Page 72 of Bound In Stone, Claimed In Fire

She kisses the tip of my nose, brand pulsing. “And thank you for relinquishing your gargoyle might to seal Nerezza. No illusions overshadow us now. You chose me without fear or guilt. That… that means everything.”

We share a small laugh, tension melting under the brilliance of morning. The courtyard’s ruins remain silent witnesses to our final vow. Eventually, we muster the energy to sit up, leaning against a broken column for support. She draws her cloak around her shoulders, while I retrieve scraps of clothing. We exchange shy smiles, as though we’re new lovers unashamed to be seen. The brand flickers contently, synergy swirling in a lazy orbit around us.

She glances at me, a contemplative light in her eyes. “So… the next step is truly ours to decide. Where do we go from here? Snowfall Glen, an uncharted land, or simply roam Protheka until we find acceptance?”

I let out a thoughtful hum, wings twitching.I can’t fly as I once did, but a gargoyle’s spirit still stirs in me.“I’d like to see how others beyond Prazh live. Maybe we can share our story, help them avoid illusions or condemnation. Show them purna and gargoyle can stand together.” I extend a hand, palm up, letting the brand’s glow reflect on my faint runes. “Whatever we face, we face together. If we find a place that welcomes us, we settle. If not, we keep searching. That is… if you’re willing to roam with a half-gargoyle who might struggle to keep pace.”

Her expression softens with a tender smile. She sets her hand in mine, brand shimmering. “I’m willing, Kaelith, mate of my heart. I’d roam the world with you, forging alliances, or living quietly if that’s what we choose. As long as we’re side by side, illusions behind us, the future is ours.”

Emotion thickens my throat. I draw her hand to my lips, pressing a reverent kiss to her brand. She exhales, brand flaring. The synergy hum quivers, reminding me how precious this union is—no illusions or forced bonds, just love.

We rise, helping each other straighten our disheveled clothes. My tail flicks once, an unconscious sign of readiness. Sariah retrieves her staff, eyes scanning the horizon where golden sunlight washes the rolling hills. She points to a path leading away from the ruins, winding through towering pines. “Shall we go?”

A wave of warmth surges through me. I nod, a smile gracing my lips. “Yes, let’s step into that new dawn.”

Our footsteps echo in the hushed courtyard, passing toppled pillars and scattered vines. The place no longer reeks of illusions or chaos. The breeze smells of pine and dew, and beyond the gate, bright sun lights our path. We walk hand in hand, synergy forming a quiet aura around us. My runes remain faint lines, but each time Sariah’s fingers brush them, I feel a gentle pulse of reassurance. She doesn’t need me to be a fully empowered gargoyle. She needsme—the man who fought illusions to stand with her.

At the threshold, we pause, turning one last time to watch the sunlight spill over the temple’s rubble. It’s the final image of a place that witnessed our worst nightmares and greatest triumph. Sariah leans her head on my shoulder, brand flickering with subdued contentment. “We’ve come full circle,” she murmurs. “Once, you woke in a temple to save me. Now we leave a temple behind, free of illusions. The cycle breaks.”

A powerful hush envelops me. I slip my arm around her waist, breathing in her comforting scent. “Yes,” I say softly, “the cycle breaks. We are free to forge our own fate.”

She lifts her face to mine, eyes shining in the morning sun. A small smile forms, hope radiating from every line of her expression. “Then let’s do it,” she says, voice tinged with excitement. “We walk forward together, as mates, forging alliances or quiet roads—whatever suits us. Protheka is vast, and illusions no longer chain us.”

I press a lingering kiss to her lips, a silent vow that I stand with her. The synergy in my chest flutters, a gentle wave of contentment. “Together,” I echo, voice husky. Then, clasping her hand, I guide us across the threshold, stepping from the temple’s crumbled stones into the bright expanse of day.

The pine forest opens around us, dappled sunlight painting the ground in shifting patterns. Our boots rustle over soft needles and moss, the brand’s gentle pulses marking the steady pace of our hearts. No illusions lurk in our periphery, no condemnation hounds our steps. The wide world beckons with uncertain possibilities, but we greet it with unwavering devotion.

After a time, we reach a fork in the path. Sariah laughs lightly, brushing windblown hair from her eyes. “Which way, do you think? East or south?”

I tilt my head, considering the shape of the distant hills. My runes tingle faintly, not with illusions but the memory of an ancient gargoyle sense for direction. “East,” I decide, pointing. “That route might lead us closer to rumored witch enclaves. And if not, at least we’ll see new sights.”

She nods, brand glowing in agreement, and we set off. Each step feels lighter than the last. Though my wings can’t carry me in flight, I feel no bitterness. Instead, the synergy hum in my chest reminds me of the flight we share—a spiritual bond that soars beyond illusions. Sariah’s brand brightens with each minute, as though thrilled by the open road.

By midday, we find a peaceful clearing, sunlit grass rippling in a gentle breeze. We pause to share a simple meal of dried fruit and bread. There’s banter between us, warm and teasing, about who’s more skilled at foraging or which outpost might be more welcoming. The brand pulses with each shared laugh, synergy dancing around our conversation.

When we finish, she leans against a mossy rock, eyes drifting to me with a mischievous gleam. “So,” she says, voice dropping. “That ceremony was quite the vow. And the lovemaking after…” She flushes, but her grin is pure delight. “I wonder if we’ll have time for another ceremony once we find a place that embraces purna and gargoyle unions?”

A chuckle escapes me, wings folding in a show of contentment. “I’d like that,” I murmur, stepping closer. My tail coils around her ankles playfully. “We can display the world how illusions lost and love won.”

She laughs, brand glowing in sync with my faint runic lines. Then her smile softens. “It’s so strange,” she whispers. “I never thought I’d find acceptance after leaving my coven, let alone find someone who loves me enough to risk illusions and condemnation. Yet here we are.”

I brush a tender kiss across her brow, heart swelling with pride. “We’re unstoppable when we trust each other.”

She hums in agreement, cheeks still warm from the memory of our morning union. The synergy hum stirs between us, a quiet undercurrent that never fully sleeps.We’re mates, wholly so.The knowledge fills me with a calm sense of purpose I never felt even in my gargoyle prime.

Eventually, we gather ourselves and continue east. The path snakes through ancient pines and rocky hillsides, each step forging a new chapter in our shared journey. We trade banter about the wonders we might discover: hidden valleys, bustling towns, or enclaves of purnas who might greet us with curiosity instead of fear. The brand pulses whenever we talk of forging alliances, as if to cheer us on.

That evening, we make camp in a sheltered grove. Moonlight bathes the glen, silvering the leaves. We share a small fire, cooking a humble stew from foraged roots and dried meat. Our conversation flows easily, peppered with teasing barbs about Drayveth’s sour expression and gentle recollections of the synergy that saved us from illusions. A comfortable hush descends after dinner, the brand quietly glimmering in contentment.

I watch Sariah poke the embers, a soft smile on her lips, and my heart twists with love so deep it threatens tears. Slowly, I move behind her, sliding my arms around her waist. She sighs, leaning back against me. The synergy hum pulses in a gentle wave, reminiscent of our vow.

Her brand glows, and she tilts her head to rest on my shoulder. “We’re truly building a life,” she whispers, voice trembling with awe. “It feels almost too good to be real.”

I press my lips to her hair, inhaling the faint floral note that clings to her cloak. “It is real,” I murmur. “No illusions. Just us.”

She smiles, brand flickering, and we share a tender kiss beneath the moonlit pines. My once-mighty gargoyle wings drape around her, a protective canopy, though I know I can’t fly. I have no regrets. The synergy swirling in my chest, the brand’s warmth, her laughter—these are worth more than any flight.

In that quiet moment, I recall how illusions once nearly devoured our bond, how Drayveth tried to tear us apart, how Nerezza threatened to chain me again.But love prevailed.The brand pulses a final testament, synergy glowing in a hush of contentment. We need no illusions or stone prisons to prove our devotion.We stand free, forging a path under the open sky.

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