Eiden's eyes opened.
Not suddenly — but slowly, hazily, as if rising from the deepest, heaviest sleep his body had ever surrendered to. His vision blurred at the edges, colors soft and unfocused, like the world itself was still deciding whether to let him return.
Warmth pressed around him.
Soft. Steady. Enveloping.
For a moment, he couldn't tell where he was. Or how long he had been lying there. Or even if he was truly awake.
The room was dim — lit only by the soft glow of a fireplace and the pale wash of moonlight slipping through a narrow window. Shadows stretched across the wooden walls, long and gentle, swaying with the slow dance of the flames.
Outside, the night was silent.
Inside, the air was warm.
Three days had passed.
Zeth's black castle stood quiet beneath the moonlit sky, its obsidian walls rising like a fortress carved from shadow. The halls beyond this room were still, lit by lanterns that flickered faintly against polished stone. But here — in this chamber — everything felt softer. Calmer. Almost unreal.
Eiden stirred again.
Warmth surrounded him — a blanket pulled up to his chest, a soft mattress beneath him, and the steady, gentle pressure of someone holding him. His cheek brushed against something smooth and warm, and strands of golden hair slid across his face like silk.
He blinked fully now.
His head rested against someone's chest, his body wrapped in a protective embrace. An arm was draped around him, firm but gentle, holding him close with an instinctive care that felt both unfamiliar and strangely comforting.
He lifted his eyes.
Selyndra.
She lay beside him in a simple white nightgown, the fabric soft and loose, glowing faintly in the firelight. Her expression was peaceful — serene in a way he rarely saw. Her breathing was slow, steady, each rise and fall of her chest brushing lightly against his cheek.
One hand rested on the back of his head, fingers curled gently in his hair as if she had been holding him like that for hours.
Maybe days.
She looked… calm. Relieved. Like someone who had refused to leave his side until she knew he was safe.
Eiden's breath caught.
He didn't remember falling asleep like this. He didn't remember being carried here. He didn't remember anything after the battle — only fragments, flashes, and then nothing.
But Selyndra had stayed.
Her golden hair fell across his face again as she shifted slightly in her sleep, tightening her hold around him. The movement was instinctive, protective — almost maternal in the way she cradled him, as if shielding him from the world even in unconsciousness.
The fire crackled softly beside them, its orange glow reflecting off the polished wooden floor. The flames cast gentle waves of light across the room, illuminating shelves, carved beams, and the faint shimmer of moonlight on the windowpane.
The night outside was deep and quiet.
Inside, everything felt safe.
Eiden exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from his body — tension he hadn't even realized he was holding. His muscles loosened. His heartbeat steadied. For the first time in days, his mind felt still.
The warmth of the room. The softness of the bed. Selyndra's steady breathing. The quiet crackle of the fire. The moonlight resting across the floor like a silver veil.
All of it wrapped around him like a cocoon.
And for a moment — just a moment — Eiden allowed himself to rest a little more.
Then Selyndra's breathing shifted.
Her fingers twitched lightly in his hair.
Her eyelids fluttered.
A soft sound escaped her — not quite a word, more like a sigh — and then her golden eyes opened, slow and unfocused at first, then sharpening as they found him.
"…Eiden?"
Her voice was quiet, rough with sleep.
He lifted his head slightly. "You're awake."
Selyndra blinked once, twice, as if confirming he was real. Her hand moved from his hair to his cheek, brushing lightly as though checking whether he was warm, alive, present.
"You're awake," she repeated, this time with relief threading through her voice.
Eiden swallowed. "I… think so."
Selyndra let out a breath she had clearly been holding for far too long. "Good. You scared everyone."
Eiden frowned faintly. "Everyone?"
"Zeth. Morvak. Vaelus. Iris. Dravien. Me." Her voice softened on the last word.
Eiden looked away for a moment, unsure how to respond. The fire crackled softly, filling the silence.
Selyndra shifted, sitting up slightly while still keeping an arm around him, as if afraid he might disappear if she let go too quickly.
"You were unconscious for three days," she said. "Your aura was unstable. Your breathing kept changing. We didn't know if you'd wake up."
Eiden stared at the blanket for a moment. "I didn't mean to worry anyone."
"You didn't choose to," she said gently. "But we still worried."
He looked up at her.
Her golden eyes held no anger. Only relief. And something else — something quiet and steady, like a promise she hadn't spoken aloud.
Eiden hesitated. "Did you… stay here the whole time?"
Selyndra didn't look away. "Yes."
"Why?"
She blinked once, as if surprised he had to ask. "Because you needed someone here."
Eiden opened his mouth to respond — but she shook her head lightly.
"You don't have to say anything," she said. "Just… rest. You're safe."
Eiden let out a slow breath.
Safe.
The word felt distant. Strange. But here, in this room, with the firelight and the quiet and Selyndra's steady presence beside him… it felt almost true.
Selyndra leaned back against the pillows, still watching him with calm, steady eyes. "If you feel dizzy, tell me. If anything hurts, tell me. If you need water, I'll get it."
Eiden huffed softly. "You're acting like I'm fragile."
"You are," she said simply. "For now."
He didn't argue.
The fire crackled again. The moonlight shifted. The room felt warm, quiet, and still — a rare moment of peace carved out of a world that had given them none.
Selyndra's voice softened. "Eiden… I'm glad you're back."
He looked at her.
And for the first time since the battle, he felt something loosen inside him — something heavy, something tired, something he hadn't realized he'd been carrying.
"…Me too," he said quietly.
Selyndra smiled — small, tired, but real.
The fire glowed.
The night deepened.
And in the quiet warmth of Zeth's castle, Eiden finally let himself breathe.