They followed behind the others, their steps slow, reluctant to break the quiet moment between them.
“Have you seen any of the others?” Zohar asked.
Phoenix shook her head. “No. But Drago promised to help find them.”
“So did Orion. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
They walked in silence a moment, the scent of salt and wild magic hanging in the air, the laughter of reunited friends behind them, and the soft worry of the unknown pressing at the edges of their hearts.
“What happened?” he asked.
Phoenix used her free hand to push her hair out of her face. “To the portal? I’m not sure. When I lost my concentration, I couldn’t bring everything back together again. It was like… like sticking my finger in an electrical outlet. Every nerve ending in my body was firing all at once. I couldn’t focus on pulling it back together.”
Guilt swept across Zohar’s face, and he tugged her to a stop. Her breath caught when he pulled her into his arms and held her as if he would never let her go. A tremor of emotion ran through him. Rubbing his back, she closed her eyes and thanked the Goddess that he was alright.
“It’s my fault this happened,” he finally said, his voice filled with anguish.
Phoenix pulled back and shook her head. “No! It is not your fault! We all decided to do this,” she replied with a fierce scowl.
He shook his head. “I should have been more responsible. I should have considered all the risks. I-I didn’t think things through. The only thing I cared about was having fun and going on an adventure.”
Phoenix’s heart twisted with compassion as Zohar’s voice cracked, the weight of his guilt clinging to every word like a drowning tide. He pulled her close again and held her as if she were a tether keeping him from being swept away in the storm of regret. And, in a way, she was.
He had always been so full of life—brash, brave, and brilliant. But now? Now he looked like a boy carrying the weight of a crown before he was ready.
She sensed it in the way his arms shook, in the way his voice wavered. This wasn’t just about the portal. It was about the responsibility, the pressure, the terror of failing the people he cared about most.
Phoenix exhaled slowly, her fingers gently brushing the nape of his neck in a soothing rhythm.
He thinks this was his fault… but we all wanted this. We all leaped with our eyes open—and yet, he’s the one shouldering the blame. That’s not fair. That’s not who he is… or who we are.
She pulled back slightly, cupping his jaw with both hands. “Hey. Zohar. Look at me.”
His golden eyes met hers, raw with pain.
“This isn’t just on you,” she said firmly. “We made this choice together. You didn’t drag us into that portal. We jumped. Okay, we more like fell—but you know what I mean. And, yeah, we were reckless… but we’re also growing.”
She swallowed, blinking against the sudden sting in her eyes. “I’ve never seen you like this before—standing here and holding me like the world might fall apart without you holding it together. And I want you to know something.”
“What?” he asked hoarsely.
She leaned in and whispered, “You’re not alone in this. You never were.”
Zohar closed his eyes, nodding, his forehead resting briefly against hers. A moment passed between them—quiet, warm, healing.
Juno’s voice in the distance broke the moment. “Hey, Zohar! Are you coming?”
Zohar laced his fingers through hers once more as they turned and began walking. The winding path back to the palace was alive with glowing tide flowers, their petals shifting color with each passing breeze. Bioluminescent vines curled along the edges of the marble walkway, lighting their path in cool shades of teal and soft violet. Above them, the sky deepened into twilight, stars blooming in the indigo sky like scattered jewels.
The murmur of voices and laughter, rhythmic and full of life, surrounded them. In the distance, sea birds cried out as they returned to their roosts. The scent of salt, ancient stone, and something spicy-sweet—kelp blossoms—soothed the tangle of emotions running through her.
Phoenix breathed it all in and let it anchor her. She had been adrift before, unsure of who she was becoming. But being here, walking beside Zohar again—it helped. They helped each other.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured.
Zohar squeezed her hand. “Me too. I kept wishing… if I just held on long enough, I’d see you again.”
She smiled. “You did.”
