The night was unusually still in Storybrooke. A heavy fog wrapped around the streets, whispering secrets only Zelena seemed to hear. You stood at the edge of the clearing outside the town, clutching the small satchel of magical ingredients she had asked you to bring.

Zelena’s emerald eyes reflected the moonlight, sharp and calculating, but there was an uncharacteristic tension in her posture.

“You made it,” she said, her voice low, tinged with gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“I wouldn’t leave you to do this alone,” you replied, taking a careful step closer.

Her eyes flickered toward the circle of runes she had drawn in the dirt. “This spell… it’s dangerous. If I mess up, it could—” She paused, swallowing hard, “it could destroy more than just the threat I’m trying to stop.”

You knelt beside her, placing a hand gently on hers. “Then we do it together.”

Zelena’s gaze softened, the emerald fire in her eyes dimming for a moment into vulnerability. “You don’t have to stay. You shouldn’t.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you said firmly. “Not now. Not ever.”

A flicker of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “You really are stubborn, aren’t you?”

“Someone has to be,” you replied, hiding a nervous laugh.

The air around you began to pulse as Zelena lifted her hands, chanting in an ancient, melodic language. The runes glowed brighter, the fog swirling faster, forming shapes that were almost alive. You could feel the raw power thrumming in the air.

“Focus,” Zelena whispered. “I can’t do this without… without you grounding me.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. “I’m here. Always.”

As the energy surged, a shadowy figure emerged, a dark wraith drawn from the spell’s instability. Zelena’s eyes narrowed. “It’s trying to stop me. Stay close!”