Eryshae

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Sam

The hum of the car was low, constant; a mechanical lullaby that barely cut through the strange static in Sam's chest. He sat beside her, his hands folded too neatly in his lap, trying not to stare too long. The windows reflected the late-evening city lights, washing everything in a soft gold glow.

Earth-Vael sat beside him. Curly green hair; so similar. The same expressive brows. That spark in her eye when she caught him glancing her way. But something subtle curled around the edges of her presence: not less than the Vael he knew, but different. Softer in some places. Unsharpened in others. A dream built from the bones of a memory.

She wore a sensual crimson dress with a black corset beneath, hugging her form like it had been sculpted to worship her figure. Black tights disappeared into elegant heels. Gold jewelry caught the lights of the dashboard: teardrop earrings, layered bracelets, a necklace with a small engraved sun. Her perfume;

Gods, her perfume. It wasn't strong. Just a breath above silence. Something floral and spiced, like magnolia and cinnamon, fresh spring leaves after rain. It curled through his nose and down into something deeper, unsettling and exquisite all at once.

"You're quiet," she said, her voice warm, teasing. "Nervous?" He looked over at her, mouth parted, the answer caught somewhere behind his ribs. Her smile was playful, but she tilted her head; genuine curiosity in her gaze.

"Nervous isn't quite the word," Sam said, voice thick with something unplaceable. She laughed. "Well, you're not allowed to get cold feet now. I've waited too long to dance with you in heels this high."

The driver chuckled from the front seat. "You two ready to make the rest of the college green with envy?" Sam blinked, half-smiled. "Yeah. Think so."

But beneath it all, his mind still pulled at the seams. The way she looked at him; recognizing him, but not remembering. Not all the way. Not in the way his Vael would have. And still… she made the hollow places in him ache.

The road turned. City lights flickered past like distant stars. Somewhere, far from this car, another world still spun; one filled with roots and ruin and ancient bargains.

He shifted slightly, one hand instinctively brushing against his jacket pocket. The Orb was still there. Heavy. Waiting. Just like before. Just like him.

The car slowed beneath a canopy of string lights stretched between poles like stars caught in a net. Music thudded faintly from the event hall up ahead; something upbeat, forgettable. A banner arched above the entrance:

Summer Formal Prom – A Night Among the Stars.

The vehicle rolled to a gentle stop. For a second, neither of them moved. The driver adjusted the mirror and looked back. "Alright, lovebirds. Showtime." Sam blinked. "Right."

He opened his door, stepping out into the cool night air. The scent of fresh-cut grass hit him; sharper, crisper than he remembered. The stars above glittered through a veil of clouds, faint and indifferent. The world felt… thinner somehow, like he could reach through it and brush the other side.

He walked around the front of the car, shoes crunching on loose gravel. The wind tugged faintly at his jacket, and beneath the fabric, he could feel a flicker from the vines inked into his arm. Not glowing, not burning.

Just watching. He reached her door, inhaled once, and opened it. And there she was. Vael stepped out like the answer to a forgotten prayer. One leg first, graceful, sculpted in black. Then the sway of crimson as her dress caught the light, hugging curves that made his breath knot in his throat. The corset cinched her waist elegantly, giving way to the smooth rise of her chest and the poised arc of her collarbones, adorned with delicate gold. Her earrings swayed like sunlit leaves in a dream. She looked up at him through lashes dusted with shadow, a soft smile on her lips.

"You're staring again," she murmured, eyes twinkling.

Sam offered his hand. "Can you blame me?" Her fingers slid into his palm. Warm. Real. Grounding. She stood beside him, brushing imaginary lint from his lapel. "You clean up well," she said. "But I still win." He let out a low, stunned laugh. "No contest."

He tried to shake the eerie feeling building in his chest; that this was real, and it wasn't. That she was hers and also not. That he was here, but that somewhere in another world, his body sat beneath trees waiting for sun or salvation.

"You okay?" she asked gently, catching the slip in his smile. "I'm good," he lied, because he wanted to be. Vael squeezed his hand. "Then let's make tonight count." Together, they turned toward the building as music spilled out and laughter echoed from the open doors.

The stars above shimmered. And somewhere; buried deep beneath layers of time and bark and memory; the vines in Sam's skin shifted. Waiting.

They stepped through the double doors, and the world opened up into a swirl of light and sound. Soft golden bulbs hung from the ceiling in cascading strings, casting a warm glow over the polished floor. The faint scent of jasmine and fresh pine mingled with the aroma of sweet punch and buttery popcorn. A band played on a small stage, their guitars weaving a slow, easy melody beneath the tinkling of a piano.

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Couples glided across the dance floor in a rhythm both practiced and spontaneous. Women in shimmering gowns laughed as men in suits spun them gently, feet moving like whispered promises across the wood.

Vael's hand tightened around Sam's as the music shifted; a lilting waltz, delicate as falling leaves. He glanced down at her, her eyes sparkling with excitement, cheeks flushed with anticipation.

The tables were laden with platters of finger foods; mini sandwiches, fruit skewers bursting with color, trays of delicate pastries dusted with powdered sugar. Nearby, a punch bowl shimmered with floating slices of citrus and sprigs of mint.

Vael smiled, her gaze sweeping the room. "This is what normal looks like," she said softly, as if tasting the word. Sam nodded, still catching his breath. The laughter, the music, the soft scrape of shoes on polished wood; it all felt like another world, one he wasn't sure he belonged in but wanted to desperately.

"Dance with me?" she asked, stepping closer. He hesitated a heartbeat, then allowed himself to be pulled into the circle of light, the heat of her body steadying him. They moved together, a slow, swaying dance beneath the glittering lights, lost in a moment suspended between now and forever.

Around them, the prom pulsed with life; music weaving stories, laughter stitching the air with joy, and for a fleeting time, the world held only that. As they moved in time with the music, Vael's hand lightly resting on Sam's shoulder, she glanced up at him, eyes soft and shimmering with a quiet gratitude.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice almost lost beneath the melody. "For asking me out. For... making this moment so magical." Sam felt a warmth bloom in his chest, a mixture of surprise and something deeper; something hopeful. He squeezed her hand gently.

"You don't have to thank me," he said, voice low. "I've been wanting this; for us, for a while now. You make everything... better." Vael smiled, a slow, radiant curl of lips. "I was scared, you know? That this night would feel like just another thing I had to survive. But with you... it feels like a beginning."

He searched her eyes, seeing the flicker of vulnerability beneath her strength. "I want to be there," he promised softly, "for all the beginnings. For everything after." She leaned closer, her breath warm against his cheek. "Then don't let go."

The music carried them forward, but in that moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them; two hearts daring to believe in something beautiful. As the music swirled around them and the dancers spun in graceful arcs, Sam caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. There, near the buffet, Mira was casually picking up an amber-honey Danish, sliding it onto her plate with a calm that felt almost out of place.

A cold shiver ran down Sam's spine, and for a moment, the crowded room seemed to shrink away, leaving only the ghost of what he'd become; the half-man, half-tree monster, the vines lashing out wildly, the golden glow pulsing from his chest like a wound still breathing beneath his skin. He saw again the sunflowers erupting over his wooden flesh, their deadly beams of light burning through the chaos.

How could I have been like that? the thought echoed inside him, sharp and unwelcome. Vael's voice broke through the haze, soft and grounding. "Sam? You look like you've seen a ghost. Come on, let's get some light refreshments."

He blinked, forcing himself back into the moment. Her eyes were filled with concern, warm and real. Slowly, he nodded, willing himself to let go of the haunting memories for now. "Yes. Light refreshments," he repeated, his voice steady but quiet.

Together, they moved toward the tables, the music and laughter wrapping around them like a fragile shield against the shadows lurking just beyond the edges of the night. As they neared the refreshment table, Sam's steps slowed. The flicker of Mira's presence still lingered in the corner of his vision like a burn that wouldn't fade. She was gone now; melted into the crowd; but the echo of her movements stirred something beneath his skin. His tattoo tingled faintly, vines coiled in memory under his jacket sleeve.

The world had been so quiet when he was wood. Not empty; just still. Sunlight hadn't just warmed him; it had fed him, filled him. Each breath had rustled through leaves instead of lungs. He had known the weight of his own roots… and the weight of someone else's pain. Vael's voice. Her scream. The tremor in her touch.

And then; nothing. The jagged tear of death and the impossible return to this world of soft edges and artificial lights. He reached the punch bowl, the scent of synthetic fruit hanging in the air. He took the ladle and poured two cups, watching the liquid swirl; a rich, bright crimson. It caught the light in a way that reminded him too much of blood pooled beneath bark.

He stared too long. "Here," Vael said gently, nudging his arm. He turned, startled. She held out a small paper plate, and resting on it; golden, glistening, and warm; was the last amber-honey Danish.

"I saw you eyeing this," she said with a teasing smile. "Couldn't let it go unclaimed." Sam took it, his throat tight. "Thanks," he managed. "That's… thoughtful."

She accepted her own cup of punch from his hand, and for a moment they just stood there in the semi-darkness of the ballroom, bathed in glimmering fairy lights and the low hum of laughter and music. But Sam's mind drifted. Always back to that Grove. To the roar of Deus. To the scream in Vael's voice.

He glanced at her again, this new version of her in crimson and gold, her curls bouncing as she moved with easy grace. She didn't know him. Not truly. Not the way his Vael did. But she was her. Somehow. And that truth was both comforting and unbearable.

"I don't feel real," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Like I'm remembering someone else's life… in a dream that won't let me go." Vael turned to him, her smile fading to something softer, more serious. She took a sip of her punch, then set the cup down. One hand reached for his, grounding him again.

"You're here, Sam," she said gently. "Whatever else you've been through… you're here. And I'm here. So maybe… let's just take the next breath together. One at a time." He looked down at their hands; her warm fingers wrapped over his cold ones. He nodded. And took that next breath.

Vael leaned in. Her breath brushed his ear, soft as dusk settling over treetops. The scent of her perfume shifting; jasmine, honey, and something older, earthier; wrapped around him like a memory he hadn't made yet. "I'm here for you," she whispered, her voice low, meant only for him. "In this world… and in the next. Forever and ever."

The words landed in his chest like a pebble breaking the still surface of a deep pond. Ripples of something ancient, something true, spread through him. His throat closed. For a moment, all he could do was stare at the punch in his cup, crimson swirling in lazy circles as though stirred by something unseen. But then he turned, slowly, and met her eyes.

There was nothing supernatural in her gaze. No sunflare, no vines, no divine light. Just warmth. Kindness. And something that reached across worlds.

He didn't know if she remembered; really remembered; but the part of him that had bloomed under the Eryshae sun wanted to believe that some part of her did too. Sam swallowed hard, his voice quiet. "Promise?" Vael smiled and pressed her forehead to his, gently. "Always."

And somewhere; beneath the fluorescent lights, beneath the suit and the corset and the false normalcy of prom night; a vow long buried echoed once more between them. Bound not by time.

But by soul.