You had hoped you would never see death so near again, yet here it was.

Smoke coiled through the trees like a living thing, choking the stars from view. Screams rang out in the distance—shattered, ragged cries of those you once called kin. Fire devoured the village your people had called home for centuries, flames swallowing the sacred groves and altars of stone and vine. You had only felt it in your bones right before it began… perhaps you would have noticed sooner, had you not been so distracted by your secret meetings with Aric.

After all, this was no natural reckoning. This was an act of war. This was punishment. Your punishment. The day had finally come for you to pay for disturbing the balance.

——— ~.’- ———

Weeks ago, Aric’s father, the king, grew suspicious of his son’s frequent disappearances. Since the day Aric had returned from the battlefield, the sole survivor of the Battle of Eres, something in him had changed. He laughed more. Disobeyed more. Disappeared into the forest every night without reason, no guards, no destination. The king had seen it before in other men. This madness called love.

So the king sent a tracker, and the man returned with a strange tale. A hidden clearing tucked behind a village deep in the forest. A witch, the tracker had called you.

The king didn’t ask any further questions. He didn’t need any answers. He didn’t even need to summon Aric.

He needed to summon flame.

——— ~.’- ———

Aric woke in a cold sweat, as if his body was telling him he needed to get up. His eyes opened wide, breath tearing from his chest.

Outside, far on the horizon, a thin line of smoke curled into the sky. It could’ve been anything, really. A ranger’s campfire. A village burning its winter stores. A trick of the wind.

But Aric stilled at the sight of it— and in the hollow of his chest, something pulled. He knew. Even before reason caught up to instinct. Even before the fear had a name. It had to be you.

He ran.

Down the corridors. Past guards who called his name. He didn’t stop to dress fully, only throwing a cloak over his shoulders and fastening his sword belt. He could smell the forest burning. Your forest.

He found you by instinct.

You stumbled through the trees, coughing, tears streaking down your soot-darkened cheeks. The willow called to you like it always had— your sanctuary, your hearth, your home. But the forest you knew was dying around it, fire at its edges like a siege.

And there he was.

Aric stood beneath the branches like he’d been waiting forever, ash clinging to the curve of his jaw, the hem of his cloak scorched and torn. When he turned at the sound of your steps, your heart cracked at the look in his eyes.

“I didn’t know,” he said hoarsely, stumbling toward you. “I didn’t know they would come. I swear to you, I didn’t know.”

His hands found yours, blood-warm and trembling. You didn’t stop him. Couldn’t.

“I came to get you out,” he breathed, voice splintering. “I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll burn the whole kingdom down if it means you live.”

In that moment, all you could think about was how this was all your fault. You thought if you loved him hard enough, the earth would forgive you for gifting him with immortality. You thought if you were kind enough, the old gods would look away. But they hadn’t. And now your people were ash.

Aric cupped your face in both hands, his palms blistered, warm with recent flame, but gentle. Reverent. Like he’d fall apart if he let go.

“I never wanted this,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours. “Just you. Only ever you.”

The willow above you groaned, old bark creaking like bones. Leaves fell like tears. Somewhere, the fire roared louder. You could feel the ground dying beneath your feet. The sacred roots blackening.

And still, he held you.

“Come with me,” Aric whispered. His voice cracked on the words. “Please.”