder.

'At least, this works better than trying to slap you.'

He laughed again and I made sure he heard clearly the jerk I slipped through that bridge. His eyes were glowing when he met mines, the word coming from his mind so different from what I just called him, not even trying to fire back. 'Lightbringer.'

The next thing I felt was the furious pounding of blood in my ears as he tugged on my hand, bringing it to his lips before he kissed it more than once. I was melted and burned and then brought alive as my heart fluttered with each single press of his warm lips on my cold skin.

Too much; I-we-were falling too much. I couldn't keep him going down this road, couldn't keep on leading him to his own destruction. He showed it more than spoke it, the way he held onto me in every bit of time together, the way he shone and looked alive whenever he smiled at me or kissed my face or embraced me. He truly loved me; I'd known that since the temple. And it killed every piece of me, of my heart and soul.

I would kill him in the end, would hold his heart in my hands only to burn it so bad it would turn to cinders and ashes.

But I didn't pull my hand away, didn't find it within me to push that warmth aside. I needed him, craved and wanted him as bad as he did. It was guilt that bit me and I hated myself for the way I felt. For the pain I would cause.

We didn't say a thing for another two hours, even when the horde stopped to rest and sleep. It was when I was sure everyone was asleep and that the men on guard weren't staring at our direction that I nodded. We were as mute as Death as we slipped away and into the small woods that the horde thought was a good idea to stop next to so the livestock could feed. I did wonder if it was mere coincidence, stopping here, or if my familiars had anything to do with it. Or even the Five, especially their King. After all that was happening, there was no telling which case was at play.

The moon was thinning behind the growing clouds, stars not so bright when they appeared every now and then, fighting the shrouds of smoke and fog swirling around them. But our eyes still saw with a sharp clarity-Aedis's mainly caused by the transformation, mines already blessed this capability by the Moon on my right palm.

I had been discovering lately just how much strength and tricks and magic there were within me, focusing majorly on the Mark. If those powers were my doom, I might as well learn how to use them for something worth it.

Owls hooted as we walked, and through my Ealas, I noted that these woods were massive enough to accommodate us for the night. If we kept on walking south, it would lead us straight to the small, rutting cottage we sought.

Tomorrow indeed would be the day I would have to deal with the witch my father had been furious knowing she was still alive. We never talked about her after that one time in the White Realm and I never pushed it. If there was anything crucial to know, I knew my king would have told me.

I moved, jumping over bumped roots and hating every instant my feet touched mud and whatever was on the ground. The sole of my shoes was so thin and deteriorated I could feel every disgusting thing under my steps. I tried not concentrating on that feeling, knowing I would vomit the birds Leon had hunted this morning, and kept my spirit alert around us.

The stalkers were still there, growing closer the moment. There was a simple and soft shift in magic around us, like the fabric of our world was scratched for a second, allowing someone to sneak through ti.

The dark presence became bold and stark and every bit demoniac.

I halted, claws surging from my fingers the moment that thing stepped through that gate, magic not far anymore. I spun around, fangs sharp and gleaming, Aedis already half-shifted, claws and fangs and talons ready to shred flesh.

The bushes behind us rippled, the silhouette of our stalker clear despite the black night. Iron-ore eyes stared at us, darkness swirling behind her as her pupils split like a cat's. She smiled and it was wicked and Cheshire-like and playing on my every nerve, teeth nothing less than razors in her mouth.

She launched at us.