The night air was thick with the scent of thunder and earth. Somewhere in the distance, the clouds cracked, and silver light danced across the sky like veins in a celestial body.
They had camped near the Vale of Echoes a place where whispers of the past never quite faded.
Aure sat near the fire, the shattered dust of the mirror still clinging faintly to his skin. It glittered along his cheekbones like constellations reborn. Lian watched from the edge of the camp, arms crossed, but not out of distance out of restraint.
He was remembering too much.
Not just the pain or the war. But the softness between battles. The scent of Aure's skin after rain. The way his eyes used to burn only for him. The nights when they had held each other so tightly it felt like the world couldn't pry them apart.
And then… the betrayal. The separation. The memory erased.
But tonight something in the air called that memory back.
"You're staring," Aure said softly without turning.
"I always did," Lian murmured.
Aure finally looked at him.
Their eyes held galaxies of memory, and Lian couldn't bear the distance any longer. He stepped forward slowly, the fire between them flickering higher as if it too held breath.
"Aure…" he began.
But words failed.
So he kissed him.
Not gently not like a question. But like an answer. Like something buried so deep it had to be pulled out with fire and teeth and soul. Aure responded instantly, lips parting, hands in his hair, anchoring him to the moment. It's like he feared he would vanish again.
And in that kiss, something ancient clicked into place.
The sigils burned on their skin Aure's glowing on his wrist, Lian's across his heart. The marks intertwined, golden threads weaving between their bodies like a celestial braid.
Visions exploded behind their eyes flashes of a temple falling, a throne made of bone, two souls dancing beneath a blood moon while the stars wept.
They gasped as they broke apart, breathless.
"I remember," Aure whispered.
"So do I," Lian said.
Behind them, Kael and Sylis stood silently watching not with judgment, but understanding.
The bond had returned.
Not only of body but of soul, memory and fire.
And somewhere far away, in the hidden citadel of the ones who had broken them, a bell tolled.
Because the bond that was once shattered had begun to burn again.