The sun was setting behind the branches of the Life Tree, casting long, dappled shadows across the grounds of Enaid. The air felt thick, as if the entire forest was holding its breath, waiting for the storm that was sure to come. Fey warriors moved in silent coordination, sharpening weapons, adjusting armor, and offering quiet words of encouragement to one another. Even the typically noisy Lesser Fey had quieted, as though sensing the gravity of the moment.
Dipak stood apart from the others, within the tangled and broken branches of the Life Tree. His eyes were distant, fixed on the preparations, but his mind was far away, ensnared in the chaos of his own thoughts. The sound of metal scraping against stone and murmurs of conversation barely registered. All he could hear was the rhythmic pulse of his own heart and the faint echo of Enaid's voice—reminding him to hold control, to hold everything together. He clenched his hands into fists, his fingers digging into his palms as though the pressure would stop the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
*"What if I lose control?" The thought circled endlessly in his mind. "What if something happens to Gytha? To Raven? To all of them?"
He had been through battles before, but this felt different. The splintering of his mind allowed him clear views into his others lives, letting him see hundreds of deaths he should have forgotten. This was more then just a fight to defend the Life Tree - it was a fight for everything, for the very future of Aer. As the Life Spark, the stakes were always that high. But now, with the fraying of the Weave, he didn’t know if he was strong enough to carry the weight of it all.
He swallowed hard, fighting the knot in his throat. Every part of him wanted to scream, to demand answers from the universe, but instead, he stood still, afraid that the smallest movement would set him off. It was the fear of losing control that kept him rooted to the spot. He feared that if he even blinked wrong, something would snap inside him, and that would be the end of it all.
The darkness inside him felt like an inevitable tide. There was no keeping the darkness back, but rather only methods to delay its arrival. Only the planting of the Life Seed could bind Erebos outside Aer's borders. Looking out to the painted horizon, he wondered how much longer before the Verdant came. What was keeping her?
He rubbed at the rows of lesser eyes that ached with fatigue. Everything in his body just wanted to lay down and give everything over to fate. And yet, in the pit of his stomach, he felt an undeniable desire to protect. To make sure that none of this—none of them—fell. Despite how much it ruined him, this all still mattered.
A soft rustling broke through his reverie, followed by a voice that seemed too calm for the moment. “Don’t let it eat you alive, Dipak.”
Dipak blinked and turned, not surprised to see Raven hunched down on a near by branch, regarding him with a cocked head and wide eyes. He hadn’t heard Raven approach, but then again, he never did. Raven had that quiet, commanding presence, one that made the rest of the world hush itself to honor the dead.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Dipak muttered, his voice heavier than he intended. He glanced back toward the preparations, his jaw clenched. He wanted to say more, but the words felt stuck in his throat.
Raven pushed off the branch and stretched himself out to his full height, his movements fluid and sure. “I can tell that you're drowning in your own thoughts. You've been lost in them long enough. The battle's coming, but you're not going to win it by worrying yourself sick.” Raven gave a small, rueful smile. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”
Dipak let out a shaky breath, not trusting himself to speak just yet. His eyes flickered to Raven’s, something unspoken passing between them. A long familiar joke regarding the way they worried like grandmothers. Raven, for all his formidable power, had always understood that sometimes the greatest enemy wasn’t the one in front of you—it was the one inside your own head.
Raven looked down at the ground, his claws tapping against the bark of the tree, before he reached into his tattered vest and pulled out a crumpled cigarette. He extended it toward Dipak without a word, as though it were an offering, and then lit one for himself, the faint glow from the tip catching the light in his dark eyes.
Dipak hesitated for a moment, then took the cigarette. The simple gesture—a shared smoke—was enough to draw him out of his spiraling thoughts. Something they had done together more then a thousand times in over a hundred life times. Smoking and silently staring at each other in the darkness.
They stood in silence for a moment, both of them inhaling the smoke and watching as the last bits of daylight slipped away. Dipak was acutely aware of the tension in the air around them, but for the first time in hours, the weight on his chest seemed just a little bit lighter.
“You know,” Raven said, his voice quieter now, “you’re not alone in this. No matter how bad it gets, we’re still in it together.” Raven looked to the sun as it slipped out of sight as he said this.
Dipak took another long drag from the cigarette, the smoke swirling in the cool evening air. He looked at Raven, and for the first time in a while, he found himself nodding, even if only slightly. “I just... I don’t want to lose anyone again,” he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Before he realized that he was going to say anything at all.
Raven met his gaze, his expression soft but resolute. “You don't. We separate for a time, but we always find our way back to each other again."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. It was a silent understanding between them—a bond that had been forged through years of shared lives, deaths and intimate moments. And in that moment, with the weight of the world pressing down on them, it was enough. Dipak could feel the tension begin to ease, the knot in his chest unraveling, bit by bit.
He could see this single thread that always held true.
Raven shifted, dropping his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it, extinguishing the flame. He gave Dipak a sidelong glance. “We’ve got a job to do, and we’ll do it. Together. No matter what happens, we’ll face it.”
Dipak took one last drag from his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. He let out a slow breath and looked at Raven again, feeling something like resolve settle over him. The fear was still there, lurking in the back of his mind, but it no longer felt like it had control over him.
“Thanks, Raven,” Dipak said quietly.
Raven gave a small, knowing smile. “Anytime, friend. Let’s make sure the Life Tree doesn’t fall.”
With that, they turned to face the gathering forces, side by side, ready for whatever the night would bring. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Dipak felt as though he might just have the strength to face it.
