Freya took a step back, her chin tilting defiantly. "I don't need saving," she said, even though her heart hammered like a war drum.
Kael's eyes flicked to the child in her arms, then back to her face, lingering with unsettling familiarity. "You don't even know what you are."
Her lips parted, but the boy tugged at her sleeve, whispering again, "You drew him, remember? Back when you thought it was just a dream..."
How could he know that? Her sketchbook was from her time in the modern world how could a child here have seen it?
Kael raised one hand slowly,
Kael's fingers brushed through her hair, removing a few twigs caught from the earlier scuffle. His touch was strangely gentle, almost reverent, despite the coldness in his gaze.
"You're reckless," he murmured, flicking away the last stubborn leaf. "Charging into Ysolde's territory with half-trained magic and no sense of preservation."
Freya scoffed, folding her arms but refusing to step back. "And yet, here I am. Standing."
He leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Barely."
Her cheeks burned, but she held his gaze. "You've been in my dreams since I was twelve. Maybe try being a little nicer to the girl who's been sketching your face for half her life."
That made something flicker in his eyes just for a moment. A crack in the ice.
Kael let out a low, almost amused breath. "Sketching my face? That explains the intense staring."
Freya's mouth parted, flustered. "I wasn't staring—"
He tilted his head, a smirk threatening the corner of his lips. "You still are."
Sir Gaven, still frozen, blinked once like he'd just realized he hadn't taken a breath in a while.
"I should've left that twig in your hair," Freya muttered under her breath.
"And I should've let the shadows eat you," Kael replied smoothly, stepping back.
The shadow that lingered in the darkness was stunned this side of Lord Kael was unfamiliar, even to the darkness itself. And truth be told, Kael was just as astonished. He found himself bickering with her. Her. It was so unlike him that the realization alone chilled his mood. Without a word, he turned away, his aura shifting into ice as he stepped forward.
Two steps in, he paused.
Then, over his shoulder, he cast a glance so sharp it nearly drew blood. A look that said plainly, "Are you waiting for me to call you? Dream on."
Freya had never felt so wronged. Being ignored dismissed was new territory for her. But she guessed it came with the royal genes she now bore, tangled deep with Queen Genevieve's pride.
Still, faced with the thick shadows and chilling aura that clung to the path ahead, the group had no choice but to follow. Like dogs with their tails tucked between their legs, they moved after him.
With the barrier broken, the path had cleared but the silence between them grew heavier.
Freya kept stealing glances at Kael, her thoughts greedy. Come on… with a body like that, who wouldn't? Years of pretending to flirt with her father's business partners for shopping money had taught her to fake a lot of things but not this flutter in her chest.
Kael glanced at her too.
This body, this face familiar. But the soul? Different. Genevieve had been graceful, composed… obedient. This woman? She was headstrong. Reckless.
And for reasons that irritated him, his cold heart noticed.
The house was empty eerily so.
Freya stepped over the threshold cautiously, her boots creaking against the decaying wood. Dust blanketed everything like forgotten time, cobwebs thick across the corners. This couldn't be the legendary home of Ysolde.
"It doesn't look like much," Sir Gaven muttered, hand resting warily on his sword.
"She ran," Kael said coolly, eyes scanning the shadows. "After all, it would take someone foolish or powerful enough to break her barrier."
Freya frowned. "So she knew we were coming?"
"Likely the moment we crossed the border," Kael replied, walking deeper into the darkened room with unshaken grace.
Virelle stepped forward, her expression strained. "My mother instructed me to find her… said she may be useful in breaking the curse." Her voice dropped as she glanced around. "But if she's truly gone…"
Freya noticed the slight tremble in Virelle's fingers. Even with all her strength, there were still pieces of magic too twisted, too ancient for her to undo alone.
"This was part of the plan," Virelle continued softly. "To blend in with the villagers, to find Ysolde's and learn from her. Even I can't unweave every curse... not without guidance."
A gust of cold wind swept through the room, snuffing out the only candle Freya had lit. Shadows danced on the walls.
Kael said nothing more, only looked toward the far wall where a strange symbol was carved into the stone one that pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
"She didn't leave without a trace," he murmured. "She left us a choice."
A sudden chill settled over the room.
Freya staggered slightly, clutching her head as a strange voice echoed within her mind neither loud nor soft, but ancient and woven with power.
"The cursed one…I knew you would come for me" Her eyes widened.
"But now that you've found me, I will not make it easy… Power must be earned, not gifted. If you want my help… prove yourself worthy."
The air around her grew dense, shadows curling along the walls like smoke. She could feel the others watching her, uncertain.
"Your task is simple…" the voice whispered, colder now. "Help recover the soul of Eldoria restore the village to what it once was."
The room began to spin. Visions flickered before Freya's eyes images of a vibrant Eldoria, full of light, laughter, and gardens. Then it all shattered into ash, replaced by broken homes and hollow-eyed villagers.
"Only when Eldoria breathes again, will I offer my guidance. Fail… and the curse shall consume you all." The voice vanished. Freya collapsed to one knee, breathing hard, as silence returned like a slap. Kael's gaze narrowed. "What did she say?"
Freya looked up slowly, her face pale but eyes steady. "She wants me to fix the village. All of it. Only then will she help us." A beat of heavy silence passed. Then Virelle exhaled sharply. "So be it… let's revive a kingdom."
You're on your own, folks. Good luck," Kael said flatly and in the blink of an eye, his body dissolved into air, shadows whispering in his place.
Freya stared at the empty space he left behind. "Coward," she muttered under her breath, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
A low voice echoed from nowhere cool, dangerous.
"Oh? You don't want to test me… do you?"
She froze.
The air itself crackled, like it held a grudge.
Virelle sighed, arms crossed. "Can both of you stop flirting with death and each other? We have a village to save."
Freya scoffed and turned, but her heart beat just a bit faster.
Sir Gaven leaned closer to her and whispered, "You sure he's not haunting you? Because that man is everywhere and nowhere."
Freya said nothing. She could still feel his presence lingering behind her ear… like he'd never truly left.