VISION ✔️ || The Keepers of Astraela #1

11.3 || Of Breaking and Entering (...Again)

EVA

MINUTES PASSED LIKE HOURS from the moment Eva plopped onto the loveseat.

In a futile attempt at relaxation, she threw her body across the loveseat and rested her head on one of the fuzzy throw pillows. The sounds of Emrys rummaging through utensils and the occasional whoosh of faux materials catching his flame accompanied her as she closed her eyes, but any hope of finding solace behind the darkness of her lids was quickly dashed. Memories and past dreams danced through the emptiness, no matter how hard she tried to shove them into the void. Flashes of hellfire, the Guardian's grotesque appearance, and blurred snips of Astraelan adventures plagued her vision until she forced herself to sit back up.

When she did, Emrys poked his head above the countertop. His eyes crinkled with a soft smile and he ducked back down. The soft rustling of items being placed in his bag resumed shortly after.

Sitting still would provide her no favors. The loveseat creaked as she stood, making her way to the TV stand and bookshelves to inspect their carnage.

Thankfully, the discarded books' pages hadn't been gutted from their bindings, but the sight of so many bent covers and scuffed dust jackets made her heart sink. She had worked with Emrys long enough to know how pristine he kept any novel he came into contact with—and how long he'd rant over her dog-earing pages. Just the thought of someone destroying his collection brought a heaviness to her chest.

The feeling deepened when she reached for the nearest picture frame, careful to avoid the shattered glass around it.

Two unmistakable figures stared back at her, frozen in heartfelt joy.

Emrys was in his Phoenix form, one she had yet to see in person for longer than a few hours. Even with his dark hair a tousled mess and sweat glistening off his skin, an ear-to-ear smile spread wide across his lips. His golden eyes shone bright as he laughed, peeking just beyond the shoulder of the woman who held their camera selfie-style.

Thana.

It had been months since Eva had received a clear dream of her, but Thana's beauty still ripped the breath from her lungs. Locks of pin-straight midnight hair that typically fell to her waist had been thrown into a messy updo with flyaways scattered in every direction. It was a look Eva often wore herself, though it made her look like she should be accepting coinage in a top hat on the street, whereas Thana donned the style with grace.

The image was possibly the happiest Thana had ever appeared. It reflected even in her eyes: a stunning sea-green that glittered with mid-shot laughter. While it was unclear what she and her male counterpart were so amused with, their expressions alone brought a smile to Eva's face.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been staring at the image when quiet footsteps drew her attention.

Emrys made his way from the open bathroom door. Intense concentration marked his face as he glanced inside his satchel, lips moving to take silent inventory of each acquired item.

With his attention on the bag, Eva held up the photo to capture both of his forms in one glance. There was no comparison; each form held its own unique properties, yet exuded the same childlike innocence that had enamored her from her first dream.

Still, she found it hard to see his current state as anyone other than Jensen Hawthorn: a normal, klutzy human with a soft spot for addictive books and baked goods.

When he approached, his eyes landed on the frame in Eva's grasp.

"Is it ruined?" His voice was hesitant, as if uncertain whether he wanted to hear the answer. He stepped behind her and crouched down to peek over her shoulder.