The green fog of the Viper'sMire grew so thick that Azeal and Vaelora could no longer see the hooves of their Luminars. The air tasted like copper and old rot. Despite the wet cloth over their faces, the sweet, deadly spores began to seep into their minds.
Azeal felt the world tilt. His vision blurred, and suddenly, he wasn't in the swamp anymore. He was back in the palace training pits, but every door was locked, and a cold, dark shadow was whispering that he was "nothing." He struggled to breathe, his hand gripping the rope that tied him to Vaelora as if it were his only anchor to reality.
But for Vaelora, the hallucination was far worse.
The swamp around her transformed into the high balcony of Solthera. She saw Azeal standing at the edge, his back turned to her.
"Azeal!" she called out, her voice trembling.
He turned, but his eyes were cold—empty of the warmth they had shared in the ruins. "You were just a tool, Vaelora," the vision-Azeal said, his voice echoing cruelly. "A princess to open the gates. I never loved you. I'm leaving, and I'm never looking back."
In the real world, Vaelora's eyes glazed over. She began to slump in her saddle, her horse sinking deeper into the treacherous mud. "No... Azeal, please... don't leave me," she whimpered, her magic flickering uncontrollably, causing the swamp water to boil around them.
Azeal snapped out of his own darkness when he heard her cry. He saw her slipping, her face pale and covered in a cold sweat. He jumped off his mount, splashing into the waist-deep murky water, and grabbed her before she could submerge.
"Vaelora! Wake up! It's not real!" he roared, shaking her. But she was lost in the nightmare.
Desperate, Azeal pressed his forehead against hers. He remembered a time, years ago, when they were children. Vaelora had fallen from a tree and was too scared to move. He had sat beside her and sang a silly, ancient Drazhin lullaby their nurses used to hum—a song about a star that never gets lost.
With a cracked voice, Azeal began to hum that same tune. "Zala, zala, luminous star... no matter how dark, I know where you are..."
The familiar melody pierced through the poisonous fog in Vaelora's mind. The cruel image of the balcony shattered. She blinked, the violet glow returning to her eyes as she saw the real Azeal—wet, muddy, and looking at her with pure, terrified devotion.
"Azeal?" she breathed, her voice small.
"I'm here," he gasped, pulling her into a fierce embrace, ignoring the toxic mist around them. "I'm never leaving you. Do you hear me? Never."
The swamp hissed in frustration as the strength of their shared memory acted like a shield, clearing the fog just enough for them to see the solid ground of the distant shore.