Shadows of Redemption

The faintest glimmers of dawn lingered far off on the horizon, hinting at the coming day as Theo stepped quietly into the house. The night still held its grip on the world outside, though he knew the morning would be approaching soon enough. The cool air inside greeted him like a familiar companion, though the weight of his conversation with Arthur, and not to mention his encounter with Celeste, still clung to him. As he moved through the quiet hallways, he could sense the stillness, the calm before the world fully stirred awake.

When he reached the library, Theo paused at the doorway. Elena lay curled up in an armchair, her body half-hidden beneath a soft blanket. The flickering light from the dying fire played across her face, casting soft shadows along her features. She looked so peaceful, so small in the grand space, and for a moment, Theo found himself just watching her, noticing the way her hair fell over her shoulder, the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest as she slept.

Her cat, Charlie, padded silently across the room, noticing Theo before slipping away into the shadows. The sound must have stirred Elena because she blinked awake, her eyes adjusting to the dim light.

“Theo?” she murmured, her voice soft and thick with sleep.

He stepped closer, keeping his movements quiet. “Hey, sorry I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, his voice low. “Go back to sleep.”

Elena shook her head gently, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Did you find out anything?”

Theo moved toward the window. He hesitated, the remnants of his meeting with Arthur swirling in his mind.

“I went to see Arthur,” he said finally, his voice steady but guarded.

“Your old professor?” Elena asked, sitting up a little straighter, the fog of sleep lifting from her eyes.

Theo smirked, glancing over at her. “Is that what he told you?”

Elena smiled softly. “He said you were his student, and that you worked together… a long time ago.”

Theo turned his gaze back to the window. “Well, I suppose there is some truth to that,” he said, “But, Elena… Arthur is part of my world. He’s like me.”

Elena's expression shifted, curiosity rising in her eyes. Theo could sense the questions forming in her mind, but she didn’t press him for answers. Not yet. Instead, she simply nodded, absorbing the weight of his words.

Theo continued, relieved that she wasn’t pushing for more. “Arthur confirmed that the artifact is missing pieces. And the symbol we found... it belongs to a group called the Watchers of the Divine.”

“The Watchers of the Divine?” Elena repeated, frowning slightly. “I’ve never heard of them.”

Theo nodded, watching the subtle change in her expression, the way her brows furrowed in concentration.

Theo’s gaze flickered as he spoke, choosing his words carefully. “Your brother… David. From what I’ve seen in that book, it seems like he might’ve known something—something about all of this that we’re just beginning to understand.”

He let the name hang in the air, watching as her face tightened ever so slightly. The mention of David brought a tension to her features, her guard visibly rising. There was also a flicker of something else in her eyes…guilt maybe?

“Why did you two stop talking?” Theo asked, his voice gentle but probing. He wanted—needed—to understand. Her brother’s connection to all of this wasn’t something he could afford to overlook.

Elena’s fingers tightened around the blanket, her gaze dropping to her lap as she exhaled softly. Theo could see the hesitation in her, the way she wrestled with the memory. She didn’t speak right away, and when she did, her voice was quieter, tentative.

“Honestly, I don't know. David and I were always close, especially growing up,” she began, her words slow as though she were feeling her way through them. “David and I were best friends well into our undergraduate years. Our parents traveled a lot for work so we used to spend a lot of time together. We would talk about everything. David was always protective of me and such a good brother. He’d take me on these little adventures when we were kids, sneaking into places we shouldn’t have. We raised hell together back in the day.” A small, wistful smile appeared on her lips, but it was fleeting.

Theo watched her carefully, sensing the deeper pain beneath the surface. He didn’t push, waiting for her to continue.

“But a few years before my parents died, something changed. I don’t know why but David started distancing himself—he’d cancel plans, stay away for longer periods without explaining why. I thought maybe it was work or just life keeping him busy but after they passed…” Her voice faltered, and she looked away for a moment as if trying to gather herself. “He just stopped talking to me. I could barely get him to answer my calls or texts. It was like he wanted nothing to do with me...”

Theo could sense her pain slipping through her quiet pauses.

“I don’t know what happened.” She said it more to herself than to him and he could hear confusion mixed in with the sadness.

Theo’s chest tightened. The feeling of loss and confusion was not unfamiliar to him. A part of him wanted to end the conversation there for her sake but he needed more information.

“And your parents,” Theo asked softly after a beat, “What happened to them?”

Elena’s gaze softened, and a sad but warm smile tugged at her lips. “They met on an expedition,” she began a quiet fondness lacing her voice. “My father was an archaeologist, my mother a historian. They were so… passionate about what they did. I always admired that about them.” She paused, her smile fading slightly. “They traveled together, explored old ruins, pieced history back together.”

Theo watched her intently, noting the way her face lit up when she spoke of them, despite the sadness that hovered beneath the surface.

“Four years ago,” she continued, her voice softening, “they went to examine some ancient ruins. It was supposed to be routine. But… the structure collapsed while they were inside. They didn’t survive.”

Theo swallowed, the ache in her words cutting through the stillness in the room. He wanted to offer some kind of comfort, but he knew words would never be enough. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, the words feeling small against the weight of her loss.

Elena glanced up at him, her eyes reflecting a sadness that was deep but somehow still tender. “They were good people. They would have liked you.”

Her words caught him off guard, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. It felt important somehow, the fact that she said it. He found himself smiling faintly, despite everything. “They sound like they were incredible.”

“They were,” Elena replied, the warmth returning to her voice. “They were the best people I knew.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was comfortable, the fire casting a soft glow over the room.

After some time, Elena shifted slightly, pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders. “I need to get back to the university,” she said softly. “I have exams to proctor, and the artifact… it’s still in my office. I can’t just leave it there.”

Theo frowned, concern flashing in his eyes. “It’s not safe for you to go alone.”

Elena gave him a soft but resolute look, her voice calm. “I can’t stay here forever, Theo. I need to get back to some sense of normalcy.”

He wanted to protest, to tell her it was too dangerous. But he also understood her need for normalcy, the desire to regain some control over her life. And as much as he hated the thought of her going back into the world without him there to protect her, he couldn’t keep her here.

“You’ll be careful?” he asked, his voice lower now, filled with quiet concern.

“I will,” she promised, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

Theo sighed, glancing out the window as the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains. He couldn’t go with her, not during the day. The hunger he had been pushing aside tugged at him, a sharp reminder that he needed to feed. But that could wait. For now, his focus was on her.

As Elena left the room, Theo stayed by the window. The weight of everything he had learned still lingered, heavy in his mind. But in those brief moments with Elena, something had changed, something he couldn’t quite put into words. It hovered there, unspoken, fragile—but unmistakable all the same.