Radio to the heart

 conflicts escalate

Part three trials and tribulations.

The ocean wind cut across my face as I stood at the edge of the cliff, my eyes squeezed shut, focusing on the steady rhythm of Sephira's presence pulsing through my mind. Her consciousness shimmered against mine like warm embers in a cold night. But beneath that warmth, an unsettling tremor rippled through our connection—a warning. Ebony's forces were on the move, creeping closer than I'd anticipated. I clenched my fists, the familiar chill of dread slithering through me.

"We don't have much time, Sephira," I whispered into the wind.

Sephira's response came swiftly, her voice deep and resonant within my thoughts. *I've found them, Tess. Makayla and Alex—they're safe at their cabin, near the old TARDIS they love so much.* I felt a flicker of warmth despite the growing tension, Sephira's voice soothing me like a balm over frayed nerves. *Makayla knows everything. She and Alex are ready. They want to come to you—just say the word, and I'll lead them to you and Alistair.*

A shaky breath escaped me, gratitude threading through the fear that gripped my chest. "Thank you, Sephira. That's good." I paused, chewing my bottom lip. "Bring them to us, please. We might need them sooner than I thought. Maybe closer to the next town—things aren't looking good, and..." I trailed off, the weight of uncertainty pressing down. "I just don't know how much longer we can hold them off."

Sephira hummed softly in my mind, her affection wrapping around me like a protective cocoon. *Your kind words keep me strong, my Tess. I'll bring them. And quickly.*

Her reassurance was like a lifeline, but my gaze drifted to the figure standing a short distance away. Alistair. His broad shoulders were hunched as he honed the edge of his sword, every scrape of the whetstone deliberate and slow. His dark hair stirred in the breeze, but even from here, I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flicked toward me now and then.

From where I stood, I heard the low murmur of his voice—words not meant for my ears. He was muttering again, voicing his concerns under his breath. I caught fragments. Something about needing more time, about not being prepared.

His doubt gnawed at me, but I couldn't let it show. Not now. Not with everything at stake.

Back at camp, Alistair's voice drifted to me again, this time in the form of a song—low and soft, carrying a haunting melody. It was a familiar one. He was humming *Masochism Tango* of all things, and a ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth despite everything.

"Alistair," I called, soft enough not to startle him but loud enough for him to hear over the wind. "You know... my sweet Alistair, everything you do, I hope we survive this. I know we will. We have to." My voice wavered slightly, but I steadied it. "We've got what it takes, and we're going to have a beautiful future together."

Alistair glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine across the flickering light of the campfire. I saw something in them then—a flicker of devotion, of fierce determination. His expression softened, but he said nothing, only returning to sharpening his blade with renewed focus.

In that quiet moment, I knew exactly what was running through his mind. Alistair had always been protective, but now, it was more than that. I was his anchor, just as he was mine. He thought of me as his receiver of memory, his reminder of everything good and worth fighting for. His love for me was unwavering, and though he kept most of it locked behind his quiet demeanor, it seeped through in moments like these—in the way he glanced at me when he thought I wasn't looking, in the way he fought not just with a sword, but with his soul.

His fascination with Sephira had always amused me, his admiration for me as a dragon rider a point of wonder that never faded. I could feel his thoughts humming at the edges of my mind—how much he wanted to protect me, to be beside me, no matter the cost.