Chapter 236 TEIGEN LX
Flames tore through the roofs. Smoke filled the sky. Faint screams carried on the wind.
Ryker fell to his knees. “No… gods, no…” His hands dug into the earth. “My home…”
Elara covered her mouth, her heart pounding. She knelt beside him, but he pulled away.
“My father,” he said, his voice breaking. “They are all there.” He pushed himself up. “I have to go back.”
Elara grabbed his arm. “No. It is too late.”
He turned on her, wild with grief. “You would have me leave them?”
“You are not leaving them,” she said. “You are surviving. That is what your father would want.”
He shook, torn between grief and rage. “They burn because of me,” he said.
“No,” Elara said. “They burn because of Sawyer.”
Her hands held his face. “Do not let him break you.”
Ryker closed his eyes. He heard his father’s voice in his mind.
Run, my son. Live.
When he opened them again, there were tears there, but also resolve. “Then we run,” he said.
“Together,” Elara answered.
They turned away from the fire and went deeper into the forest.
…
The path grew rough, roots catching at their feet. The smell of smoke followed them.
Ryker’s breath was heavy, his hands unsteady. “I should have been there,” he said.
Elara held his hand. “Your father would not have wanted that.”
He said nothing. Thunder rolled across the sky and rain began to fall. First a few drops, then a steady downpour. Elara gasped as the water soaked through her cloak. Ryker stood still, looking up into the storm.
“It feels as though the goddess weeps,” he said.
Rain ran down his face, washing away ash and tears alike.
Elara stepped closer. “Or she hides us,” she said. “So we may live.”
He looked at her, then pulled her into his arms.
For a moment, they held each other while the storm raged.
Then he let her go and took her hand. “We must move.”
They walked on through mud and rain. The storm washed the smoke from the air and blurred their trail. At last, they found a small shelter deep in the trees. There they rested, side by side, silent and worn.
Outside, the storm went on.
Inside, they held on to what little they had left. Hours passed before the forest began to thin. The trees gave way to open fields, slick with rain and shining under the storm. In the distance, small lights flickered. A town rested by a bend in the river, its roofs wet and gleaming.
Elara’s breath caught. “Shelter…”
Ryker tightened his hold on her hand. “If we are careful. Inns bring questions. But we have no choice.” His eyes moved across the land, watchful. “Stay close.”
They crossed the muddy ground, the rain hiding their steps. At last they reached the edge of the town. Lanterns swayed outside shuttered homes. The streets were quiet, save for a cart rolling through the mud and a stray dog hiding beneath an awning. At the center stood a small inn. Its sign creaked in the wind. Warm light spilled from within, and the smell of smoke drifted out into the rain.
Elara shivered. “Please, Ryker…”
He nodded. “One night. Then we move on.”
He pushed the door open and led her inside.
Warmth wrapped around them at once. Fire crackled in the hearth. Voices filled the room, low and steady. A few heads turned as they stepped in, soaked to the bone.
Ryker’s hand rested at Elara’s back as his eyes swept the room. No soldiers. Only villagers, weary men with mugs in hand.
They moved to the counter. The innkeeper looked them over. “You’re drenched,” he said. “Bad night to be on the road.”
“Aye,” Ryker replied. “We need a room. Just for the night.”
The man glanced at Elara, then back at Ryker. “Your wife?”
Ryker paused for a moment. Elara looked up at him. Then he nodded. “Aye. My wife.”
The innkeeper shrugged. “One room. There’s food if you can pay.”
Ryker placed a small pouch on the counter. The man counted the coins and nodded. “Upstairs. Second door.”
Ryker thanked him and led Elara up. Their boots left wet marks on the wood. Behind them, the room returned to its quiet talk.
The chamber was small. A narrow bed, a chest, and a shuttered window with rain tapping against it.
Ryker closed the door and leaned against it, his strength fading.
Elara sat on the bed, her cloak slipping from her shoulders. Her hair fell loose, damp against her face.
“Ryker,” she said softly. “We are safe. For now.”
He crossed the room and knelt before her, taking her hands. “Safe,” he repeated, as if he did not quite believe it. He pressed her hands to his lips. “Then I will keep you that way. No matter the cost.”
She gave a small smile. “And I will keep you from losing yourself.”
The storm beat hard against the shutters.
Elara pulled off her soaked cloak and let it fall. Her dress clung to her, her hair heavy with rain. She watched him closely.
He stood near the door for a moment, then slowly pulled off his gloves. The wet leather stuck before coming free.
His bare hands shook. He clenched them, jaw tight. Small sparks flickered at his fingertips, then faded.
Elara stepped closer. “Ryker…”
He looked away. “It gets worse when I lose control. I feel it under my skin. Like it wants to break free. One mistake and everything burns.” He swallowed. “It’s why my people sent me away. When it first happened, they all looked at me like I was something cursed. I burned her home.”
His voice was rough, heavy with shame. He glanced at her. “I cannot let it happen again. Not here. Not with you.”
Elara reached for his hands and held them. She did not pull away from the heat.
“You are not a curse,” she said. “You are not something to fear. You are a man who has carried too much alone.”
He tried to speak but could not.
She lifted his hands and placed them over her heart. “Feel that. I trust you.”
He shook his head, but his strength was fading.
“You have never had rest,” she said. “Always guarding. Always afraid. But you can rest now. With me.”