The floor creaked under my boots as I stepped closer.He did not turn at first.But when he lifted his head, his eyes—red-rimmed and shadowed—met mine with a depth of sorrow I had not seen in years.
“I know,” he rasped, voice as rough as gravel.“It’s just...hard.I raised Marcellious as my own.And Roman—I’ve worked beside him these past three years.Guided him.I fought with him.Both of them are my sons in every way that matters.”
His words struck me like a blow.The man before me had done what I could not—stood in the light, loved them without restriction, and touched their lives openly.My chest tightened with regret, but duty did not weep.
“It’s because you love them that you must now step into the fire,” I said, resting a firm hand on his shoulder, anchoring him to the gravity of what must come.“It’s time for you to play for the other side.”
His brow furrowed, confusion flashing behind his eyes as he turned to face me.“The other side?”Suspicion and exhaustion tangled in his voice.“You mean… the side of evil?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.“That serpent bitch Alina has betrayed Balthazar.She’s hunting the blades now.Lazarus has already set pieces in motion.A man named John James will guide her to you.She’s vicious.Ruthless.Born of shadows.”
A flicker—no, a roar—of flame ignited in Dancing Fire’s gaze, the battle-hardened warrior rising beneath the sorrowed surface.“I can handle her,” he said, his voice edged with steel, his pain receding behind armor forged in duty and rage.
“I know,” I replied, the words laced with warning and faith.“But this is a game we must play carefully.She won’t see you coming.”
The weight of our shared history pressed upon us—two soldiers standing on the precipice of chaos, fates tangled in deception and blood.
I pulled him into a firm embrace, the clasp of warriors, of brothers.“Now,” I murmured, stepping back and locking eyes with him, “it’s all about playing this game.And playing it to win.”
I stayed with him until the next full moon, letting the days blur into the rhythm of old camaraderie—hunting, riding, fishing.The forest welcomed us with its scents of pine and loam, the air alive with the trill of birdsong and the rustling of leaves.We rode side by side, hooves pounding the forest floor, like the beating of war drums to come.
At night, under a quilt of stars, we shared stories around the fire, kindling flame, and memory.
On the eve of my departure, I spoke the words heavy with reminiscence.“Remember when we were in France, to destroy the French Timehunter society?”
Dancing Fire arched a thick brow, cautious but intrigued.“Of course,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking into a faint smirk.“It proved perilous for both of us.”
I nodded, but the smirk vanished from his face when I spoke.
“Elizabeth was the one who crafted the poison,” I said, my voice unwavering despite the storm I knew these words would bring.“She was the alchemist.She and her mother discovered the Noctyss flower—a rare bloom that only grows on Solaris.But when Isabelle separated the blades, the barrier between realms tore open...and the flower bled through.It grew here, too.”
His eyes narrowed, the flicker of intrigue in them instantly smothered by something darker—suspicion.And beneath that, I saw it—hurt.
His brow furrowed, lips pressed into a hard, thin line.“Why are you telling me this now?After all these years?”His voice was tight, laced with frustration and undeniable pain beneath that.“When I was finally starting to heal from the loss of Elizabeth...and her two boys.”
Elizabeth’s and my two boys, I corrected silently.But jealousy had no place here.Not now.Not with everything we stood to lose.
I inhaled slowly, grounding myself in the bond we’d forged—not just through friendship but through war, blood, betrayal, and brotherhood—a bond that had survived lifetimes.
“Because,” I said, meeting his gaze without flinching, “you and I have been more than allies—we’ve been brothers.And true brothers don’t keep secrets...not ones like this.”I paused, letting the weight of my words settle.“That’s why, all those years ago, I asked you to watch over Elizabeth for me.Because I knew she was in danger.Salvatore was hunting her, and I trusted you to protect what mattered most.”
Dancing Fire nodded, his gaze distant.“She was never mine to love.Just as Marcellious and Roman were never mine.We are but shadows cast upon this stage, bound to play the roles fate has chosen for us.”
A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I looked away, the weight of his words settling heavily on my chest.“Yes,” I whispered, my voice laced with sorrow.“I know...But that doesn’t make it any easier, Dancing Fire.Can you begin to imagine my pain?My heart breaks every time I see them, my flesh and blood, my sons...and they don’t know me.I never got to teach them to hunt, fight, and stand tall as men.I was a ghost, watching from the shadows while you stood in my place, guiding them, shaping them.”
My voice wavered, raw emotion pouring out as the truth sliced through me.“It shattered me...every day.But I bore it because it was necessary.Because this is the part I was meant to play.Just a player...just a shadow.No more, no less.”
Dancing Fire’s eyes softened, his shoulders heavy with understanding.Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken words and years of sacrifice.
On the day of my departure, I stood before him, my heart burdened with unspoken words, my soul worn from the weight of destiny.My voice was barely a whisper, fragile and fleeting like a dying breath.“It’s time for me to go.”
He did not look at me, his gaze fixed on the strip of leather clutched between his calloused fingers.His lips were pressed in a thin line, his jaw set in concentration.The sun danced on the blade of his knife as he sliced through the supple material, each strip a necessary fragment for the delicate dreamcatcher taking shape in his hands.His brow furrowed, lost in the rhythm of his craft as if avoiding the finality of my words.
For a long moment, the only sound between us was the whisper of leather and the faint rustle of wind.Then, without lifting his eyes, he spoke, “The moon is full tonight.I knew this day would come.Where will you go?”
“To Elizabeth,” I murmured the name, a plea that clawed at my chest.“To the love of my life.”My voice trembled, rough with the ache of longing, a desire that grew fiercer each day.
Dancing Fire’s hands paused, his fingers brushing the half-formed dreamcatcher.A shadow crossed his face, the ghost of a longing he could never voice.His shoulders sagged just slightly before he nodded.“Then you must go.You’re fortunate to have someone waiting for you.”
