Villain's Last Chance
Chapter 43: Fractured Truths

Chapter 43: Fractured Truths

(Elara’s POV)

Cairon’s gaze burned into me like a brand, sharp and unyielding. Even in the dim glow of the campfire, I could feel the weight of it pressing against my skin. There was something about the way he looked at me that unsettled me—like he wasn’t seeing me at all, but something lurking beneath my flesh.

I clenched my hands into fists beneath the folds of my cloak. It was always like this. He studied me as though I were a puzzle he had yet to solve, and every time I thought I had a grasp on what he was thinking, he would shift, unpredictable as ever.

The fire crackled between us, throwing flickering shadows across his face, sharpening the hard lines of his jaw and the unreadable depths of his eyes.

I had long since stopped expecting warmth from him, but there was something different about tonight. A tension I couldn’t quite place.

"You knew," I murmured, breaking the silence. "Didn’t you?"

His expression didn’t change, but I saw the slight twitch in his fingers, the way his shoulders stiffened. A barely perceptible shift—one I might not have noticed before. But now? I had spent too much time under his scrutiny not to see the cracks.

"I’ve always known," he said evenly.

A chill ran through me. "From the beginning?"

Cairon exhaled, slow and measured, as if weighing how much he wanted to tell me. "The moment I saw you."

A shiver crawled up my spine, though not from the cold. The weight of his words settled heavily in my chest. I had always suspected, but to hear him admit it outright...

He had known. From the very beginning, he had known that I wasn’t truly Elara.

That I was him.

The villain he had killed.

I forced myself to keep my expression neutral, though my thoughts were anything but calm. My heart pounded against my ribs, a frantic, uneasy rhythm.

If he had known all this time... why hadn’t he done anything? Why had he allowed me to stay by his side?

And more importantly—why hadn’t he killed me?

"Why didn’t you say anything?" I asked, my voice quieter now.

Cairon’s jaw tightened. He looked away, staring into the fire as if the answers were hidden in the flames. For a long time, he didn’t speak.

I watched him carefully, searching for any sign of deception. This was my greatest enemy—the man who had once sworn to see me dead. And yet... there was something else in his gaze now, something I couldn’t quite define.

Regret? No. That wasn’t an emotion he allowed himself.

But there was something.

Something that shouldn’t be there.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost unreadable.

"Because you weren’t him."

My breath caught.

I hadn’t realized how much I had braced myself for a different answer—an accusation, a declaration of vengeance. But this...

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the strange, twisting feeling in my chest. "You were so sure?"

Cairon’s gaze met mine again, and for the first time, I saw the full weight of his conflict laid bare.

"No," he admitted. "I wasn’t."

The world seemed to tilt slightly at his words.

I had spent so long thinking I was the only one struggling with this—this fractured identity, this battle between past and present. But now I realized I wasn’t alone in it.

Cairon had been fighting, too.

And somehow, that was even more terrifying than the alternative.

-----

I couldn’t sleep.

The night stretched endlessly around us, thick with the hum of unseen creatures and the rustle of leaves in the cold wind. I sat near the dwindling fire, watching the flames flicker and cast jagged shadows against the trees.

Cairon was awake, too. I could feel his presence even without looking.

How long had he known? How long had he been carrying that knowledge, keeping it to himself while watching me navigate Elara’s life? It unsettled me in ways I didn’t want to admit.

I turned my gaze toward him, studying the way the firelight highlighted the sharp planes of his face. His silver eyes were unreadable, yet there was something in them now—something different from before.

"Say it," I finally muttered.

He didn’t move. "Say what?"

"Whatever is on your mind. You’ve been looking at me like that for the past hour."

Cairon exhaled sharply, tilting his head slightly as if considering his words. "I’m wondering who I’m really traveling with."

I scoffed. "You already answered that for yourself."

"Did I?" His voice was softer than I expected. "I thought I knew. I thought I had you figured out."

There it was again—that flicker of uncertainty in him.

I hated it.

I hated that I didn’t know what it meant.

"What do you see when you look at me?" I asked, my voice quieter now.

Cairon held my gaze. "A contradiction."

The words sent an unexpected chill down my spine.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his expression unreadable. "You’re not just the villain I killed. But you’re not Elara either. So tell me—who are you now?"

I didn’t have an answer.

The truth was, I had spent so much time trying to survive, trying to outmaneuver the world that had turned against me, that I hadn’t stopped to question who I had become.

I was no longer the man who had burned cities and bathed in blood. But I also wasn’t the woman whose face I now wore.

Cairon’s gaze sharpened. "You hesitate again."

"Maybe because there’s no simple answer."

A tense silence settled between us.

And then, to my surprise, he smirked.

"That’s what makes this interesting."

I frowned. "Interesting?"

"You, this, everything." He gestured vaguely. "You’ve defied every expectation. Even my own."

There was something dangerous in his voice. Something I wasn’t sure how to handle.

Cairon had hated me.

He had wanted me dead.

And yet, here we were.

His eyes darkened, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower, rougher.

"I should have killed you when I realized the truth."

A slow smile curled my lips. "But you didn’t."

His jaw tightened, his fingers curling into fists. "No. I didn’t."

I tilted my head, studying him. "Why?"

For the first time, he didn’t have an immediate answer.

And that was the most interesting thing of all.

Cairon’s gaze lingered on me, unreadable, before he turned away and began securing our path forward.

I exhaled sharply, trying to steady my thoughts, but they spun wildly in my head. My conversation with him had left me rattled, not just because of what he had said but because of what it implied. He had known, from the very beginning, that I was not Elara. That revelation should have filled me with terror, but instead, it sparked something else—frustration.

Why had he kept it to himself? If he had truly seen me as his enemy, he would have struck me down the moment he realized. But he didn’t. He stayed. He followed. He protected.

Why?

I clenched my fists and turned my focus back to our surroundings. The air had grown colder, the dense treeline closing in like a vice. It wasn’t just the night making my skin prickle—there was something here. Something watching.

"Cairon," I said lowly.

"I sense it too," he responded immediately, already drawing his blade.

The shadows in the distance thickened, warping unnaturally. A low hum vibrated through the ground beneath us. The Codex in my satchel pulsed.

And then, they emerged.

Figures, robed and faceless, stepped into the clearing, their presence suffocating the very air around us. There was no warning, no pretense of diplomacy—only raw hostility.

One of them lifted a hand, and a sharp force slammed into me, sending me staggering back. Cairon moved instantly, intercepting another strike meant for my chest, his blade clashing against unseen energy.

"We don’t have time for this," he hissed, pushing forward, his movements precise and lethal.

But even as he cut through the first attacker, more emerged, forming a near-circle around us.

I reached for the Codex, feeling its power hum against my fingertips. I didn’t know if I could wield it yet, not fully, but hesitation would get me killed.

Closing my eyes, I let the energy swirl through me, let it whisper in a language I barely understood. And when I opened them again—

The battlefield changed.

Shadows danced, curling at my feet like living creatures. The air trembled with raw power. And for the first time since stepping into this new existence, I didn’t feel helpless.

I felt alive.

"Move," Cairon ordered, but his voice held something new.

Wariness.

Because he had seen this before.

He had seen me before.

Cairon sheathed his blade, but his eyes never left me. Even with the robed figures gone, tension still crackled in the air like a lingering storm.

"We need to keep moving," he said, voice clipped.

I knew he was right, but my mind was still spinning. The way the figures had looked at me, the way they spoke—The cycle is shifting.

I had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.

Without another word, I forced my legs to move, stepping beside Cairon as we left the clearing. We moved quickly, silent except for the crunch of leaves beneath our boots. The weight of the Codex felt heavier than before, as if it had absorbed the tension of the battle.

After some time, the trees thinned, giving way to a narrow mountain pass. The air was thinner here, sharp and cold, and the night sky stretched endlessly above us.

Cairon finally spoke. "Your magic. It’s evolving."

I shot him a look. "No shit."

His brow twitched slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he slowed his pace, turning to face me fully. "You didn’t hesitate back there."

I crossed my arms. "Should I have?"

"No." He studied me, his gaze heavy. "But you enjoyed it."

The accusation sent a ripple through me. I opened my mouth to deny it—

And then stopped.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

The power, the control—it had felt good. Too good. The way the shadows obeyed me, the way I could stop my enemies with a flick of my wrist... it had sent a thrill through me that I couldn’t ignore.

And he had noticed.

I swallowed hard, looking away. "Does it matter?"

Cairon’s jaw tightened. "It does if you let it consume you."

Something about his tone made my chest tighten. Not just the words themselves, but the way he said them.

Like he had seen it happen before.

Like he had watched someone fall.

I clenched my fists. "I’m not—"

"You’re not him," Cairon cut in. His voice was quieter now. "But that doesn’t mean you’re safe from the same fate."

The wind howled through the pass, filling the silence that stretched between us.

I didn’t know what to say.

Because for the first time... I wasn’t sure if I was safe from it.

But I couldn’t afford to dwell on that now.

So I straightened, forcing steel into my spine. "We should keep moving."

Cairon studied me for a moment longer, then gave a short nod.

We walked on.

But the silence between us was no longer just silence.

It was a battlefield of unspoken truths.

And I wasn’t sure who would win.

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