Chapter Thirty-Nine
Where the Shadows Go
fromHave You Someone to Protect?
by ©Amer
The moon hung low and gold in the night sky as Caelum stepped out of the bookshop and into the hush of Solara's quiet streets. He hadn't told Lhady where he was going, only that he'd return. Elias had watched him leave without a word, sensing that the man carried something heavier than parchment tucked in his coat.
Caelum turned down the lantern-lit roads, each step precise and deliberate. He passed beneath the whispering eaves of the inn where Silas was staying. He remembered the place from a passing mention. A warm light flickered in a second-story window.
He could've kept walking. But he didn't.
There, just visible through the glass, was a figure stepping out of a room. Malric.
Caelum's breath stilled. He didn't question his instinct. That had to be Silas's room.
He entered the building without hesitance. The stairs creaked under his boots as he climbed. At the door, he knocked. Once. Twice. Then a third time—firm, measured. No answer.
A moment passed.
The door down the hall creaked. Footsteps approached.
Malric appeared, frowning faintly. "You just missed him. Silas is in a meeting right now. Something he said couldn't be interrupted."
Caelum nodded once, unsurprised. "That's fine."
Malric tilted his head. "Do you want me to tell him anything?"
Caelum paused. Then, quietly, "Just say this: thank you."
Malric blinked, the response clearly not what he'd expected. "That's it?"
"That's enough." Caelum met his gaze with a calm that left no space for questioning.
Malric, ever perceptive, didn't press. He only gave a slow nod. "I'll make sure he hears it."
Caelum's expression didn't shift. But something in his shoulders eased.
Without another word, Caelum turned and stepped into the darkness again, this time away from the inn, away from the bookshop, and further still from Solara's burning lamplight.
He vanished into the night without a map, except for one name and one place only he knew how to find.
At the bookshop, Elias moved through the closing routine with practiced care. When the final candle was snuffed and the door gently locked, he lifted a single hand.
A fine shimmer laced the air around the shop's frame, arcing over the roof in a low dome of protection. It glittered for a heartbeat, then faded into invisibility, but the air still buzzed faintly with its presence.
Elias exhaled, gaze lifting toward the stairs.
"Sleep well, Lhady," he murmured to the silent floor above.
Ten days until the full moon.
And tonight, she'd slept easier than she had in weeks.
Morning arrived soft and cool. Lhady woke early—earlier than usual—and for the first time in many nights, her limbs felt rested, her breath steady. No shadows from dreams. No pounding heart.
She stretched, yawned, and padded barefoot down the wooden stairs.
"Good morning, Elias," she greeted gently as she passed into the kitchen.
He looked up from the book he'd already opened. "You're up before the sun finishes climbing. That's a first."
"I slept well," she admitted, brushing her hand over the smooth counter.
As she made breakfast, her gaze kept darting to the window—the one that looked out onto the path leading up to the shop. She didn't realize how often she looked until she caught herself lingering there between each spoonful of porridge. Like she was waiting for someone who might come up the path with a pail of water from the well, not in grand entrance, just quietly… naturally. Just Caelum.
Elias noticed, of course.
"You're stirring more than you're eating," Elias said without lifting his eyes from his book.
She blinked and sat straighter. "I'm not waiting for anyone."
"He left last night," he said finally, setting down a spoon. "Didn't say where he was headed. But he said he'd come back."
"I'm not worried," she said automatically.
"Didn't say you were."
She didn't meet his eyes.
Their footsteps scuffed softly on the training ground's stone as the sun climbed.
Elias held up a containment disc. "Alright. Show me what you've got."
Lhady steadied her hands. Breathed.
This time, her magic answered—not with defiance, but like a tide pulled in rhythm. The sigil glowed, held, and settled. Not a flicker of loss. Not a surge out of reach.
Again. And again.
By the sixth time, Elias gave a low, impressed whistle.
"You know, maybe we should keep Caelum away more often," he teased. "You work best when you're not distracted by that brooding presence hovering around like a lost storm cloud."
Lhady rolled her eyes, but her grin was undeniable. "He does not brood."
"Oh, he broods. Quietly. Elegantly. Like he's about to write poetry about dusk."
Elias clapped once, then raised both brows. "Looks like you're better when Caelum isn't around to distract you."
She gave him a withering glare. "He doesn't distract me."
"Oh, no. Of course not," Elias replied, nodding solemnly. "Just so happens the only time you've done it perfectly was when he's not even in town."
Lhady rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress her smile. She ran the containment again. Then again. She repeated the process with care, her magic steady, like she had finally memorized the shape of her own strength.
After the tenth successful repeat, Elias gave a slow whistle.
"Good job," he said genuinely. "You're not done yet. You'll need at least twenty-five more clean attempts before your control becomes muscle memory."
Lhady nodded. "I know. I'll do it. I want to."
She felt the warmth in her chest stir—because the success wasn't just for herself. She wanted to tell him. She wanted him to see it.
Elias seemed to catch the flicker in her smile and didn't push further. But before they left the training field, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
The day wound down.
The bookstore reopened. Customers came and went.
But every time the bell above the door chimed, Lhady's head turned just a little too quickly.
She stayed behind the counter even as the sun dipped and the last readers filtered out.
Elias glanced at the clock. "You know the shop's been closed for fifteen minutes already."
Lhady blinked. "Oh."
"I'd suggest locking the door unless you're planning to offer midnight book recommendations."
She didn't answer at once, just quietly walked to the door and turned the lock. The click was final.
Halfway back to the counter—
A knock.
She turned quickly, heart skipping, and rushed to the door, smiling, almost speaking his name.
She opened the door. "Cae—"
But it wasn't him.
A man stood there, young, his golden hair dampened by the night. His presence was composed, as always—but there was a hesitation in his voice that hadn't been there before.
"Is Caelum here?" Silas asked softly.
Lhady's shoulders sank a breath. "No. He's not."
Behind her, Elias stepped into view. Watching.
Silas looked from one to the other, then shook his head faintly. "I see. Then… nothing. I just—never mind."
Lhady hesitated.
She wasn't angry. Not anymore. Just… off balance.
But as she began to close the door, a hand gently caught hers.
"Wait," Silas said.
She looked up.
He wasn't forceful. His touch was light, barely there—but something in his expression asked a question she wasn't sure she had an answer to.
"…Can we talk?" he asked.
Just for a little while.