You ran until the forest swallowed every sounds, as cracking branches and the harsh chorus of men’s shouts, now fading into distant echoes. They had tried to bind you, to break what they feared. The power you held. A power still dormant—terrible, ancient, and not meant for their world.

The Forbidden Forest welcomed you like an old friend. You stumbled forward—

And the earth answered. Roots rose, coiling gently around your limbs. Not to restrain, but to cradle. A pale flower bloomed beside you, its petals exhaling a perfume so sweet, it stole your breath—and consciousness. The last thing you saw was a silhouette, tall and still, waiting. Watching.

When you awoke, furs cushioned your body. Above, a vaulted ceiling shimmered with moss and stone. Firelight flickered. Roots that had once bound your wrists now recoiled as your eyes opened, as if recognizing you. And in the shadowed corner—he stood.

Tall beyond reason. Hair like ash, eyes of liquid silver. He moved like time bent around him. Yet you weren’t afraid. Your heart knew what your mind had not yet remembered: Elias. The name surfaced in your soul like a song half-remembered, carried through lifetimes. A name you had whispered in other tongues, in other centuries.

He stepped closer, quiet as breath. Crouched beside you, gaze unreadable.

“I feared you'd run,” he said softly, voice edged in sorrow. “You'd have every right to, before remembering what we are.”

You stared. He was no human. A Silverblood. A name buried in old stories, immortal and violent creatures. Always told to warn, to not end up as their meal.

“When the world turned on my kind, humans buried me. Hoping you'd never return. Hoping we’d never find each other.”

His eyes flicked to the living roots threading through stone, responding to his nearness—as if nature itself remembered him.

“But alas our fates intertwined.”

He reached toward the flower beside you, fingers brushing its bloom.

“You’ve felt it all your life, haven’t you? That echo inside you that never quieted. That voice that wasn’t yours, the gap in your soul.” He looked at you then—not as stranger, not even as savior.

“You are the missing part of me.”

He stood, his cloak whispering against stone. His silver eyes fixed on yours.

“We were never meant to be apart,” he murmured. “Not in this life, or the next. Now that we're whole again, we can unleash our power.”

His hands cradled your face—gentle, reverent. And in that moment, something ancient stirred in your blood. You saw flashes: a battlefield bathed in twilight, a kiss beside a river of stars, a goodbye you never wanted to give. You had lived and died with him. You had always found your way back to him.

His lips brushed your own.

"Tell me what your heart seeks. Revenge? Freedom? Redemption? You'll have it all. They will pay for their sins, for tearing us apart."

And in the silence that followed, you understood. Whatever came next—ruin or redemption—you would face it together. Again. As you always had, and as you always would.