The Six months since Aetheros had crowned Asher Veinheart as High King had been a whirlwind of progress and purpose. Days blurred together in a cycle of relentless training, governance, and preparation for the challenges ahead. Asher had grown into his role, but the weight of kingship pressed heavily on his shoulders.
His transformation was undeniable. His once-lean frame was now that of a warrior king—a towering figure of hard muscle and unyielding resolve. The dark purple runes etched into his skin pulsed constantly, a visible testament to the immense power he wielded and the trials he endured.
Asher’s mornings began with grueling training under Jorven’s watchful eye. Alongside Vicky, he endured punishing body-hardening exercises, each session punctuated by the sharp cracks of a bamboo-like rod that left welts across his skin.
“Again!” Jorven barked, his gravelly voice carrying over the sounds of exertion. “A king who cannot endure pain cannot endure war!”
Vicky gritted her teeth, her glowing runes flaring in defiance as she pushed through another set of exercises. Asher, silent but determined, bore the punishment without flinching, his resolve unshaken.
By night, Elara’s lessons in Voidcraft demanded every ounce of focus he had left. Her instructions were clear but brutal: survive until dawn without being found. Each night, she hunted him like a shadow, finding him with unnerving ease.
“Voidcraft isn’t about strength,” she had told him after another failed attempt. “It’s about becoming one with the unseen. If you can’t master that, the Void will devour you.”
Despite the strain of his training, Asher’s mastery over fire, water, and ice manipulation had reached new heights, and he had begun to grasp the basics of Voidcraft. Earth manipulation was slowly bending to his will, though it demanded an entirely different kind of patience and control.
While Asher trained, Aetherhold thrived. Its population swelling to nearly 100,000 as refugees, craftsmen, and warriors poured in from across the world. They came from every corner of Aeloria, drawn by tales of safety, renewal, and the light of the purified Aether Vein that now stretched across the reclaimed Gloamfields.
Humans, versatile and diverse, made up a large portion of the newcomers. Farmers, builders, and smiths brought their trade to the city, while others sought refuge and purpose in the growing army. Their adaptability allowed them to quickly integrate into Aetherhold’s burgeoning society, contributing to its rapid expansion.
The towering and steadfast Durnvar were an imposing presence, their stone-like skin and glowing crystalline growths making them natural defenders of the city. Many worked tirelessly to fortify the city’s walls, their deep connection to the land aiding in the construction of structures that would endure for generations.
Above the city, Vaelari glided gracefully on shimmering, feathered wings, their luminous eyes watching over the bustling streets below. These Skyborne brought news from distant lands, their mastery of wind and light magic helping to reinforce Aetherhold’s defenses and streamline its construction efforts.
In the shadows, the elusive Gloamkin moved with quiet precision. Small and wiry, their pale, almost translucent skin and reflective eyes made them stand out, though their natural affinity for stealth and survival quickly earned them respect. As scouts and spies, they were indispensable in monitoring the edges of the Gloamfields for signs of the Veinforged.
Near the newly constructed floating farmlands, Morvani tended to irrigation systems and waterways. Their scaled skin shimmered under the sun, their amphibious nature allowing them to cultivate and maintain the city’s raised platforms with ease. These platforms, suspended by Aetheric magic, housed vibrant orchards and fields that fed the growing population, a marvel of ingenuity and magic.
The Eryndar or frostborn, tall and broad with their frost-kissed skin and hair as white as snow, lent their strength to Aetherhold’s defenses. They worked alongside the Durnvar, their icy resonance calming disrupted Veins and reinforcing the magical wards protecting the city. Their presence was a constant reminder of the alliance forged in the frozen north, a symbol of unity and shared purpose.
This convergence of races turned Aetherhold into a beacon of hope and cooperation. Each brought unique skills, traditions, and insights, creating a city that thrived not only on strength but also on diversity. The streets teemed with life—stonecutters and scholars, traders and magicians working side by side, building not just walls but a brighter future.
The Stronghold had evolved into a marvel of ingenuity and defiance, a fortress city like no other. Towering black ice walls stretched upwards of 100 meters, their sheer surfaces shimmering with a faint, crystalline sheen. Eternal Aetherfire crowned the walls, flickering with an unyielding brilliance that seemed to dance against the night. At their base, molten Aether moats churned and glowed, their searing heat and blinding light forming an impenetrable barrier to all who dared approach.
To solve the problem of sustenance for its rapidly growing population, the people of Aetherhold turned to the limitless potential of Aether itself. Raised platforms, suspended high in the air by pure Aetheric energy, served as farmland, orchards, and water reservoirs. These levitating fields, irrigated by intricate Aether-powered channels, produced bountiful crops year-round. Vibrant green fields and rows of fruit-laden trees stood in stark contrast to the imposing black walls, a symbol of life flourishing amidst the city’s grim defenses.
Massive watchtowers, also constructed of black ice, rose at key intervals along the walls. Each tower was an imposing spire, reinforced with enchantments and equipped with siege engines capable of hurling stones and magic far beyond the city’s boundaries. Aetheric artillery—designed to channel raw Aether into devastating blasts of energy—was manned by highly trained battlemages, ensuring that Aetherhold could strike with precision and power at any approaching threat.
The Inner Wall, enclosing the palace and command center, shimmered with embedded Aether crystals that pulsed like a heartbeat, their light casting long shadows across the city’s seat of power. Beyond it, the Middle Wall protected the bustling residential and business districts, its surface reinforced with additional enchantments. The molten moats here burned brighter, their heat a palpable reminder of the city's strength.
The Outer Wall, still under construction, loomed over the growing outskirts. Its massive drawbridges at the cardinal directions connected the outer ring to the rest of the city. As it neared completion, the outer defenses promised to create an unbreakable shield around Aetherhold.
With its ingenious infrastructure, towering walls, and cutting-edge defenses, Aetherhold was not just a city. It was a declaration to the world: life would flourish, even in the shadow of war, and the darkness would never breach its gates.
Brynn had taken charge of the Aetheric College, her vision of a school to train builders, soldiers, and scholars becoming a reality. “The future of this kingdom depends on more than walls,” she had argued. “We need minds and magic working together to sustain it.”
Now Asher sat at the head of the long oak table in the command center, maps and blueprints spread before him. His generals—Kaelen, Jorven, Elara, Dravyn, and Malisya—listened intently, their faces a mixture of concern and resolve. Brynn and Vicky flanked him, their presence steady, though tension flickered in their eyes.
Kaelen opened the discussion, his deep voice carrying weight. “The outer wall is nearly complete, but the eastern drawbridge needs weeks to finish. If the Veinforged attack before then, it’ll be our weakest point.”
Dravyn nodded, his sharp eyes on the map. “Their silence isn’t peace. It’s preparation. We need scouts beyond the Gloamfields to track their movements.”
Elara’s voice was calm but resolute. “I’ll handle it. My scouts will find them if they’re out there.”
Asher raised a hand, commanding silence. Slowly, he stood, his emerald eyes scanning the room. His tall, powerful frame radiated authority as he placed a hand on the map, tracing a path from Aetherhold through the Gloamfields and into the Red Wastes, a desolate expanse of searing heat and relentless danger.
“We’re not waiting for them to come to us,” Asher began. “Our goal remains the Skyward Throne. To reclaim this world, we must cross the Red Wastes. Every step forward will push the purified vein outward, carving sanctuaries into the land and reclaiming what has been lost. We will establish outposts—beacons of light and strength against the Veinforged.”
Elara’s sharp gaze locked onto him. “And who leads this campaign?”
“I do,” Asher replied without hesitation.
The room erupted.
Kaelen slammed his hand on the table, his frustration palpable. “Your Majesty, you’re the king. Your place is here, not on the front lines!”
Brynn rose, her emerald eyes blazing with emotion. “Asher, you’ve built so much here. If something happens to you—”
Vicky leaned forward, her runes glowing faintly as she spoke, her voice calm but firm. “Aetherhold is more than walls. It’s hope for the people. If you fall, what happens to that hope?”
Asher placed his hands on the table, the dark purple runes etched into his skin flaring with eerie light. The air thickened as his power radiated outward, a storm simmering beneath his calm exterior.
“I am a warrior king,” he said, his voice cutting through the protests like steel. “I will not cower behind these walls while others bleed for the future I promised to fight for. My place is with my people—on the front lines.”
The room stilled under the weight of his words. Jorven, his gruff voice breaking the silence, leaned forward. “Majesty, the plan is noble, but your life is the heart of this kingdom.”
“And that’s why I will ensure this campaign succeeds,” Asher countered. “I’m taking a mobile force of 10,000 soldiers—the best Aetherhold has to offer. The remaining 25,000 troops will fortify the city.”
Asher’s tone sharpened as he outlined his army. “The Frostborn will form our vanguard—2,000 warriors from the north, their frost magic and resilience unmatched. The Knights of the Azure Fang, 1,000 elite human cavalry, will ride at the forefront. Elara’s scouts and assassins, 500 of her finest, will keep us ahead of the enemy.
"The Durnvar Hammer Guard, 1,500 stoneborn warriors, will be our shield, their strength breaking enemy lines. The Vaelari aerial troops—1,500 Skyborne soldiers—will dominate the skies. The Morvani water manipulators, 1,000 amphibious fighters, will adapt to the challenges of the Red Wastes.
"The Gloamkin, 2,000 shadow-walkers, will harass and disrupt the enemy. Finally, my 500 Honor Guard, infused with Aether by my hand, will protect our most critical operations. Together, this force will lead the campaign.”
Malisya leaned back, her grin spreading wide. “You’re letting me come along?” Her fiery energy burned in her voice. “About damn time. I thought you were hogging all the fun for yourself.”
Elara smirked, her sharp eyes gleaming with excitement. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself killed before we even reach the wastes.”
Brynn noticed the way Elara and Malisya’s expressions shifted—loyalty edged with something deeper. She stifled a laugh, her lips curving into a knowing smile. Vicky, however, didn’t hide her reaction. Her runes flared slightly as she shot both women a pointed glare.
The tension grew thicker when Asher turned to Brynn and Vicky. “You’ll remain in Aetherhold. Brynn, oversee the college and ensure the city thrives. Vicky, you’ll command the defenses and protect the people. This kingdom will depend on you both in my absence.”
Brynn’s voice trembled with emotion. “You can’t expect us to stay behind while you walk into danger.”
Before Asher could respond, Vicky stood abruptly, her glowing runes brightening as she slammed her hand on the table. “No,” she said, her voice trembling but resolute. “I’m not staying behind. You’re my king, and I’m coming with you.”
“Vicky—” Asher began, his tone laced with worry.
Vicky cut him off, her voice sharp. “I won’t stay behind and wonder if you’ll come back. I’ve trained for this. I’ve fought for this. And I won’t let you face it without me.”
Asher stared at her for a long moment, the room silent under the weight of her words. Finally, he nodded. “Then you’re coming.”
Aetheros’s radiant presence filled the room, her form shimmering into being. Her white robes, adorned with intricate golden embroidery, pulsed faintly with Aetheric energy. Her auburn hair framed her glowing orange eyes, flecked with stars that seemed to hold the room in quiet awe.
“All of you must trust in his decision,” Aetheros said, her voice melodic but firm. “Asher’s path is not one of safety, but of resolve. His leadership will guide this world back from darkness. And he will not walk this path alone.”
She stepped closer to Asher, her gaze softening. “I will accompany you. Together, we will ensure this campaign succeeds.”
Brynn’s voice trembled as she stepped forward, her expression torn. “Even with Aetheros... promise us you’ll return.”
Asher’s gaze swept the room, his tone steady and resolute. “I will. This isn’t just my fight—it’s ours. Together, we’ll reclaim this world.”
Elara’s smirk deepened, her excitement barely contained. Malisya’s grin widened, her fiery gaze glowing with eagerness. Brynn stifled a soft laugh at their enthusiasm, while Vicky crossed her arms, her glare pointed but resigned, though her determination was unshaken.
The campaign had begun.
Hours had passed since the meeting, and preparations for Asher’s campaign were in full swing. They were set to leave in three days, but the weight of it all felt heavier with each passing moment.
Asher sat alone by a quiet garden pond near the inner palace. The stillness of the night stretched into the early morning hours, the air cool and crisp under the faint light of the stars. Sleep had evaded him again. The corruption had been especially loud tonight, its whispers clawing at the edges of his mind.
His nightmares had been relentless—visions of Brynn and Vicky lying lifeless before him, of Aetheros torn apart and discarded like refuse. Even now, the images lingered, sending an involuntary shiver through him. This campaign, Asher realized, was more than just a calculated move; it was one of quiet desperation. No one else knew the truth—he hadn’t had the heart to tell them. Even Aetherhold, with its towering walls and layered defenses, wasn’t truly safe. Asher could feel the corruption watching, waiting, like a predator circling its prey.
He exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on the water. Around him, eight suspended orbs hovered, shifting seamlessly between water and ice. They danced in intricate patterns, reshaping into different forms with a rhythm tied to his thoughts. Asher had grown so proficient at manipulating them that he sometimes didn’t even notice he was doing it—they simply responded to his subconscious, a reflection of his swirling emotions.
The soft scuff of leather boots on stone drew his attention. He turned, his emerald eyes catching the faint glow of Brynn’s runic lines as she stood at the edge of the garden. The light emanating from her veins pulsed faintly, mirroring the conflicted emotions radiating from her. Asher tilted his head, trying to read her, but her feelings were a tangle of disorder, impossible to decipher.
“Hey, Brynn,” he said, his voice low and steady. “You’re up late. Is something wrong?”
She looked at him as though her mind was miles away, her gaze distant and unreadable. After a long pause, she spoke, her tone soft but tinged with resolve.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, but there’s something I need to say before you leave.”
Asher looked up at Brynn, worry flickering across his face.
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The corruption slithered into his mind, its voice dripping with malicious glee. “Ohhh, is this where she leaves you?” The sickly amusement sent a shiver down his spine, and he visibly shook his head as if to dispel the thought.
Brynn noticed his unease and moved to sit beside him. She placed a hand gently on his thigh, her fingers tracing soothing circles. “Asher, don’t worry,” she said softly, her voice carrying a mix of reassurance and hesitation. “I only seem distraught because... well, I’m struggling to say this. It feels selfish, like something you should be asking me, not the other way around. You are the king, after all.”
Asher tilted his head, confusion lacing his expression. “What is it, Brynn? You know you can tell me anything.”
Brynn glanced down at her feet, her glowing veins dimming faintly as she gathered her thoughts. When she finally looked back at him, her emerald eyes reflected vulnerability and resolve. “Asher, the truth is... I came here because I’m afraid this might be my last chance to tell you. I’ve been thinking, these past months, about what I mean to you and what my role is in your kingdom.”
“Our kingdom,” Asher interjected, his voice firm yet kind. “It belongs to all of us.”
Brynn held up a hand, her tone tinged with exasperation. “Asher, you know what I mean. Please, let me finish.”
He nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m just... on edge tonight. Go on.”
Brynn took a steadying breath before continuing, her voice quieter now but no less sincere. “Asher, I’ve lived a very long time. There was a time when cities like this—places full of life and hope—were common. But for so long, all I’ve known is desolation, death, and despair. I gave up on the idea of a future. I existed, day after day, as a ghost, a shadow of what I once was, my power dwindling with each passing year.”
She paused, her hand still resting lightly on his thigh. “And then you showed up on my doorstep. Honestly? I thought you wouldn’t survive your first battle. I’ve thought you’d die a hundred times since then. But you didn’t. You kept fighting, kept pushing forward, and something crept back into me—something I thought I’d lost forever. Hope.”
Her voice caught for a moment, but she pressed on, her words measured and deliberate. “I came here tonight to tell you that before you leave, I want to be your queen. There are plenty of logical reasons for it. The people need a leader while you and Aetheros are gone, and they already see me and Vicky at your side. It would make sense to them. And if...” She faltered, looking down again. “If something were to happen to you, someone has to be ready to lead.”
Asher raised a hand, his palm warm against hers as he stopped her mid-sentence. “Brynn,” he said gently, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not pitching me some new magical artifact you want to sell. If you want to be my queen, I need it to be because you love me. Because you share my vision for this world and its people. The crown is heavy, and I don’t need the most logical choice for practicality’s sake. I need someone by my side who I trust more than anyone, someone who truly wants this—for the right reasons.”
Brynn looked up at him, her glowing veins flickering brighter as she met his gaze, her lips parting slightly in surprise. Her hand remained on his thigh, her touch steady despite the emotions swirling between them.
Brynn took a deep breath, her hand trembling slightly against Asher’s thigh. The soft glow of her veins pulsed rhythmically, reflecting the storm of emotions coursing through her. When she looked up at him, her ice blue eyes were resolute, her voice steady yet heavy with emotion.
“You’re right, Asher,” she said softly. “I wasn’t honest. I tried to dress this up as practicality because I was afraid—afraid of what Vicky might think, of what others might say. That they’d think I was selfish or power-hungry.”
She paused, her gaze unwavering as her hand stilled. “But that’s not why I want this. It’s because I want you. I want to stand beside you, not because it’s logical or expected, but because I love you. I’ve loved you since that day in the lantern chamber, when we ignited it together. Something happened between us then—something I can’t explain, but it’s been with me ever since. And it’s only grown stronger.”
Her voice faltered for a moment, but she pressed on, determination hardening her tone. “I want to see a Sylvari king and queen on the throne again. For centuries, we’ve been scattered, broken, and corrupted. Our people have been reduced to stories and fear. I want to help rebuild them, to create a future where Sylvari can thrive again. I want to be part of that—and I want to do it with you.”
Brynn’s glowing veins brightened, casting faint patterns of light on her pale skin as she leaned closer, her voice softening. “I know the crown is heavy. I know the path ahead will be harder than anything we’ve faced so far. But I believe in your vision, Asher. I believe in Aetheros’ vision. And I believe that I can support you better than anyone else. Together, we can build something greater than either of us imagined. Not just for the Sylvari, but for everyone.”
She hesitated, her hand tightening slightly on his leg as she held his gaze. “I want to be with you forever, Asher. I want to be your queen because I love you—not because it’s practical or necessary, but because I can’t imagine standing anywhere else.”
Her words hung in the air, the vulnerability in her voice cutting through the cool night. The suspended orbs of water around them rippled faintly, reflecting the glow of the Aetherfire in the distance. Brynn’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she waited for Asher’s response, the glow of her veins dimming just slightly as uncertainty crept into her expression.
Asher watched Brynn, her words settling into the depths of his heart like the first warmth of dawn breaking over a cold horizon. Slowly, he rose to his feet, the rippling orbs of water around them stilling as his thoughts crystallized into action. Then, with a deliberate motion, he lowered himself onto one knee before her, his emerald eyes steady and unwavering as they met hers.
“Brynn Caeloria,” he said, his voice resonating with quiet intensity, “will you be my queen?”
For a moment, Brynn simply stared at him, her breath catching in her throat. The faint glow of her veins intensified, casting soft light against her pale gray skin. Her hair shimmered in the moonlight, streaks of silver weaving through her braided black locks like threads of starlight. Glowing Aetheric runes etched across her skin pulsed faintly, their patterns a testament to her power and heritage. Her ice-blue eyes, luminous and otherworldly, locked onto Asher’s. In their depths, he saw the reflection of his own soul, laid bare.
Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as a trembling smile broke across her face. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice unsteady with emotion. “Yes, Asher. I’ll be your queen.”
Without hesitation, she fell to her knees before him, closing the space between them as she wrapped her arms around him tightly. Her forehead pressed against his shoulder, and the trembling of her body betrayed the strength of her emotions.
Asher held her, his hand resting gently against her back, the warmth of her presence grounding him. For a moment, the world around them faded away—the garden, the flickering Aetherfire, the looming burdens of kingship. There was only the two of them, bound by something unshakable.
Unbeknownst to them, another pair of eyes watched from the shadows.
Vicky stood just beyond the garden’s edge, her glowing runes dim as she leaned against a tree, her expression caught between longing and conflict. She had been on her way to speak with Asher, but the sight of him kneeling before Brynn had stopped her in her tracks. Every word Brynn had spoken echoed in her mind, each one striking a chord of doubt and unease within her.
Her fists clenched at her sides, her breathing shallow as emotions warred within her—love, jealousy, fear, and a burgeoning realization of what she truly wanted. She turned away, retreating into the shadows, her glowing runes flaring slightly as she disappeared into the quiet of the night.
The cool night air pressed against Asher as he walked back toward his quarters, the faint glow of the Aetherfire moats illuminating his path. The quiet garden and Brynn’s heartfelt words still lingered in his mind, like a warmth that refused to fade.
“Ashe,” Vicky called, her voice wavering between determination and hesitation. The faint glow of her runes pulsed softly, betraying the tumult of emotions simmering beneath her usually composed exterior.
Asher stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing as he took in her expression. “Vicky?” he asked, his voice low, cautious. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer right away, her glowing runes brightening subtly as she closed the distance between them. For a moment, she seemed to grapple with her thoughts, and Asher could feel the weight of her unspoken words pressing against him like a physical force.
“We need to talk,” she said at last, her tone steady, though her eyes betrayed the vulnerability she was trying to conceal.
A thread of worry wound itself tightly around Asher’s chest. The constant pressure of leadership and his growing connection to the Aether had sharpened his sensitivity to others’ emotions, and the storm swirling within Vicky set his nerves on edge. His own Aetheric power leaked into his aura, faint wisps of energy radiating outward, making the intensity of his concern almost palpable.
Vicky noticed and quickly spoke, “Asher, I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, with everything that’s happening and the fact we’re leaving for war again soon. But this can’t wait. I need to say this.”
Asher tilted his head, his expression softening. “What is it?” he asked, though part of him already braced for the worst.
She hesitated for a moment before meeting his gaze. “First, I need to tell you—I saw everything with Brynn. I was on my way to find you and... I saw her. I couldn’t help but listen.”
Asher froze, realization dawning. “You saw all of it?” he asked, his voice tinged with regret. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Vicky shook her head firmly, dismissing his apology. “Don’t apologize,” she said. “You’ve been nothing but honest with me. This isn’t about that. What’s left is my decision... the one I promised you I’d make six months ago.” Her voice wavered slightly, but there was strength behind it. “I think I finally know what I want.”
Asher felt a pang in his chest, expecting her next words to confirm his fears—that she couldn’t bear the idea of sharing him, that their bond would remain only a friendship. He spoke carefully, his tone measured, “I understand, Vicky. You don’t have to say it. I know the idea of—”
“Please, Asher,” she interrupted, her voice sharper now, though not unkind. “Let me talk. I’m struggling to get this out as it is.”
Asher immediately fell silent, his gaze steady as he nodded for her to continue.
Vicky drew a deep breath, steadying herself. When she spoke again, her voice carried a quiet determination that left no room for doubt. “Asher, I’ve decided. I want to be with you. And I want to be your queen, just like Brynn is. I want to be your warrior queen—the kind who fights by your side, who stands with you against the monsters of this world. Like the Vikings from our world, the shield-maidens who earned their place on the battlefield.”
Her glowing runes flared softly as she stepped closer, her words gaining momentum. “I was going to tell you this anyway... Brynn just beat me to it.”
She paused, her gaze locking onto his, her expression both fierce and vulnerable. “I love you, Asher. And I want this. I want you. I want all of it.”
Asher looked at Vicky, her glowing runes casting faint patterns on her skin, her eyes brimming with emotion. He studied her face carefully, searching for any trace of doubt or hesitation, but all he found was determination.
“Vicky,” he began, his voice soft but steady, “I know you. You don’t come to decisions like this lightly, especially something this big. But I need to ask… are you sure? Can you handle Brynn being there with us? I know it’s not what you ever imagined or wanted, and I don’t want you to agree to something that’s going to hurt you in the long run.”
Vicky’s gaze didn’t falter. She let out a quiet breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly as her lips curled into a bittersweet smile. “It’s hard,” she admitted, her voice trembling just enough for him to hear it. “It’s not easy seeing you with her, knowing I have to share a part of you. But...”
She paused, gathering her thoughts, her fingers brushing against the glowing runes on her arm. “Over these past months, I’ve gotten to know Brynn better. And honestly, I care about her—a lot more than I expected to. She’s not just someone I tolerate. She’s someone I trust, someone I’m glad you have in your life. There were times when I wasn’t here, when I couldn’t be by your side, and... I’m grateful she was.”
Her voice softened further, a quiet sincerity in her tone. “She’s strong, Asher. She grounds you in a way I can’t, and I see how much you care for her. I see how much she cares for you. And the truth is, when I think about what we’re building together—this kingdom, this future—I can’t imagine it without her now. And I don’t want to.”
Asher felt the weight of her words settle in his chest, a warmth blooming there as he reached out to take her hand. His thumb brushed over the glowing runes on her wrist, his touch gentle but firm. “Vicky, I don’t know what I did to deserve your trust or your love, but I swear I won’t take it for granted. You’ve been with me through so much, and now hearing you say this…” He shook his head, his voice catching slightly. “It means more than I can put into words.”
Vicky smiled faintly, her free hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to say anything, Ashe. Just… don’t make me regret this, okay? No matter how much we have to share, I’m here. I choose you. I choose this.”
Asher nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “And I’ll choose you every day, Vicky. You and Brynn both. I promise.”
Vicky met Asher’s gaze, her runes glowing softly as her lips curled into a faint, wry smile. “Good,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with warning. “But there’s one more thing. No more women, Asher. Brynn and I are more than enough for you—and believe me, we’ve already talked about it. Two is already pushing it, really.”
Her tone shifted, firm but not harsh. “I can’t handle any more, and I won’t. That means when Elara and Malisya start trying to push their way into your bed—and trust me, they will—I’ll put them in their place if I have to. That’s my one condition. You and Brynn, that’s it. No one else.”
Asher blinked, her bluntness catching him off guard. Then, a chuckle escaped his lips, low and warm, easing some of the tension in the air. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Vicky,” he said, reaching out to take her hand again. His thumb brushed over her knuckles as he held her gaze, his expression softening. “You’re right. Two women is more than enough, and I don’t want to do anything to make this harder for you—or for Brynn.”
His tone grew more serious, the weight of his words grounding them. “You both mean everything to me, and I won’t let anyone come between what we’re building. Not Elara, not Malisya, not anyone. This is our bond, and I’ll honor it. You have my word.”
Vicky studied him for a long moment, her glowing runes pulsing faintly with a rhythm that matched the beating of her heart. Then, her lips quirked into a small, satisfied smile. “Good. I’m holding you to that, Ashe. You may be a king, but I’ll remind you who’s in charge if you forget.”
Asher laughed again, shaking his head. “I’d expect nothing less.”
Her expression softened at that, her usual sharpness giving way to something far more tender. “I love you, Ashe,” she said quietly, the words carrying all the weight of her earlier resolve.
Asher’s smile deepened as he pulled her close, his forehead resting lightly against hers. “And I love you, Vicky. No conditions, no limits—just you.”
For the first time that night, Vicky let herself relax, her arms wrapping around him as the tension eased from her shoulders. In that moment, there were no doubts, no shadows. Just the two of them and the promise they had forged together.
Asher’s arms wrapped tightly around Vicky, her glowing runes pulsing softly against his skin as she leaned closer, her breath warm against his neck. She tilted her head up, her luminous eyes meeting his, the faint flicker of uncertainty in them quickly replaced by resolve.
“Ashe,” she whispered, her voice carrying both vulnerability and longing. “I don’t want to wait anymore. I want tonight to be ours.”
Asher’s emerald eyes softened, his hand moving to cradle her cheek as he searched her face for any hesitation. “Are you sure?” he asked gently, his voice low and steady.
Vicky nodded, her runes flaring faintly as she leaned into his touch. “I’m sure,” she replied, her voice trembling but firm.
A smile tugged at his lips, and before he could say anything more, she closed the distance between them, her mouth finding his in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly deepened. Her arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer as their connection surged.
Without breaking the kiss, Asher’s hands settled on her waist, guiding her gently as they began to move toward his chambers. Vicky pressed against him, her fingers threading through his hair as their kiss grew hungrier, her lips parting to deepen the intimacy between them.
They stumbled into the room, Asher nudging the door closed behind them. The silver moonlight streaming through the windows mixed with the flickering glow of the Aetherfire moat outside, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the room.
Vicky’s hands explored the lines of glowing runes etched into his chest, her fingers tracing the patterns as her breath quickened. “You’re more than I ever imagined,” she murmured, her voice heavy with emotion.
Asher’s hands slid down her back, pulling her flush against him. “And you’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he replied, his voice thick with sincerity.
Their mouths met again, this time with a hunger that left no room for restraint. Vicky’s hands moved to Asher’s tunic, pulling it over his head and letting it fall to the floor. His glowing runes pulsed faintly, illuminating the contours of his chest and arms. Her eyes lingered, tracing the lines with her fingers before leaning forward to press her lips to his skin, kissing along the intricate patterns.
Asher’s hands found the laces of her armor, his movements deliberate as he untied them, piece by piece. The plates slipped away, revealing the bronzed expanse of her skin. Her glowing runes mirrored his, their light flaring faintly as her breath quickened under his touch. He ran his fingers across her shoulders, down her back, memorizing the curves of her body with reverent care.
With ease, he lifted her into his arms. Vicky wrapped her legs around his waist, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss as he carried her to the bed. The softness of the mattress met her back as Asher laid her down, his hands roaming over her sides and hips.
Her hands found his belt, undoing it with shaking fingers before guiding it away. Asher’s weight pressed against her, and their skin met fully for the first time. A gasp escaped Vicky’s lips as she felt the heat of him against her.
“Ashe,” she whispered, her voice trembling with desire and trust, “I need you.”
He met her gaze, his emerald eyes soft yet intense. “I’m yours,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.
Positioning himself, he entered her slowly, his movements careful and deliberate. Vicky’s breath hitched as she adjusted to him, her hands gripping his shoulders for support. A moan escaped her lips as he began to move, each thrust measured, their bodies finding a rhythm that spoke of trust and longing.
Their glowing runes pulsed in harmony, casting shifting light across the walls as their connection deepened. Vicky’s nails grazed his back, her gasps mingling with his low groans as they moved together. The intimacy was overwhelming, every movement carrying the weight of their bond and the unspoken promises between them.
Vicky arched beneath him, her body responding instinctively to his, her fingers threading through his hair as their pace quickened. The tension between them built steadily, their movements growing more urgent as they climbed together toward the edge.
When the climax finally came, it was not just physical but emotional—a wave of light and heat that left them both trembling. Their runes flared brilliantly, their connection solidified in a way that words could never express.
Asher collapsed beside her, pulling her into his arms. Vicky rested her head on his chest, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.
Afterward, Vicky lay nestled against Asher, her head resting on his chest as his fingers idly traced the patterns of her glowing runes. The room was quiet save for the soft sounds of their breathing, the warmth of their connection lingering in the air.
“You’re mine, Ashe,” she whispered, her voice filled with satisfaction and quiet determination.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his hand brushing through her hair. “Always,” he said softly, his voice steady and full of promise.
In the stillness of the night, they found peace in each other, the trials of their world momentarily forgotten.