The night air was cool against Elara's skin as she stood in the small park just outside the university campus. The city lights blurred in the distance, but none of the illumination reached the space where she stood, consumed by her thoughts. Every nerve in her body was alive with anger and confusion, her heart a storm of emotions that she didn't know how to sort through.
Lysander's words echoed in her mind—*You're the key to the prophecy. You have powers you don't understand.* She couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal. Had everything they'd shared been a lie? Had he only been getting close to her because of what she might represent? Was she just a pawn in a game that she never signed up for?
"Elara."
She froze at the sound of his voice, quiet and tentative. She didn't turn around. She couldn't. Not yet.
"Lysander, don't," she said, her voice cold, though it trembled with the weight of everything she wanted to say but couldn't. She kept her back to him, staring at the distant skyline. "I need to think."
"You've been avoiding me all day. Why won't you talk to me?" Lysander's voice was strained now, filled with frustration, yet there was an undeniable urgency beneath his words.
Turning to face him, Elara's chest tightened. His tall frame stood just a few feet away, his usually composed face now etched with concern. But all she could feel was the hurt. The betrayal.
"You've been keeping secrets from me," she said, her voice louder than she intended, but the words had been building up inside her since their conversation earlier. "You knew everything. And you didn't tell me! You let me fall for you, Lysander, and you never thought to tell me about *any* of this?"
Lysander winced at the accusation, his eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. "I didn't want to hurt you, Elara. I thought… I thought it was better if you lived your life without the weight of all this."
She laughed, though it was bitter and hollow. "Oh, so it was better to lie to me? To keep me in the dark while you played the perfect, charming boy? While you let me fall for someone who—who was only ever supposed to use me?"
"No!" Lysander's voice raised with desperation. He stepped forward, reaching for her arm, but she pulled away sharply, her eyes flashing with anger. "I never wanted to use you. I never wanted any of this. I was trying to protect you from it. I thought if I kept you safe from the truth, you'd be able to live a normal life—something you deserve."
"A normal life?" Elara's chest tightened with emotion, her voice thick with sarcasm. "You really think I could have a normal life? Do you think it's normal to be an orphan, to feel like you don't belong anywhere? That was the life I had before I met you! And now, I find out that my whole existence is tied to some prophecy? That I'm the key to some war between families I didn't even know existed? *That* is normal, Lysander?"
Lysander looked pained, as if her words were striking deeper than he wanted to admit. "I didn't choose this for you, Elara. I didn't choose any of this. But the truth is, you're more powerful than you realize. And I—I wanted to keep you safe from all of it."
Elara's heart thundered in her chest, each beat heavy with the hurt she couldn't process. "Safe?" she repeated, her voice breaking. "If you really wanted to keep me safe, you would've told me the truth from the beginning. You would've trusted me with the truth, Lysander. I might not have understood it, but I would've wanted to know."
"I couldn't risk you getting involved. I couldn't risk you becoming a target." His voice softened, the anguish in his eyes growing more evident. "The Rival Families… they're already after you, Elara. I had to keep you away from all of this for as long as I could. I wanted to protect you."
"And now you want me to believe you?" Elara's voice shook with both disbelief and anger. She looked at him, her eyes full of unshed tears, but her pride refused to let them fall. "You lied to me. You kept me in the dark. And now you expect me to just accept everything you've said? To accept that I'm the key to something I don't even understand?"
Lysander took a step back, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know how to explain any of this. But you have to understand, Elara… you have to see that you're not just an orphan anymore. You're not just a normal girl. You're part of a legacy—something that has been foretold for centuries."
She shook her head, the idea of all of it crashing down on her like a wave. "I don't want to be part of your legacy. I don't want to be part of your world. I'm just… I'm just me. I don't have any place in all this magic and prophecy. I've already been through enough, Lysander. And now you're telling me I'm supposed to be someone I'm not?"
Lysander's expression faltered, pain clouding his features. "You're the only person I trust, Elara. The only one who sees me for who I am and not what I'm supposed to be. I need you to understand, you're not alone in this."
But Elara felt more alone than ever. The betrayal she felt wasn't just about the secrets Lysander had kept from her. It was about the way he had made her feel special, important—even loved—only for her to discover that her value was based on something more than who she was as a person. She was the key to a prophecy, to a future neither of them had asked for.
"I don't know who I am anymore," she said softly, her voice cracking under the weight of everything she couldn't understand. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be."
Lysander reached out again, this time gently, but she stepped back. "You're Elara," he said, his voice low. "You're the girl I care about. You're more than the prophecy, more than the magic. Don't lose yourself to it."
She looked at him, but the hurt in her heart felt like a chasm. "I don't even know who *you* are anymore, Lysander," she whispered, her voice raw. "You're not the person I thought you were."
And with that, she turned away, leaving him standing in the darkness, his heart breaking as he realized just how far apart they had drifted.