Page 303 of Elemental Becoming

Her voice softens.

“Even if fate itself tries to pull you apart, this ring will find a way to bring you back to each other. It has been worn by warriors, rulers, and by those who carried great burdens. It has survived war, exile, bloodshed, and ruin, and yet it has never been lost. Never forgotten.”

She lifts her gaze to mine. “Do you know why?”

I shake my head.

“Because it always finds its way home.”

The moment seems to crystallize around us.

Then Rowena abruptly slaps both of us in the chest.

“And home is the two of you!”

Both Thane and I flinch.

“Gods, Rowena,” I sputter.

Thane chuckles, rubbing a hand over his chest.

The ring hums against my skin and I glance up at him.

He isn’t laughing anymore. He watches me quietly, completely unguarded, as though he’s waiting for me to understand. And then, like fog lifting from a landscape, I finally see it clearly.

This ring is not just about love or about the future he hopes we might have.

It’s about the war.

For weeks now, we’ve had this time. A fragile, stolen peace amidst the chaos. Even with the council meetings, training, magics practice, and endless afternoons spent buried in research, we’ve still had each other. We’ve stolen moments whenever we could, finding solace in quiet touches, shared glances across crowded war tables, and whispered conversations before dawn.

He’s held me through the night, his arms wrapped around me, his presence a constant. And in the morning, I woke up to find him still there, his love never in question.

But who knows what tomorrow brings?

We have no idea what the future holds. No idea if the events ahead will tear us apart, if the choices we make will scatter us across the realm and force us onto paths neither of us can control.

And if that happens, if distance, battle, or fate itself tries to sever what we’ve built, this ring will help us find our way back to each other.

I turn my hand slightly, watching the onyx catch the light. The dark stone glimmers faintly, the ancient magics within it humming beneath the surface.

I lift my gaze to Thane.

There is no hesitation in his expression. No doubt. He knew exactly what this meant when he gave it to me.

Because he knows the cost of war.

The last decade has been quieter than the ones before it. The attacks became less frequent, and when they came, they were scattered and uncoordinated. Until the ball, no Commander had been seen in years. Mostly, it had been Fellborn slipping through weakening wards.

But no one who truly understood the war believed the peace would last.

The conversations behind the closed doors of war rooms, the scholars buried deep within the great archives, and the seers of the Water Clan all pointed to the same conclusion.

Something is building.

Something is coming.

Thane has lived with that certainty since he was a boy. He has felt the weight longer than I have, carrying its burdens long before I became the Spiritborn.