Aelor sat hunched on the cold stone floor of the holding cell, his slender hands rubbing absently over the dry, cracked earth beneath him. The air was thick with the staleness of old stone and dampness, but it did little to calm the fury that churned in his chest. He could barely see the sky from the narrow window, just a sliver of fading light that told him the sun was setting, though how much time had passed since he was dragged into the cell, he couldn't say. The hours felt like days.
His mind was a storm of anger, hurt, and betrayal, spinning with thoughts of Rylan's actions, of the Council's decision to lock him away. He had been so close, so sure that he could make a difference, yet here he was—imprisoned, disregarded, powerless.
The sound of footsteps approaching stirred Aelor from his dark thoughts. He glanced up just as the heavy, wooden door creaked open. Two guards entered first, their faces grim, followed by none other than Rylan. Aelor's stomach twisted at the sight of him.
Rylan carried a small bundle in his hands: a warm bun wrapped in cloth and a steaming cup of water. His eyes met Aelor's briefly, but Aelor quickly turned his face away, unwilling to meet the gaze of the one who had betrayed him.
"Here," Rylan said softly, placing the food and drink down on the cold stone near Aelor. His voice trembled, as though he was unsure of how to proceed. "I… thought you could use something."
Aelor remained silent, not looking at the offerings nor acknowledging Rylan's presence. The betrayal still stung too much. The warmth from the bun, the comforting smell of food, felt like an insult. How could Rylan offer him kindness now, after what he had done?
"I know you're angry," Rylan continued, his voice strained. "I know it's hard to understand, but I—"
"Don't," Aelor cut him off, his voice sharp and full of venom. He finally turned his gaze to Rylan, but his eyes were cold. "Don't say it. Don't explain it away. You made your choice. And now I have to sit here, in this cell, because you couldn't find the courage to stand by me."
Rylan flinched at the words, but he didn't look away. Instead, he stepped forward, his face filled with concern. "Aelor, there's still a way out of this. There's still a chance to set things right."
Aelor raised an eyebrow, his heart pounding in his chest. "Set things right?" He let out a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like a snarl. "By what? By letting me rot here until the Council decides it's convenient to throw me in front of some dark magic to die like a sacrificial lamb?"
Rylan shook his head, his expression pained. "No, Aelor. That's not it. Listen, there's a way to get you out of here. A way to gain your freedom."
Aelor was silent, but his anger seemed to simmer just below the surface. He didn't respond, waiting for Rylan to continue, though part of him wanted nothing more than to ignore him entirely.
"If you agree to join the forces I command," Rylan said slowly, lowering his voice, "I can secure your release. I can put in a word with the Council. You'll be free to leave the cell. You'll be able to fight, to get back to the front lines, to do what you've always wanted to do."
Aelor's brow furrowed in disbelief, and he glared at Rylan, his mouth curling into a sneer. "Join your forces?" he echoed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Do you think I'm that desperate? To bow to the Council's orders and be part of the same system I despise? To fight under your command when you've shown yourself to be just another puppet of the Council?"
Rylan's face tightened, though he remained calm. "It's not about them. It's about you. I'm offering you an opportunity to act, to take control of your fate again. You know what we face—what's out there. I can help you. But you have to let me."
Aelor's chest tightened with frustration. "No. I won't be a part of their army. I won't follow the Council's orders, no matter who asks. Not after everything they've done. Not after locking me away for trying to save Aldoria."
Rylan's voice wavered as he stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "Aelor, you don't have to like the Council. You don't have to agree with everything they do. But you've always wanted to protect Aldoria. You said it yourself—you can't do it alone."
"I don't need their help to do what's right," Aelor spat, pushing the bun and water aside, standing up abruptly. "I was right before. I'm right now. They've wasted time, and it's only getting worse. You don't understand, Rylan. This isn't about me being free—it's about stopping something worse than we've ever faced."
Rylan paused, standing just within arm's reach, looking at Aelor with a deep sadness that seemed to cut through the tension in the room. "I know you're angry. And I know you feel like I betrayed you," he said softly, almost in a whisper. "But the only way forward is together. We can't do this alone."
Aelor shook his head, his frustration now boiling over. "You don't get it," he growled, his fists clenching at his sides. "It's *you* who don't understand. I don't need you or the Council. You've chosen your side, Rylan. And now you're asking me to bow to theirs? No. I'm done with them. I'm done with all of you."
He turned sharply, walking to the far corner of the cell, his back to Rylan, unwilling to face him any longer. The rejection stung, and his heart felt like it was breaking all over again.
"Take your offers and your help, Rylan. I don't want it," Aelor whispered, his voice raw, though he didn't turn around to look at him. "I'll find my own way."
Rylan's steps faltered for a moment, and then, in a voice that shook with anger, he called out to Aelor. "You think I'm the only one who's been wronged here?" His words echoed through the small, stone-walled cell, and for a second, Aelor's heart skipped a beat. He didn't turn around, didn't want to see the hurt in Rylan's eyes—eyes that he had betrayed, eyes that now blazed with frustration and something darker.
"You're always so blinded by your anger, Aelor!" Rylan shouted, his voice rising. "You push everyone away. You push me away. You reject me without a second thought, and for what? Because you can't see past your own rage? Because you're too damn stubborn to let anyone in?"
Aelor stiffened, his hands balled into fists at his sides, the weight of Rylan's words heavy in his chest. He didn't want to feel anything. He couldn't. But Rylan's voice, raw and pained, cut through the walls Aelor had carefully built around himself.
"You rejected me, Aelor," Rylan's voice broke, the pain evident. "I trusted you, and you broke it. You broke me."
Aelor's face flushed, his heart racing, and his breathing growing erratic. He couldn't stay silent anymore. Spinning on his heels, he faced Rylan, fury flooding through him. "It's not my fault, Rylan," Aelor's voice was thick with frustration. "I never asked for you to feel that way! You made this into something it didn't need to be! I never led you on! "
But before he could finish, Aelor's anger surged. In a flash of heated emotion, his palm struck Rylan's face with a sharp crack. The slap echoed around the cell like thunder.
Rylan stumbled back, his cheek burning from the force of the blow. For a moment, there was silence—just the sound of both their ragged breathing, as if the very air itself held its breath.
Aelor stood frozen, his own hand still stinging from the impact. The realization of what he had just done hit him like a cold wave, and he cursed under his breath. He hadn't meant to lash out like that, but his emotions had spiraled beyond his control.
"I... I didn't mean that," Aelor muttered, his voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, Rylan. I didn't—"
But Rylan's expression had shifted. The sadness in his eyes had been replaced with a cold fury, something darker now, a storm of emotion Aelor had never seen in him before.
"You think a simple apology will make everything better, Aelor?" Rylan's voice was low, a dangerous edge in his tone. "Do you think you can just slap me and then pretend nothing happened?"
Aelor didn't have time to react before Rylan closed the space between them in an instant, his grip seizing Aelor's neck with terrifying force. Rylan's fingers tightened, pushing Aelor back against the cold stone wall of the cell.
"You've hurt me in ways you don't even realize," Rylan hissed, his breath hot and uneven against Aelor's face. "And I've had enough."
Before Aelor could respond, Rylan pulled him in forcefully, crashing his lips against Aelor's in a desperate, violent kiss. The touch was anything but tender—it was angry, filled with frustration and a deep, aching need for something that Aelor wasn't sure he could give.
Instinctively, Aelor bit down on Rylan's lip, sharp enough to draw blood, a reflexive act of self-defense. The taste of iron filled his mouth, but Rylan didn't relent. He pulled back only slightly, and with a snarl, he shoved Aelor away, sending him crashing to the stone floor with a sickening thud.
Aelor gasped, his body slamming painfully against the ground. He barely had time to catch his breath before Rylan stormed towards the door.
"You don't get to decide what happens between us anymore, Aelor," Rylan spat, his voice a mixture of anger and hurt. "I've done trying to make you see. You're on your own now."
With a final, furious glance over his shoulder, Rylan yanked open the door to the cell and stormed out, the sound of his boots echoing down the hall, leaving Aelor trembling on the floor, his pulse pounding in his ears.
Aelor remained motionless for a long time, staring at the empty space where Rylan had stood just moments before. His breath was ragged, his chest tight with a mix of emotions he couldn't fully process. The taste of blood still lingered in his mouth, and the sting in his throat, from Rylan's hand around his neck, only added to the torrent of feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.
He had never meant for any of this to happen. None of it. But here he was, tangled in his own anger, his own confusion. And now, Rylan—Rylan was gone.
And Aelor was left alone. Again.