After the trial, Elara and Aldric returned to the Shadow Hall alone.
She sat by the great fire, arms wrapped around her knees. "Those illusions… they weren't just fears. They were things I've thought. Things I've tried to forget."
Aldric didn't answer immediately. He removed his gloves and sat beside her, the fire casting golden edges on his normally shadowed face.
"I remember my own trial," he said after a while. "The fire showed me the death of my kingdom… by my own hand."
She glanced at him. "What did you do?"
"I ruled anyway."
Silence stretched between them like a wound.
Then he turned, reaching out. His fingers brushed her cheek. "You have more power than you realize. But power without clarity corrupts."
She looked into his eyes—saw centuries of pain, fury, and loneliness behind their dark gleam.
"Then teach me clarity," she whispered.
His voice was barely audible. "That's what terrifies me most. That you'll see me clearly… and leave."