We enter what appears to be her living quarters—an inviting rug with blankets layered on the floor for cushions are placed around a low-burning fire. It’s simple, but somehow, it feels homely. She gestures for us to take a seat, her warm brown hands enveloping my own, thumbs brushing my knuckles, and squeezes them with tenderness.
The woman—Nehvara—moves to a smooth surface carved from the stone itself, and gathers drinking mugs that appear well-used, and brings them over. “I’ll pour us some tea,” she says gently, gesturing to the old kettle hanging above the fire. “It helps to calm the nerves.” She looks at us with a knowing smile, apparently aware of my apprehension.
“That sounds lovely,” I reply in a whisper.
Nehvara passes me a mug the color of clay, “Drink deeply, dear. You look like you need it.”
She looks to Kael, gaze assessing, and says, “I know you don’t think you need it, but you’re wrong.” Her knowing smile meets her eyes, and Kael takes a long sip from his mug.
We sit in awkward silence for a while, and I start fidgeting with the edge of my leather armor, desperate for something to do with my hands. I wait, trying to allow space for the woman to share why it was so imperative we came straight here. But my patience snaps—I let out an impatient huff and say, “We’re here bec?—”
“I know why you’re here, Lightborne,” Nehvara cuts me off. “And we’ll get to that,” she says slowly and deliberately. We settle back into silence, though I’m on edge.Why am I here if she won’t talk to me?
Kael looks perfectly comfortable, sipping his tea and allowing the fire to warm his bones.
“How long has the tether been active?” Nehvara asks with curiosity, looking between us.
Kael and I share a brief look, before I turn back to Nehvara. I know exactly what she means. “About two weeks, I believe.”Since the moment I heard his voice in my head when I thought he was dying.
“The first time I saw her,” Kael says. I whip my gaze to him in surprise, but he’s staring at Nehvara.
“The Sky called her home,” Nehvara murmurs softly to herself, eyes closed, “and she listened.”
She pries her eyes open, gaze landing on me. “The Lightborne and Sky must tread as one,” Nehvara recites in an eerie tone, and I swear that just for a moment, the fire dims, casting Kael’s face in flickering shadow—half-light, half-dark. Her voice drops low, seriousness etching her features. “The threads between you were spun in starlight long before your first breaths. But a tether is only a tether when it is chosen.”
“We didn’t choose this—it just happened,” I countered, confusion rippling through me.
“The tether is not woven yet, dear. What you’re experiencing now is simply an invitation,” Nehvara says flippantly and I have no idea what she means.
“An invitation to what?” Kael demands, leaning into Nehvara’s words.
“Into your Starbound Tether,” she says simply.
What in the fucking Stars?
I look to Kael, then back to Nehvara, bewildered.
“The Starbound Tether is a rare fated connection between two souls. I can feel it between you,” she closes her eyes, placing her hand over her heart, and inhales the rich herbs and spices from her tea. “I can see it, too.”
The invitation Nehvara spoke of, it hums in the space between us now. Waiting to be answered. Or rejected.
“You can see what?” I ask. “Can Seren see it?” If Seren can see the unseen, maybe she knows whatever Nehvara does, too.
“I can see the golden threads that connect you. Mind to mind. Belly to belly. It’s why you can feel each other's emotions, hear each other's thoughts,” she makes it all sound so simple. “There is only one missing—that’s how I know you have not yet chosen.”
I can barely breathe, my chest rises and falls too quickly. “Your hearts,” Nehvara says.
Kael doesn’t speak, but his fingers graze mine, tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. A tether not yet chosen, but there all the same.
“You have not chosen to give your hearts to one another. When you choose this, you will be Starbound for eternity. Always connected. Unbreakable. Always aware of the other’s presence, feelings, thoughts.Bound,” she says the last word with finality.
“What happens if we don’t choose it?” I ask cautiously. “If we don’t give our hearts to each other?” I can barely hear my own voice—blood rushes through my body, pulsing in my ears.
“Then the tethers will fray, and the bond will be lost,” she says, and my stomach knots with dread.I can’t lose him. “And you will defy the prophecy, of course.”
“How do you know this?” I demand. “Who are you?Whatare you?” My words come out like a rasp, scratching my throat on the way out.
“I’m a Cindrali Seer—I hold wisdom in one hand and foresight in the other,” Nehvara’s face is still laced with warmth and tenderness as she speaks, as if she draws no pleasure from seeing me spiral uncontrollably. Even so, I can’t stop the way my breath rushes in and out of me, panic settling into my bones. This is all too much. Too much pressure, too much at stake.
