The morning after Corix's passing was shrouded in a heavy silence. The Misty Woods felt muted, as though the forest itself mourned his loss. The air was colder than usual, and each breath Raelyn took seemed to draw deeper into the ache settling in her chest. She sat on the wooden bench outside the healer's hut, her legs drawn close to her body. Her white robes were wrinkled and smudged with dirt from the previous day, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Rakz curled tightly on her lap, his sapphire scales warm against her cold hands. The little creature, usually brimming with energy and curiosity, was still, as if he, too, felt the gravity of the loss. He nudged her hand with his snout, a soft chirp escaping him, but even his attempts at comfort felt distant. Raelyn stared blankly at the horizon where soft rays of dawn pierced through the trees, their golden light filtering through the mist like the faintest promise of hope she couldn't yet grasp.

The crunch of boots on the ground drew her attention. Hovan approached, his broad shoulders framed by the golden morning light. His dark hair, still damp from an early wash, clung to his face, and his mohawk was slightly disheveled. He stopped a few paces away, his gaze heavy as it rested on her. For a long moment, neither spoke, the shared weight of their loss filling the space between them.

Raelyn broke the silence first, her voice trembling as she whispered, "It's not fair, Hovan. He was supposed to be here with us, guiding us. How can we do this without him?"

Hovan's lips pressed into a thin line. He exhaled deeply before stepping closer and lowering himself onto the bench beside her. His large frame made the wood creak, but the sound was grounding in the otherwise ethereal quiet. He rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped as he looked at the forest floor.

"Corix believed in you, Raelyn," he said softly, his voice low but steady. "He wouldn't have made that choice otherwise. He believed, to his last breath, that you would find the weapon of the gods and rid us of that demon scum."

Raelyn shook her head, tears spilling down her pale cheeks. "I don't see it," she said, her voice breaking. "I feel... lost. What if I fail? What if I can't do this? I'm not strong enough, Hovan. I'm just a scared girl pretending to be brave." Her voice cracked on the last word, and she buried her face in her hands, her shoulders trembling.

Hovan let the silence hang between them for a moment before he reached out, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. His grip was firm but gentle, his calloused fingers grounding her as his voice softened. "You are brave, Raelyn. Bravery isn't about being unafraid; it's about standing up despite your fears. Corix saw that in you. I see that in you."

Raelyn looked at him, her wide eyes brimming with tears and fear. "Promise me, Hovan," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Promise me you won't die, that you won't leave me alone. I can't do this without you."

Hovan's jaw tightened, and he turned to face her fully. His brown eyes softened, a rare tenderness breaking through his usual stoicism. "Raelyn," he began, his deep voice steady but laced with emotion. "I swear to you. As long as you need me, I'll be here. I'll fight by your side, I'll protect you, and I'll see this through with you. You won't have to do this alone."

Raelyn's lip quivered as she nodded, clutching Rakz closer to her chest. "Thank you," she whispered. "I... I don't think I could bear losing anyone else."

"You won't lose me," Hovan said firmly. "Not now, not ever."

They sat in the quiet stillness of the morning, the bond between them deepening as they drew strength from each other. Though the pain of their loss remained, Raelyn felt a small spark of hope rekindle in the depths of her heart. It was faint and fragile, but it was enough to keep her going. For now, it would have to be.

Later that day, with the elves' guidance, they prepared Corix's burial in the clearing where he had trained Raelyn. The place was serene, a patch of soft grass surrounded by towering trees whose branches intertwined like protective arms. 

The elves worked in solemn silence, their movements graceful and deliberate as they constructed a simple shrine. Woven branches were bent and shaped into a delicate arch, and smooth river stones were carefully placed at the base. Flowers—pale blue and soft white—were scattered across the site, their faint fragrance mingling with the earth's natural scent. The shrine was not grand, but it exuded a timeless beauty that felt fitting for someone like Corix.

Raelyn watched the elves work, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her chest felt hollow, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on her shoulders. Rakz sat by her feet, his golden eyes fixed on the scene, his usual energy subdued.

When an elder approached her, his long silver hair swaying gently in the breeze, his question was quiet but pointed. "Which god did Corix pray to? We will mark the shrine with their symbol to guide his spirit."

Raelyn froze, her breath catching in her throat. The elder's words brought back Corix's confession from the night before—the way he had spoken of his bitterness, his abandonment of the gods after losing Sonea. She shook her head slowly, her voice trembling but firm. "No gods," she said. "He didn't believe in them anymore."

The elder frowned slightly, his brows knitting together. "Then what shall we carve? Without a god's blessing, the shrine will—"

"Carve her name," Raelyn interrupted, her voice stronger now, though her throat ached with emotion. "Sonea. His wife. Let them be together in the afterlife, wherever that may be. That's what he would have wanted."

The elder regarded her for a moment, his expression softening. He nodded and turned back to the shrine, his hands moving with delicate precision as he etched the name into the smooth wood of the arch: Sonea.

When the shrine was complete, the elves stepped back, their heads bowed respectfully. Raelyn and Hovan approached the grave in silence. The shrine stood as a testament not just to Corix's life, but to his love, his sacrifices, and the hope that he might find peace at last.

Raelyn knelt before it, her fingers brushing the soft grass. Her tears fell freely now, tracing silent paths down her cheeks as she struggled to find the words that felt so inadequate for the depth of her grief.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "For everything. For believing in me when I couldn't. For standing by us, for protecting us. I... I promise, Corix, I'll make this mean something. I'll make you proud. I won't let your sacrifice be in vain."

Her voice faltered, and she pressed her hands to her heart, clutching the locket beneath her robes. She could feel its faint warmth, a comforting presence amidst the cold ache of her loss.

Beside her, Hovan stood tall, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His dark eyes were fixed on the shrine, his expression stoic but his grief palpable in the tension of his jaw and the set of his shoulders. "You were a stubborn old man," he said softly, his voice carrying a rare gentleness. "But you were right—about Raelyn, about this fight, about what needs to be done. We'll finish what you started, old man. You have my word."

Raelyn looked up at Hovan, her tear-streaked face filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination. She rose slowly, her knees shaky, and placed a hand on the arch of the shrine. Her fingers lingered over Corix's name, tracing the letters as if anchoring herself to the promise she had made.

"I'll carry your lessons with me," she said quietly. "Not just the magic, but everything you taught me. Your strength, your faith. I won't forget. Not ever."

The wind whispered through the clearing, rustling the leaves in a way that felt almost like a response. Raelyn stepped back, her gaze lingering on the shrine. The sight of Sonea's name etched in the wood beside Corix's brought a small measure of peace, though the ache in her heart remained.

The elves bowed their heads one last time before departing, leaving Raelyn and Hovan alone with their grief. They stayed there for a long while, the silence between them heavy but comforting. There were no more words to say, only the unspoken vow they both carried in their hearts: to honor Corix by seeing their mission through to the end.

When they finally returned to the village, the sun was dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows across the Misty Woods. Their belongings had been packed, the horses saddled and waiting. The elves had prepared everything with quiet efficiency, even offering two cloaked warriors to ride in the opposite direction, creating a false trail to mislead any demon pursuers.

Raelyn stood at the edge of the village, her gaze drifting back toward the clearing one last time. 

Hovan placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch steadying. "Time to go," he said gently.

She nodded, her fingers tightening around the reins of her horse. With one last look at the Misty Woods, she mounted, her heart heavy but resolute. Hovan followed suit, and together they rode toward the edge of the forest, their path taking them deeper into the unknown.

For a long while, neither spoke. The silence between them was filled with unspoken grief, their thoughts consumed by the loss of their mentor and the daunting journey ahead. The forest thinned as they rode, the dense canopy giving way to open skies. They were careful when leaving the line of trees, making sure the coast was clear before they dashed out into the open.

The Misty Woods fell behind them as they rode in silence, the path ahead stretching endlessly into the unknown. The pain of their loss lingered, unspoken but palpable. When they finally slowed their pace, the weight of the day seemed to settle even more heavily on their shoulders.

Hovan glanced at Raelyn, her face pale and drawn with exhaustion. He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Why did the librarian go to the wizarding school?"

Raelyn blinked, startled by the sudden question. She turned to him, confusion etched on her face. "What?"

"To improve her spell-ing." Hovan said, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile.

For a moment, Raelyn simply stared at him, her mind struggling to process the absurdity of his words. And then, despite the grief clawing at her heart, a weak, fragile smile broke through. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Hovan's grin widened slightly as he turned his gaze back to the road ahead. "See? Told you I could tell a joke."

Raelyn shook her head, a faint laugh escaping her. "That was terrible."

"Terrible enough to make you smile," Hovan replied, his tone light but carrying a warmth that eased some of the heaviness in the air.

They rode on in silence once more, the weight of their grief remained, but so did their resolve. Together, they pressed forward, carrying Corix's memory and the promise to see his mission through.