Eryshae

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Vael

The Grove

He breathed. Not like before, shallow and human, but deep, ancient. Like a mountain inhaling mist. Like a tree exhaling morning light.

Vael knelt over him, her hands still trembling against his chest, the bark around his ribs cracked and curling from where the Titan's Amber pulsed in steady rhythm. Its glow had dulled now, no longer a flare but a constant, golden heartbeat.

He was alive. Reborn. But not unchanged. "Sam…" she whispered, voice raw from a thousand unshed screams. "You're back." His hand, larger than it had been, a blend of bark and skin, cupped her cheek. His fingers traced her skin like he was memorizing it all over again.

"I always will be," he murmured. She folded into his embrace, forehead against his collarbone. His skin was warm, radiant even, and pulsing with life like the grove itself. But even as she breathed him in… She heard it.

Steel. Marching feet. Shouts, closer now. Barking orders. The iron stench of blood from the woods. The aftermath of Mira's last stand. Ruwan's men were coming. Vael pulled back, her fingers gripping Sam's arm.

"We have to move," she said, her voice low but urgent. "They're nearly here." Sam's golden eyes flicked toward the trees, scanning through sunlight and shadow. His jaw clenched, and for a moment she saw the war in him, new life against old rage.

Not just light behind the iris, but light spilling outward like a sun restrained by skin. His gaze met hers. And for a moment, everything inside her unraveled. He remembered her.

And then, he saw the blood on her face. The cuts on her arms. Her torn cloak. His golden glow deepened into a sharp radiance, like sunlight through a burning magnifier.

"Who hurt you?" he rasped, voice layered, his own, and something older. Behind them, Myrtle gasped. "The guards," she said quickly. "Ruwan's. They're coming. And Mira, she stayed behind to buy us time."

Sam's expression didn't twist, it fractured. Cracks of golden fury split through the bark of his arms. His vines, once dormant, erupted from beneath his skin, lashing out across the grove, thorns tipped with sun-flare light. The sunflowers along his forearms bloomed open, their black centers igniting like miniature suns, their petals catching and refracting the light pouring from him.

"She stayed?" Sam repeated, his voice trembling with barely contained power. "They tried to take you. They hurt you. They took her." The ground around him began to tremble. The Grove whispered in response, trees leaning back, birds fleeing, moss curling away from the roots where he stood.

Vael reached for him, his hand was hot to the touch, burning with divine grief and rage. "Sam," she said, voice steady despite her thundering heart. "You're here. You came back. But if we don't move now, they'll take that from us again." His chest pulsed once more, the Amber glowing so bright she had to squint.

The silence didn't last long. The first sign was the heavy shuffle of paws, raccoon mounts skidding over leaf-matted ground. Then came the gleam of steel beneath the trees. Ten riders broke through the outer veil of the Grove, their crimson cloaks fluttering behind them like torn banners of blood.

Each man bore a sigil stitched onto their collars: the brand of House Eberflame. Myrtle stepped back instinctively, shielding herself behind a tangle of low-growing sunpetal shrubs. Vael stood taller instead, shoulders straightening as her gaze swept over the riders.

One of them, a grizzled commander with a blackened pauldron and a cruel smirk, pointed his blade directly at her. "Lady Vael," he said, loud enough to echo. "By order of Ruwan of House Eberflame, you are to be returned, alive."

The way he said it sent bile crawling up her throat. "And the creature?" one of the other guards asked, nudging his raccoon forward. Its eyes darted nervously toward Sam. "Contain it if you can," the commander muttered. "Kill it if you must."

Sam's gaze didn't leave them. Not once. His golden light flared, washing across the Grove like the sun had bled into the roots. The vines around his arms flexed. The sunflowers on his skin opened wider, halos of deadly brilliance swirling at their cores.

"He is not a creature," Vael said flatly, stepping closer to him, her shoulder brushing his. "He is the heart you tried to silence. He's mine." The commander sneered. "Not for long." Weapons drew. A dozen steel blades hissed in unison. Crossbows lifted, aimed squarely at Sam and Vael both.

Myrtle whispered a prayer under her breath, her hand trembling as she clutched the pouch of healing herbs at her hip. Vael's fingers curled around the hilt of her dagger, but Sam was already moving. Not charging. Not roaring. Just… rising.

Straightening fully. Glowing brighter. Vines coiled like armor down his legs, roots embedding into the soil. The golden glow from his chest shimmered through the bark across his torso like a second heartbeat, and when he spoke, the air went still.

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"Leave," he said. The commander gave a sharp whistle. The guards urged their raccoons forward. Sam's eyes flared gold, and one of the vines lashed out. A crossbow shattered in the guard's hands. Then another.

The moment teetered. A breath held in the lungs of the world. Vael drew her blade. Sam took one step forward, each footfall sparking with heat and light. And then everything exploded into motion.

They advanced. Too slow. The first vine shot like a whip, thick, braided, and glowing faintly gold. It wrapped around the throat of a mounted guard and yanked. The man didn't even scream. Just vanished backward into the trees with a sickening crack.

Then chaos. A crossbow bolt hissed toward Myrtle. Sam raised one hand. The sunflower etched into his forearm opened. A beam of pure solar light lanced through the air, so bright it burned shadows into the bark of the trees. The bolt turned to cinders mid-flight. The shooter screamed as his weapon detonated in his hands, metal shards embedding into his throat.

"Behind you!" Vael cried, spinning with her dagger. But Sam was already there, moving like a force of nature, not a man. He slammed his foot into the earth. Roots surged upward like spears, impaling two raccoon mounts and toppling their riders. One man tried to run. He didn't get far. A vine curled around his ankle and dragged him screaming back toward Sam, where another sunflower bloomed across Sam's chest, its eyes opening and unleashing a blast of light that vaporized the man where he stood.

Vael shielded her eyes from the radiant blaze. Myrtle crouched low, eyes wide with awe and terror. The remaining guards broke formation, panic overtaking duty. Some dropped weapons. Some kicked their raccoons into a panicked retreat. Sam raised both arms, glowing brighter now than the Grove's highest sunstone lanterns.

"You came to harm her," he growled, voice thick with root and wrath. "You came to take what was never yours."

He slammed his palms together. From the sunflowers across his body, shoulders, chest, wrists, six beams of solar death arced outward, curving mid-air to strike fleeing guards with surgical precision. They screamed as their armor melted, as vines wrapped their limbs, as light consumed them utterly.

Within heartbeats… It was over. The Grove stank of scorched cloth and shattered steel. Trees still quivered from the echoes of battle. Smoke curled from blackened patches of moss. Sam stood in the center of it all. Breathing hard. Eyes dimming.

Vael rushed to his side, slipping a hand into his. His skin was hot, burning, and bark cracked along his arms. But he was whole. He was there. Myrtle stood slowly, silent tears on her cheeks. Vael looked up at Sam. He looked at her.

"I'm here," he whispered. She squeezed his hand. "So am I." Sam staggered. His shoulders slumped, bark cracking at the edges of his skin, vines retreating slightly as if recoiling from overuse. The golden glow that had lit his veins now flickered, less sun, more ember.

"Sam," Vael breathed, stepping closer. He didn't fall, but he dropped to one knee, then the other. Sat down heavily on the soft moss, breath shuddering through his chest. His back curved forward, hands braced in the dirt. The sunflowers along his limbs folded in on themselves, their light dimming.

The golden light in his chest pulsed once. Then again. Gentle. Measured. Like a heartbeat not quite his own. The Titan's Amber embedded over where his heart should have been… began to glow. Softly. Like dawn bleeding through mist.

Sam let out a breath and leaned back against the nearest root. The lines of exhaustion on his face smoothed. His jaw unclenched. Color, warm and living, returned to the bark that covered half his chest and arm. The grooves of his wooden skin shimmered faintly, like sap catching sunlight.

Vael dropped to her knees beside him, cupping the side of his face. He leaned into her touch. "Don't push yourself again," she whispered, voice hoarse. "Please."

"I had to," he murmured, eyes fluttering open. "They were going to hurt you. I couldn't let them." Her brow touched his. "I know. But you're still healing. Whatever the Amber's doing… it's not done yet." Myrtle stood a few feet away, watching with a worried expression, staff clutched in both hands. She said nothing, giving them the space of a quiet sanctuary.

Sam's eyes slid closed for a moment. "Feels like it's keeping me stitched together. Like I'd fall apart if it stopped." Vael's fingers brushed over the Amber's surface, just above the ridged bark. The glow warmed her fingertips. "You're not falling apart," she whispered. "You're still here." He opened his eyes again, steady now. Clearer. "I am."

Vael watched him breathe. Half-man. Half-tree. All heart. The bark still curled over one side of his face, like a crown grown from pain. His chest rose and fell with careful rhythm, vines slowly retracting along his arm, winding back into the patterns of his glowing tattoo. The Amber in his chest glowed warm and deep, like an ember nestled beneath bone, still whispering life where no heartbeat should be.

His skin, where it remained human, was flushed faintly golden, like he had sipped the sun. The sunflower blooms along his shoulder had dimmed, their faces turned downward, but their edges still glowed faintly, sentinels at rest.

He was beautiful.

And terrifying.

And hers.

Her fingers ghosted over the side of his jaw, where wood met flesh in seamless convergence. Not a curse. Not anymore. A resurrection. A becoming. Her chest ached with the weight of it all. He had come back for her. She didn't realize her eyes were wet until Sam's hand came up, brushing a knuckle beneath her lashes.

"I'm alright," he whispered again, though his voice was gravel and warmth, strained and real. "I'm here." Before she could answer, the grove shifted. A sudden hush, deep as snowfall, blanketed the air. The roots beneath them stirred. The canopy rustled, not with wind, but with awareness. A presence approaching, familiar and strange, gentle but vast.

Footsteps. Vael turned. Druid Magnolia stepped into the clearing, his wide straw hat casting shadow over his eyes, walking stick tapping softly against the moss. His robes were simple as ever, earth-toned and dusted with pollen. A few flowers clung to his hem as if drawn to him by instinct.

He stopped just inside the ring of trees, head tilting slightly as he took in the carnage, bodies sprawled where Sam had fought, scorched grass where solar beams had pierced the air, and Sam himself… glowing like the aftermath of a storm.

Magnolia let out a long breath. "Lord Deus sure did a number on you, son." His voice was quiet, but it settled into the space like a tree root burrowing into ancient soil. Sam blinked up at him, lips twitching faintly into something between a grimace and a smile.

Vael looked between them, between the man she loved and the druid who had once warned her that balance could never be bought, only borrowed. The moment lingered, like the stillness after thunder.