Kael woke to silence.
No alarms. No guards. No screams.
Just dim light from the ceiling crystal, casting soft lines across the walls of a small isolation cell.
He was alone — but his chest ached like something inside him had been cut open and stitched shut with fire.
And his hands…
Still trembled.
---
Lira lay in a chamber across the hall.
He could see her through the transparent memoryglass wall — unconscious but breathing, pale but steady.
They had survived.
Barely.
---
Later, they were fed.
No questions. No lectures. The guards said nothing. Even the soulbinds had been loosened slightly.
It was too quiet.
Too easy.
They were being watched — not by eyes, but by intentions.
---
When Lira finally woke, Kael didn't speak first.
She did.
"You remembered, didn't you?" she said softly, staring at the ceiling.
He nodded.
"So did I," she added, voice distant. "But only parts. A tower. Fire. A choice I couldn't stop you from making."
Kael lowered his head.
"It was the right choice then," he said. "But maybe not the right one for us."
They sat in silence after that.
Not cold.
Not warm.
Just… aware of each other.
Like people who had once been gods, now trapped in cages.
---
Hours passed. Maybe days.
The ritual chamber hadn't changed them physically. But something inside had shifted.
Kael could feel it.
Lira spoke again, quieter this time.
"They want something from us. Together. Something they couldn't force before."
Kael's brow furrowed. "So they used memory to bind us?"
"No," she said slowly. "They wanted to see if we'd bind ourselves."
---
Later that night, Kael found a message.
Scratched into the underside of his stone bunk, nearly invisible unless the light hit just right.
"They watch dreams. Guard your mind. Not your mouth."
No name. No signature.
Just a single glyph carved beneath it — an unfamiliar symbol, half-flame, half-eye.
He traced it with his finger, and something in his memory twitched — but didn't open.
Not yet.
---
Lira looked at him through the glass.
Neither of them smiled.
But neither looked away.
---
The bond between them was forming — not through love, but through pain.
And trust.
Because sometimes, the only person who understands you...
Is the one who remembers your mistakes.