Grumbling caws broke up the night as the deeper shadows disgorged their black souled denizens. The night wrapped its velvet darkness around them, the chill of the night a far cry from the biting teeth of winter. The promise of spring was in the air, a taste on the wind, a tingle at the back of the tongue. Soon, the pure beauty of death would lose its grip on the world and life would start its cancerous growth again.

Silver shadows dappled the path, teasing the eyes with illusion and wonder. The children of the abyss could be holding anything in their folds. The blessed night blinded all but the few born to it, those adapted to its tricksome haunts hunted with impunity in its stygian depths, but those grown in the stark light of the sun were lost in its terror filled waters. Mercurial and ever-changing, the moon smiled slyly, promising nothing but the wonderlands of deception.

They walked in silence across campus, hands bumping each other with a regularity that could only be planned. This late at night no one was out, everyone seeking the warmth of the dorms and the company of friends. Ravens winged between the trees and darted through the branches, rough feathers rustling a comforting symphony of protection. Black eyes glittered down on the two as the moonlight turned deaths eyes into glittering obsidian chips.

Cesare looked over at the woman, breath catching at her beauty. This is where Elizabeth belonged, in the moonlight with silver rays caressing her pale face, steps graceful even on the uneven ground as the earth cradled its favored child. Clothed in shades of shadow, she was pure and dark, an illusion and an irrefutable truth rolled into one. And more than anything, she was the woman he loved.

The forest path welcomed her in a way it never had him. Branches bent out of her way even as her hands caressed along leaves. The earth moved under her feet, a support she never worried about. Roots that seemed to stretch out of the darkness to trip Cesare, slithered away from her with a sense of deepest respect.

She led the way into the corridor of thorns, an undulation of adoration flowing over the forest of black spears. The wicked thorns washed away from her with the deferential gentleness of a lover that had pined for its beloved. While he may use the place, it was hers in body and soul.

Coming out of the black corridor, Cesare slipped up beside her. “Thank you.” His words were a blasphemy against the sanctity of silence that held the night. “For working on the clearing while I was gone. It’s wonderful.”

Elizabeth’s words were as quiet as his. “I … didn’t know what else to do. You were gone, and while I knew you’d be back, I couldn’t let go of the thought that you might decide I wasn’t worth coming back to.”

He didn’t know what to say. You can’t go back and undo the wounds you place on other souls. Crippling came easy while healing left only scars. “I was mad, angry at you and myself. What I said was wrong.”

Elizabeth stood quietly, not accepting his words but not rejecting them either. He wouldn’t have forgiven him for what he’d done, and he didn’t expect her to. Forgiveness didn’t mean much to him. He’d said the words, the pain they caused were his responsibility.

“I was thinking of setting up some chairs and a canopy.” Elizabeth turned to him as he talked. “I spar with Alexandra while Anastasia meditates, and then they switch. I’d like a place for us to sit and plan, something for Anastasia to sit on that isn’t the ground, and a sparring area might be nice too,” Cesare said, walking over the area as he talked.

Elizabeth followed, face lost in shadows with only pale glimpses shown as moonlight filtered through clouds. “You work out with Viktor, train with Tamlin, and after spending hours being worked to the bone, you spar with Gods Butcher?” The dry tone couldn’t hide the concern lurking under its skin.

Shrugging self-consciously, Cesare looked around the clearing. “It came on suddenly. The first weeks of working with Viktor were hell, and I think Tamlin was trying to see if he could beat me into shape. It was all I could do to show up at class for weeks. Then I just … adapted. When the opportunity came to spar with Alexandra, I couldn’t resist. Strong, fast, and gifted beyond anything I’d ever seen, she’s the perfect sparring partner. I’ll never be her equal, but that’s what makes her perfect, she will always be better.”

“You push too hard,” Elizabeth’s whispered.

“I’ll either get stronger or die.” It was the choice he’d made. He would be reborn in this crucible, or die by inches as he was flensed of life. Power, he’d sold his soul for it, and there was no going back for him.

Sighing in resignation, Elizabeth looked at the area. “You can’t bring furniture into the clearing, the corridor of thorns is too narrow. After being touched by the Old Ones this land is sacred, I won't allow mass produced garbage to profane their blessing. If you want what you’re describing, I’ll have to make it.”

Grinning at her, his words were just this side of victorious. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

The somber mood broke as Elizabeth laughed at his sudden boyishness. Sipping tea, they traded plans back and forth. There was no way she could get it done tonight. But as they decided on the look and feel of the clearing, he knew it wouldn’t be long before they were back. It made the place more than a gift, transmuting it into a living bridge between them, the beating heart of a friendship he treasured.

Walking the range, Cesare pointed out the blasted remains of the bamboo dummies to her wondering eyes. “Anastasia’s stronger, a lot stronger. We’ll be showcasing her raw power in the next fight, instead of her mastery of the battlefield. They need to be in awe of her, to see her as a goddess, untouchable, more than flesh.”

Walking to one of the bamboo targets, Elizabeth’s fingers traced the jagged spars of blasted wood. “You’ve made her this strong …” Elizabeth words were curiously weighed with importance.

“She made herself strong,” Cesare stated simply. “She comes here every day no matter what commitments she has, working for hours, pushing herself until she collapses. If I bought a book on bodybuilding, you wouldn’t give the credit for my muscles to the author.”

Elizabeth’s gesture swept over the broken remains of the bamboo army. “She wasn’t following a book, Cesare. You make those meditations she falls into, crafting the mind scape’s she travels through. You push her to give everything she has, recording every success and adjusting the curriculum for every failure.” Shaking her head, she let her arm drop in resignation. “Not that you’ll admit it.”

Cesare took in the shattered remains of the targets. The burnt and broken bamboo filled him with pride. To know he helped Anastasia make it this far. He wouldn’t share that his prana had exponentially increased her murderous strength, that didn’t need to go beyond him and Anastasia.

He just didn’t look at it the way Elizabeth did. He knew Anastasia couldn’t have reached this level without him. She’d been lost on how to train her power, the potential of a goddess but no way to pull it out. Together they were an apocalyptic force.

But it was still her that did the work, that made the sacrifices necessary to own her power. All he’d ever wanted was for others to take a chance on him, for anyone to see something more than worthless. She’d always wanted to be strong, all he was doing was showing her the path, she was the one walking it.

Elizabeth turned away. “I’ll need to spend some time on them, add wards to their structure. Give them resistance to her power.”

“You can do that?” Cesare asked, mind spinning at the uses a power like that could have in a fight.

Her hand continued its caress of the broken bamboo target as she smirked over at him. “Part of being a wielder of the Anima Terra is crafting wards. You’ve seen the ones I’ve placed around my Sanctuarium.Algiz would make it stronger and harder, Inguz to protect it from one of her elements fire, ice, acid, or electricity, the options are limited only by my skill. Either would make it almost impossible for her to destroy them.”

Looking at the way her hands ran over the remains of the bamboo target, it was painfully clear her creations were more than just plants to her. They were living things transformed by her power, beautiful and bewitching, each was a priceless work of art. But for her, the most important part was that they were living creatures, birthed through her hands, nurtured by her love. “Can you place them on people?”

“No, my power is the earth, and I can only protect her children. Things of wood, stone, and the earth, those blessings that are part of her bounty,” Elizabeth said regretfully. “Of all the Chthonic, the Anima Terraare the only ones that can create permanent things of power.” Her voice dropped as she said the last bit, eyes darting away from Cesare.

“What do you mean?” Cesare asked, voice as quiet as hers.

“My people have many powers, but just as no two elements are the same so too are our powers different. The elements we wield are not only mediums that our powers move through, they are primal forces that move to their own tides. Anima Terra is about the earth and her children, lasting through the vagaries of time, weathering the predations of humans and Umbrae Lunae. She endures through the storms that tear and whip at her flesh, the fires that ooze out of the scars in her body, and the things that crawl across her skin and dig into her bones. That’s her power, a lasting legacy the other elements don’t have.”