The Stars Align

Is it over?

Despite the relentless efforts and rigorous training of the Jahara clan, nothing seemed to yield results. Their hard work felt increasingly futile, magnifying the tragedy of their mounting losses.

Ishtar, caught in the thick of battle, felt a chilling despair grip her heart. Her eyes widened in horror as she witnessed her brother fighting valiantly beside her, only to be brutally torn apart, his blood spraying across her in a horrific reminder of their impending doom. Tears filled her vision as she watched the light fade from his eyes.

One by one, her comrades fell. Yet she pressed on, refusing to surrender. Even knowing the battle was lost, she threw herself into the fight with fierce determination. She faced a fresh beast now—its snarling jaws bared—but failed to notice another creeping up from behind. It matched her movements, mirrored her tension. By the time she spun around, it was too late. It lunged. The beast slammed her to the ground. She strained with all her might, pushing back against its snapping jaws. But her strength was fading. She cried out for help, fully aware it was likely in vain. The reality was brutally simple—she was alone. The idea of escape felt impossible to her battered heart.

But in the critical instant before the beast could bite, a blade pierced through its skull. A figure tackled the creature, knocking it aside. Ishtar gasped for breath, her heart racing—not only from her brush with death, but also from the sudden surge of relief. She opened her eyes and met the warm brown gaze of the man she had spent the night with. Without a second thought, she grasped his outstretched hand, letting him pull her to her feet as the immediate danger passed.

Once the wolves were driven off, she collapsed into his arms, trembling, her body racked with sobs. The tears she shed mourned not only her fallen comrades but the irreplaceable loss of her brother.

Later, silence hung heavy over the empty tent she once shared with him. An overwhelming sense of isolation settled over her. The battle was over—but the war inside her heart had just begun.

She sat among the scattered belongings, sorting through the remains of her life when the flap of the tent stirred. A voice called out.

"I was looking for you," Vax said gently. His tone was low, tinged with concern. "May I come in?" When silence answered, he entered anyway.

His gaze swept the space, taking in its compactness, clearly meant for two. The walls were adorned with sketches and keepsakes. A photo caught his eye—of a man and woman who bore a striking resemblance to Ishtar, alongside a young boy. Realization dawned. Her brother. She looked more like her mother. The thought sent a bittersweet smile to his lips before his eyes fell once more on the woman who had unexpectedly woven her way into his thoughts—and perhaps his heart. Ishtar stood frozen as he approached. When he reached out to touch her shoulder, she flinched, stumbling slightly. Vax caught her swiftly, holding her close.

In that moment, something inside her cracked. All the walls she built against her sorrow crumbled. Tears streamed down her face, hot and unstoppable.

"I'm sorry about your brother," Vax murmured, gently lifting her chin until her eyes met his. "It's not your fault," he whispered. His words enveloped her like a balm, wrapping around her fragile heart. In the hush of that small tent, they lingered in an intimate silence—an unspoken connection bridging grief and quiet understanding.

Vax looked deeply into her eyes, searching through the shadows of pain and finding the unyielding strength within. She was broken—but not destroyed.

They stood there, two souls touched by tragedy, the stillness stretching like a thread between them. And in that space, something began to mend.