Sylas POV:
Warmth.
Not the burning heat of the ritual.
Not the crushing weight of the forest's heart.
Just warmth — soft, steady, grounding.
Sylas blinked awake.
The grove swam into focus — silver leaves, soft moss, the faint hum of protective magic.
And then he saw him.
Rielun.
Older.
Whole‑souled.
Alive.
Sitting only a few feet away, Aeris asleep against him, moonlight catching in his hair.
Sylas's breath caught — not because he recognized him, but because something inside him shifted, like a thread tightening between them.
A pull.
A hum.
A quiet, magnetic ache.
"You're awake again," Rielun said softly.
Sylas nodded, pushing himself upright. "Feels like… for real this time."
Rielun smiled — small, uncertain, but warm. "You scared us."
Sylas stared at him — at the unfamiliar face, the older form, the quiet strength — and felt the bond humming under his skin.
Not memory.
Not recognition.
Something deeper.
"You're… different," Sylas murmured. "Older. Stronger."
Rielun looked down at his hands — older, unfamiliar. "Elias said this is how old I was when I died."
Sylas swallowed. "It suits you."
Rielun blinked. "You think so?"
Sylas nodded slowly. "I don't know you. Not really. But… I feel like I'm meant to."
Rielun's breath hitched.
Because he felt it too —
that strange, magnetic pull,
that sense of belonging without explanation,
that soulmate thread humming between them.
Not from a past life.
From this one.
From the prophecy.
From the bond.
From the moment Rielun's soul returned whole.
Rielun shifted closer without meaning to — just an inch, just enough for their knees to almost touch.
Sylas noticed.
His breath stilled.
The bond thrummed.
"What is this?" Rielun whispered.
Sylas shook his head. "I don't know. But it feels… right."
A soft rustle came from the grove's edge.
Noctis had turned toward them, shadows curling tighter around his shoulders — not in jealousy, but in recognition. His eyes glowed faintly, pupils dilated, as if he felt the same pull vibrating through the air.
He didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
The bond hummed between all of them.
Rowan, half‑awake against the tree, blinked blearily at the two of them. His expression softened — something like awe flickering across his face before he closed his eyes again, letting the bond settle over him like a warm blanket.
Elias, still in meditation, exhaled slowly — the kind of breath someone takes when a prophecy line clicks into place. His eyes opened, glowing faintly, and he watched the two of them with quiet understanding.
Aeris, still asleep against Rielun's shoulder, shifted — his fingers curling unconsciously toward Rielun's arm, drawn by the same invisible thread.
The grove itself seemed to lean closer.
The soulmate bond wasn't subtle.
It wasn't quiet.
It was a constellation forming in real time — each guardian a star, Rielun the center.
And Sylas felt it most of all.
Rielun's gaze dropped to Sylas's lips for a heartbeat — a flicker, a question, a pull.
Sylas's pulse stumbled.
He leaned in just slightly — not enough to close the distance, but enough to show he wasn't afraid of it.
The bond tightened.
The air warmed.
Even Noctis's shadows stilled.
Rielun whispered, "Sylas…"
Aeris shifted in his sleep, brushing against Rielun's arm.
The moment broke — softly, gently — like a held breath released.
Rielun exhaled shakily. "I… I think I need to sleep again."
Sylas nodded, voice low. "I'll be here."
Rielun lay down, eyes fluttering shut — but his hand brushed Sylas's as he settled.
A soft touch.
Barely there.
But enough to send a warm pulse through all of them.
The first spark of a kiss that hadn't happened yet —
but would.
Soon.