The fire had burned down to embers, casting the room in a soft, amber glow that seemed to hold its breath. The shadows danced on the stone walls, stretching and shrinking with each pulse of the dying light. The silence was heavy, thick with the weight of what was to come, a weight that pressed against my chest, made it hard to breathe, and made every moment feel like an eternity.
We sat together on the fur rug before the hearth, our backs against the couch, our shoulders touching. Kaelen's arm was around me, his hand resting on my shoulder, his fingers tracing abstract patterns on my skin. His other hand held mine, our fingers laced together, warm and steady despite the cold that seeped through the ancient stones.
The night before the descent.
Tomorrow, I would walk into the Rift. Tomorrow, I would face the darkness that had been calling to me for weeks. Tomorrow, I might die.
But tonight, there was only the present. The quiet. The warmth. The man I loved.
