Élodie's feet barely made a sound on the path that wound through the outskirts of Saint-Céleste. The village, now a mere memory of what it once was, stood silent in the early evening light, the distant thrum of war seeming like an echo from another time. Every step she took felt like a step further from everything she had ever known—and, perhaps, everything she had ever loved.
Her heart still ached from the conversation with Luc. His words had stung, not because they were untrue, but because she had seen the same hesitation, the same fear, mirrored in his eyes. He had given her a choice, and she had chosen to walk away.
As she moved deeper into the woods beyond the village, Élodie pulled the letter from her pocket once again, her fingers trembling as she read it over. Liam's words seemed almost too surreal to be real, but they were. He was waiting for her in the hidden ruins beyond the border, the last place anyone would expect to find him. And yet, she knew the risks. The terrain was treacherous, the area now controlled by enemy forces, and the stakes had never been higher.
But there was no time to dwell on what-ifs. The clock was ticking, and every moment she hesitated was a moment that Liam could fall deeper into the hands of their enemies. It was a choice between holding onto the past or stepping into the future—no matter how uncertain it might be.
The evening air grew colder as she continued her trek. Nightfall crept steadily across the horizon, and soon, the once familiar path became unfamiliar—twisted, shadowed, and dangerous. Yet, Élodie pressed on. She knew that the farther she went, the less chance she had of returning to the safety of Saint-Céleste. But for all the danger that lay ahead, there was one thing she couldn't shake: the need to find Liam.
In the darkness, she didn't hear the footsteps approaching behind her until it was too late. A hand clamped over her mouth, dragging her backward into the dense underbrush, her body stiff with panic.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as she fought to break free. She kicked, punched, and twisted in the grip of whoever had caught her, but the arm around her waist tightened like steel. Her vision swam as she struggled to breathe, her chest tightening as the scent of pine and sweat flooded her senses.
"Shh," a voice murmured in her ear, a voice she recognized all too well. "It's me."
The pressure around her waist eased, and Élodie spun around to face him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. There, standing in the moonlight with an unreadable expression, was Luc.
"You shouldn't have followed me," she said sharply, stepping back. Her pulse raced, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and anger. "I told you to stay behind."
Luc didn't move. His eyes were full of something she couldn't quite name—maybe it was frustration, or maybe it was something deeper. "And I told you that I wouldn't let you go alone. Not when we're this close. Not when it could all fall apart."
Élodie took a deep breath, her hands still trembling. "I have to do this, Luc. I can't stay. Not after everything we've lost."
His jaw clenched, but his voice remained calm, almost too calm. "I know. But you don't get to make this decision alone. You don't get to leave without facing the truth of what this war will do to you—and to us."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them thickened with unspoken words, memories of times when their bond had been strong—strong enough to withstand anything. But now, there was a distance between them that even silence couldn't fill.
"You'll get yourself killed," Luc finally said, his voice barely a whisper in the night.
Élodie shook her head. "I can't let him go, Luc. Not after everything. I have to find him."
Luc's gaze hardened, his hand falling to his side. "And what happens when you find him, Élodie? What will you do then? If the war is over, and you've lost everything—what will you have left?"
She met his gaze, and for a long moment, she saw the man who had once been her world. His face was weathered, his eyes full of pain and exhaustion, but in that moment, it was clear: he cared, even if it was too late to change the course they were on.
"I don't know," she said quietly, the words tasting bitter in her mouth. "But I'll figure it out. I have to."
Luc's eyes softened, just for a moment, before his expression hardened once more. He stepped forward, his hand reaching for her. "Then we go together. If you're going, I'm not letting you walk into hell alone."
Élodie felt her chest tighten as she stared at him, the weight of his words settling heavily on her shoulders. She had wanted to do this alone, wanted to keep her feelings buried beneath layers of duty and desperation. But here was Luc, offering her one final chance to stand together.
"Alright," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Together."
Without another word, they turned and began walking into the darkness, the sound of their footsteps the only thing that could drown out the storm of emotions swirling inside her. Ahead, the ruins awaited, and with them, the answers to the questions that had haunted her for far too long.