Chapter 17 / A tantrum

September 1st, 15.001

Ravelyn’s Alley Entrance — Border of the Velmore Alps, Umbra

The convoy rolled down the last curve of the mountain pass, and the world changed.

Behind them, the Alps, still visible in jagged spines, were white with lingering snow. Ahead stretched a valley that was no valley at all but a long, ancient corridor: Ravelyn’s Alley. A winding road built centuries ago, it was half-swallowed now by rockslides and roots, leading straight into the forests that sprawled beyond.

The air felt heavier here. Damp instead of crisp, clinging instead of clear. Light dimmed though the sun was still above, filtered through a canopy not yet thick but already green with summer’s weight. Moss spread across broken rocks, and vines wrapped around the milestones that still lined the way, their letters eroded in a script almost no one alive could read.

Eloise leaned forward against the van’s dashboard, nose nearly pressed to the glass. “It looks… older than the mountains.”

“It is,” Sukira said flatly from the wheel. “Older than most of Umbra’s routes. This was the first path the clans cut when they left the ancient woods, under Ravelyn’s guidance.”

Ravelyn’s Alley took its name from the figure most vampires claimed as their first ancestor. Ravelyn was said to have been the first demon born from the dark magic of Calamities, and the only one to walk away from it. Unlike her kin, she turned from corruption and chose to live among smaller, simpler creatures, shaping herself into something new—something mortal, yet stronger than humans. The stories called her the first vampire, marked by red eyes and sharpened senses, a reflection of the demon she once was.

The passage itself was one of the oldest in Umbra. Under Ravelyn’s lead, the first clans used it to leave the deep forests and settle in the mountains. Unlike the polished refuges and highways of the Alps, the Alley had never been rebuilt. It remained a scar through the land, winding across ridges and valleys, its shrines and markers worn but still standing.

Scattered vampire hamlets endured here, holding to tradition and isolation. With no wards or barriers, travel was risky. Between mountain and woodland, strange life thrived: dry-barked trees layered with moss, roots curling over rock, predators and spirits shaped by damp and shadow. To cross Ravelyn’s Alley was less about distance than persistence, for the path was as alive and temperamental as the figure who gave it her name.

No polished wards glowed here, no humming shields kept danger out. The way narrowed, forcing the vehicles into a single file, twisting between cliffs where withered pines clung to stone. Beyond the first ridges, the forest thickened: not the pale birches or alpine firs of the mountains, but a strange, shifting mix. Dark bark, twisted roots, leaves so deep green they looked nearly black. Wet shadows pooled between them, swallowing light whole.

The van jolted over uneven ground, forcing everyone to steady themselves. Ravelyn’s Alley was no highway. It was a wound cut into the land—ancient, stubborn, still holding while the world around it changed.

They set up a camp near a dry river. Night was steady but noisy.

A beast stepped through the treeline, towering and wrong. It was a stag in shape, but its limbs were too many. Its hide was plated with bark that groaned as it moved. Its antlers spread wide, dripping with black residue. Its breath steamed like smoke.

Risha jolted upright, eyes bright. “It’s like the other one—I can talk to it!” He stumbled forward, ignoring Sukira’s hand snapping up to stop him.

“Risha, no—!” Eloise screamed.

The creature moved faster than any of them expected. Its antlers swept low, catching Risha and flinging him across the ground like a rag doll.

“Risha!” Elon shouted, sprinting toward him.

Dominique moved faster and shoved past him, planting herself between the boy and the beast. Fists raised, she stood at the incoming strike, but it was worthless. The antlers smashed through her guard, slamming into her shoulder and hurling her sideways with Risha. Both crumpled to the ground.

“Domi!” Eloise dropped to her knees beside them, trembling hands searching for wounds.

Elon was already there, dragging them behind the van. His jaw was tight, voice clipped. “She’s bleeding. Pressure, now.”

This can’t be happening again. She’s bleeding so much, I can’t think. Eloise pressed her hands against Dominique’s shoulder, frantic. “She won’t stop—”

“She will,” Elon cut in, voice steady. “You just need to focus on where the leak is.” His eyes flicked briefly to Risha, coughing but enduring, thanks to Dominique, who served as a shield. 

Sukira didn’t hesitate. Her voice cut the night like a blade. “Sami. Protect them; there are more coming.”

“Gladly, boss,” Sami growled, snapping her rifle into place as shadows writhed at the treeline. Smaller beasts poured out—fox-shapes with too many teeth, carrion-birds dragging wings like blades. She smirked. “Finally. Something to shoot at.”

Jeda was already moving, sword in hand. “And the big one, ma’am?”

Sukira’s pistols slid free, her void already pulsing around her. “With me.”

He grinned, spinning the heavy blade. “Thought you’d never ask.” He threw away his burning cigarette. 

♥︎

The stag-beast roared,  residue dripping from its maw, and charged.

Sukira darted left, void bursting around her in streaks of black. Bullets cracked, echoing sharply—but each one sank into bark and vanished like drops into sand. “Fuck.” She rolled under a sweep of antlers, breath ragged. “Nothing.”

“Then let me,” Jeda snarled, slamming into its flank. His greatsword tore through its armor, wood-like flesh splintering as thick ichor sprayed hot and bitter. The monster lurched but didn’t fall.

From the campfire, Sami laughed between shots, “Stop playing, you two. I can’t shoot everything at once!” She was mowing down the minor beasts that circled. “It seems that the smaller beasts are being agitated by the presence of the bigger creature; they won’t stop coming until you kill that one.” 

“I know, I know. I’m thinking.” Sukira barked back as she noticed the same thing.

Sukira and Sami had been in countless life-threatening situations before; they were almost always in sync. 

Elon flinched at every gunshot, his hands slick with Dominique’s blood. Risha was stabilized already. “Eloise, I don’t want to put extra pressure on you, but you must hurry.”

“I know,” Eloise snapped, already muttering a string of healing runes that glowed on her skin. Her light blue eyes flicked up, tracking the fight with barely restrained fury. If Sukira falls— she bit the thought down, focusing harder.

Jeda grunted, teeth bared as antlers smashed against his guard. “It won’t drop. Damn thing’s stronger than it looks.”

Sukira slid beside him, reloading with a sharp flick. She fired again, her bullets dissolving as soon as they reached the target. Her eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“It’s you. Only that blade’s cutting it.” She paused and took a look at the blade’s design. “You’ll tell me the story of that thing later”.

Jeda’s grin faltered. His grip tightened on the hilt. “I can’t hit it clean. It’s too fast.”

Sukira holstered her pistols in one fluid motion. Her void burned brighter around her, outlining her frame. “Then I’ll slow it down, I’ll work as bait, and you’ll finish it.”

“That’s suicide.” Jeda grabbed her arm with a serious tone. 

Her gaze didn’t waver. “No, my plan does not include dying.” She leaned closer, voice steady, fierce. “I trust you’ll save me just in time. You can do it.” 

For a second, he froze. She trusts me. It slammed into him harder than any blow. No one had ever said those words to him. He was the distraction, the tool, the fool, the one who tricks. But here she was, fierce and certain, offering him that weight without hesitation.

It almost cracked him open.

He smirked instead, masking it with bravery. “Guess I’ll have to do my job right. Otherwise, Sunshine will fry me alive once you’re gone.”

Sukira smirked back, void flaring as she blurred forward. “Whatever works for you.”

♥︎

The beast roared, antlers blazing. Sukira became a streak of black and red, using her void in a way that seemed a lightning storm –darting between its strikes, vaulting, rolling, spinning to keep its focus. Antlers gouged the dirt inches from her. Her guns cracked only to pull its gaze, her void bending her body faster than mortal reflexes could track.

Jeda raised his sword high. He charged through the chaos, every muscle straining, timing his swing with her last dodge—

Steel met bone with a thunderclap.

The blade split bark and flesh clean through, spraying as the stag-beast shuddered. With one final groan like stone tearing, it collapsed into the dirt, residue burning black as it dissolved into nothing.

Sukira dropped to one knee, void fading, chest heaving. Jeda caught her, steadying her. His grip lingered.

His grin returned, softer now. “Gotcha.”

She smiled at him. “That was fun. Let’s do it again sometime”.  

No one had ever called him reliable. He’d been the loud one, the reckless one, the blade swung when no one else wanted to get their hands dirty. The kind of man you used, not the kind you trusted. But Sukira had said it plain, as if it was obvious—that she trusted him, counted on him. And it shook something loose inside him he didn’t know he still had.

And with that, Jeda realized, as he finally let her arm go, this whole situation was far more dangerous than any beast.

♥︎

The forest fell silent once the stag-beast dissolved, leaving only smoke and the stink of burned residue. The smaller creatures scattered, whining into the shadows. Sami lowered her rifle with a long sigh, spinning it once before slinging it over her shoulder.

“Not bad,” she muttered, pale-red hair sticking to her forehead with sweat. “But next time, try not to let the big one get close enough to use its horns.”

Sukira rolled her eyes, still catching her breath as Jeda steadied her. “Next time, I’ll let you stand in front of it.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Sami smirked, though her eyes flicked toward the others, worry breaking through her gaze.

Near the van, Eloise knelt by Dominique, blood on her hands but relief flooding her expression as the wound began to close under the runes. “It’s slowing. The bleeding’s slowing—”

Dominique grimaced, forcing herself upright with one arm. “I’m fine. Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re not fine,” Eloise snapped, tears glinting. “You threw yourself in without thinking. Like always.”

Dominique looked away, lips tight, but didn’t argue.

“Ugh, they’re still acting weird”, Sami whispered to Sukira. She nodded to her words. 

Risha sat propped against Cloud, dazed but grinning weakly through a split lip. “Maybe this one spoke a different language and that’s why it didn’t work…” His voice trailed as Elon’s shadow loomed over him.

Elon’s tone was calm, but the steel in it made the boy shrink. “Listen to me, Risha. You are not invincible. If Dominique hadn’t been there, you’d be dead.”

Risha looked down, fingers twisting in Cloud’s fur. “I just… wanted to help.”

Elon exhaled sharply, fighting the urge to snap harder. “Sometimes helping is staying back” He hugged the little kid with running tears. “It's okay. You are okay and also Dominique, but don’t do that again.” 

He turned then, gaze sharp as it landed on Sukira. “And you? Are you hurt?”

She waved him off with a faint smirk, swatting the air like he was an annoying fly. “Stay away, you and your healing tricks. I’m fine.”

“You nearly got skewered,” Elon said dryly.

“I nearly got skewered,” she agreed. Then she nodded toward Jeda, still at her side. “Thanks to him.”

Jeda blinked, caught off guard by the blunt credit. His cigarette fell to the floor. For once, his grin faltered, a crack of something raw showing through. Oh, she actually meant it. 

Elon studied them both for a long moment, then inclined his head to Jeda. “I guess I should thank you.” It wasn’t grudging—it was honest, if a little stiff.

Jeda cleared his throat, suddenly too aware of both their eyes on him. Took the cigarette from the floor without caring about the dirt. He tried for his usual grin, but it came out lopsided. “Well. Picture the image of me returning with her dead body in my arms to you. I’m more afraid of that than I’m afraid of any spirit, beast, or Calamity.”

Sukira chuckled, shaking her head. 

The fire was stoked again, torches set to keep the shadows back. Dominique’s wound was cleaned and bound, Risha’s bruises healed by himself, as Elon had taught him once, and the uneasy rhythm of camp resumed.

It felt nice to be seen and valued. Jeda thought to himself while cleaning his sword. 

♥︎

September 2nd, 15.001 Ravelyn’s Alley — River Camp

The group agreed to stay another day. Dominique’s wound was healing under Eloise’s runes and potions, but her balance was off again, and the fight had left everyone raw.

At dawn, the forest shifted. The dry riverbed they had camped beside overnight now ran full with cold water, rushing over pale stones as if it had never been empty. Mist clung to the surface, and birdsong carried faintly through the dense canopy.

Risha was the first to shout, tearing down the slope barefoot. “It’s back! The river’s here again!”

Sami followed with less urgency but more laughter, tossing her boots aside. “Well, if it’s going to do us a favor, might as well enjoy it.”

By midmorning, they were all there: washing, cooling, letting themselves breathe for the first time in weeks. Weapons lay piled by the bank. For a rare stretch of hours, Ravelyn’s Alley did not look like a threat.

Dominique sat on the edge of the rock, feet dangling in the cold current, chin propped on her hand. She looked younger like this, almost careless, until her fingers brushed unconsciously against the bandage crossing her face.

“You’re still not used to it,” Sukira said, her voice low. 

Dominique stiffened. “I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I pointed out.” Sukira’s tone wasn’t sharp—it was flat, steady, impossible to dodge. “You nearly got killed last night because you threw yourself in again. Losing an eye doesn’t make you weak. But pretending you’ve already healed? That’s going to kill you.”

Dominique’s lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, she said nothing, staring hard at the river as though it might give her answers. Finally, she murmured, “If I don’t stand in front of them, what good am I?”

“I don’t know,” Sukira said simply. “Find your worth in something less… ephemeral.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” Dominique laughed without humor, splashing water with her foot. “You’re… you. You are not this fragile. People see me as—” She broke off, struggling for words. “—as someone they have to protect. A stupid princess. I hate it. So if I throw myself forward first, then at least I’m proving them wrong.”

Sukira didn’t reply. She waited.

Dominique’s words tumbled faster, like stones rolling downhill. “And maybe if I’m the shield, then they won’t notice how clumsy I am, or how I can’t keep up with Eloise when she talks about plants or strategy, or how Jeda laughs like I’m a kid, or how Sami behaves so balanced compared to me—” She cut herself off, cheeks hot, realizing how much she had spilled.

Still, Sukira said nothing.

Dominique groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Spirits, I sound pathetic.”

“You sound honest,” Sukira corrected quietly.

Dominique peeked between her fingers, voice small but defensive. “I don’t want Eloise to think I’m… useless. She’s always there for everyone. And I’m just…”

Her throat tightened. She didn’t finish the sentence.

Sukira finally leaned forward, flicking ash into the river. “You haven’t given yourself time to heal, or even to know who you are without the shield.”

Dominique blinked, chewing her lip. “…And if I don’t figure it out? What if Eloise realizes she doesn’t need me?”

“Okay… we are changing the subject”, she joked, but then her voice softened. “She already needs you. Not because you throw yourself in front of blades. But because you’re you. And you haven’t even let yourself see that yet.”

Dominique swallowed hard, eyes shining though she refused to cry. She kicked at the water again, forcing her voice into its usual childish lilt. “You’re too serious.”

Sukira smirked faintly. 

That earned her a weak laugh, but Dominique’s gaze lingered on Eloise across the riverbank, and, this time, she didn’t look away.

♥︎

A little upstream, Jeda sat on a boulder with his sword across his lap, polishing the blade in silence. The metal still carried faint ichor stains, black in the morning light. Sami plopped down beside him, wet hair dripping down her shoulders, her bare feet dangling just above the water.

“You’re quiet,” she said.

He gave a crooked smile, not looking at her. His gaze lingered on the blade. He thought about avoiding the subject, but Sami gave people the space to open up with her; it was her charm. “Last night… when she said she trusted me… I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word aimed at me before. From anyone. Then Sunshine even thanked me.”

Sami tilted her head, smiling knowingly. “Feels good, huh? Being seen.”

Jeda chuckled softly, a rare sound for him. “More than good. Dangerous. I might get addicted now.”

“You’d always need to be this extra?” Sami leaned back on her elbows, amused.

He shot her a glance. “You tell me. You’ve known her longer. What is she, really? She truly does not want anyone around?”

Sami’s smile faded into something softer. She looked out at the river, steam curling off the surface. “Sukira? She’s the coldest, most caring person you’ll ever encounter. Both things are true. She’ll kill before letting someone see how much she cares. And she does care. Too much, sometimes.”

Jeda frowned slightly. “What happened to her? To make her that way?”

Sami smirked faintly, though her eyes stayed distant. “That’s intel you won’t get from me. That’s her story to tell, not mine.” 

He let that sit for a moment, polishing the blade more slowly now. “Do you think she’ll ever let herself drop the act?”

“I hope so,” Sami said simply. “I hope she lets herself be loved the same way she loves. But it’ll take someone stubborn enough to keep knocking until she opens the door.”

“Do you think she’ll let me love her?” he said in a serious, hopeful tone. With a cracked smile, he continued with her metaphor: “I could take down the door completely.” 

That earned her a laugh. Sami flicked water at him with her toes. “You don’t lack conviction, I’ll give you that. I think you’re a dangerous mix for her: smart, reckless, charming enough to make her believe you don’t care, and… you’re easy to handle.” She paused, a bit of concern in her voice. “And that’s the problem, isn’t it? You'd have to mean it if you are going after her heart.”

He leaned back, his grin softening into something more serious. “What if I already do?”

Sami raised a brow, studying him. “Try not to get killed, and good luck”. 

“Get killed by her or by Elon?” Jeda replied. 

“What about Elon?” Sami asked, playing innocent. 

Jeda scoffed. “There’s something about Sunshine. But he barely speaks more than five words at a time. I don’t understand him at all either.”

“He’s also a dangerous one,” Sami said with a sly smile, “He’s the first person I’ve seen who won’t bend to her. But it's true, I don’t know if he’s that interested.”

“Oh, he is. But he’s also a damaged person. Maybe they are perfect for each other because of that." He said and shut him up for a beat. He tapped the blade against his boot, gaze darkening. “Do I even have a chance, then?” he muttered, almost for himself. 

Sami leaned back, letting the sun catch her face. “That depends. Are you looking to win her, or love her? Because those are two very different games.”

Jeda laughed again, though there was less boldness in it this time, more of an edge. “Dangerous, huh?”

“Very,” Sami said, grinning as she leaned forward. But that’s precisely why you’ll do it anyway, right? Oh boy, how I missed drama.

He lowered his gaze back to the blade, grin faint but real. Dangerous indeed.

♥︎

Farther downstream, Elon crouched by the edge of the water, drawing runes into the damp sand. Risha sat cross-legged beside him, dripping wet, still buzzing with curiosity.

“So elemental magic is everywhere?” Risha asked, eyes wide.

“In everything,” Elon corrected, tracing a clean line. The magic trace glowed with sparky electricity before fading. “Fire, water, earth, air. They’re the foundation. We don’t create them—we redirect what’s already present.”

Risha tilted his head, impatient. “Can we do fire today?”

Elon’s jaw tightened. Again with the fire obsession? He hid the thought behind his usual calm. “No. Let’s use another element for a change. Water”

Risha pouted, but leaned forward. “Fine... Show me.”

Elon reached into the river, cupping water in his palm. He looked, and the liquid hovered, forming a sphere that shimmered in the sunlight. “Water answers to balance. You push too hard, and it collapses. Too soft, it slips away. Try.”

“Do I need to grab the water? Why can't I create the water like we do with fire?”

“You sure can, but it will take more energy from you. You need to play smart. If the element is already here, why create it?” 

Risha immediately shoved his hand into the water, splashing everywhere. For a moment, droplets lifted, wobbled in the air, then splattered across his own face. He groaned. “That’s not fair! It worked ONLY for a second!”

Elon almost smiled. “For a second is better than none. Again.”

Elemental magic was the most common form of magic, yet no two bearers wielded it the same way. Elementalists did not summon power from nowhere; they borrowed from what surrounded them, bending it briefly to their will.

Besides the elemental type of magic, most users specialized in one kind of magic, attuning themselves until it became almost instinctive. Commanding more than one requires rare talent and stricter discipline. Only a handful in history combined them, and fewer lived long enough to master it.

Risha tried again, slower this time. A thin ribbon of water lifted, shaking in the air before slipping back into the river. He gasped, eyes shining. “Did you see that??”

Elon nodded. “Yes, but keep trying.”

Eloise’s voice cut in from behind them. She stood on the bank with her satchel of herbs, watching with quiet intensity. “Not all of us can do that, you know.”

Risha splashed out the water he was making float and turned to her, blinking. “What do you mean? You’re amazing with spells. You could—”

Eloise shook her head, smiling. “White magic isn’t elemental magic. It requires spells to channel it. What you are doing here, practicing elemental magic, is making the raw energy flow using your own body as a channel.”

Risha’s brows knitted. “So… you’re better than Elon at white magic, but you can’t do any of this?”

Eloise’s laugh was soft, a little embarrassed. “Better? Maybe. But it’s different. Every bearer is unique. We’re shaped by what calls us. We can all practice and learn different types of magic, like telepathic, white, or dark magic, but the elemental one can’t be trained; it works or doesn't. No one can hold everything… Oh, yes, sorcerers can.”

Risha turned back to Elon, hopeful. “So I can, right? I am a sorcerer. Can I learn them all?”

Elon studied him in silence for a long moment. He always wants more. I just hope it's only out of curiosity. 

Finally, Elon said, “Yes. But one step at a time.”

Risha grinned, already splashing his hands into the river again.

♥︎

Sami stretched, shaking droplets from her hair before standing. “Alright. I’ve had enough confessions for one morning.” She shot Jeda a grin. “Don’t break too many hearts while I’m gone.”

“Me? I’m not capable of such a thing,” Jeda said with mock offense, though his smile lingered as she wandered back toward camp.

He sat in silence for a moment. Then he felt it: eyes on him. Sukira stood a little downstream, arms folded. She wasn’t staring hard—just watching, unreadable.

Jeda shifted, running a cloth over his blade, now ready to be put aside. “You and Elon could compete in a staring contest.”

From the corner of his eye, he caught movement: Elon, still crouched by the water, fixing him with that same sharp blue stare. The sorcerer looked between him and Sukira once, then said evenly to Risha, “Keep practicing. Don’t stop until you can hold the water steady.”

Risha frowned but obeyed, cupping his hands to try again.

Jeda rose to his feet, meeting Sukira halfway along the bank. The air thickened instantly, an unspoken current pulling all three together. Sukira stopped and said simply:

“I believe it’s Jeda’s turn now.”

Both men froze while exchanging looks.

Jeda blinked, then barked a laugh. “Of course, she knew. How stupid of us.”

Elon’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes were burning. He turned back to Risha without a word, though the way his shoulders stiffened betrayed him.

Jeda leaned closer to Sukira with a grin. “You enjoy torturing us, don’t you?”

Her smirk was razor-thin. “Every second.” She nodded at his sword. “That thing is heavier than it looks. Where’d you get it?”

Jeda swung it once, testing the weight. “Inherited. My old man had it lying around at the house, said it was useless, too heavy to carry. But I’m very stubborn and I like to prove people wrong.”

Sukira crouched, tapping ash into the dirt. “That’s blessed metal you have there. That’s no ordinary blade.”

Jeda raised a brow. “Blessed metal?”

Jeda’s sword was not ordinary, as she fairly pointed out. This weapon carried traces of old work once guided by a Blessing. Blessings, ethereal beings were rare in the present age, but centuries ago, they had laced their power into objects, places, and bloodlines. Unlike Calamities, which fed on hatred and demanded exchanges, Blessings gave freely—but only in moments of great need, and only to those they deemed worthy. Weapons touched by them endured beyond normal limits: unbreakable, unnaturally sharp, immune to rust or wear. To hold one was less ownership than stewardship, for such relics had survived generations. Jeda’s family received a batch of blessed metal centuries ago, and from time to time, they decide to use it in one of their creations. 

“From the finish on the blade, I’d say a human couple made it—smiths from Concordia.” She said. 

Jeda raised a brow. “You know them?”

“My guns are theirs, too.” She voided one, turning it in her hand. “Not bullet-fed. They use friction magic, pulled from the environment, blended with gunpowder, which I have to refill occasionally. Which means I never run out of shots unless the world itself disappears."

Jeda whistled low. 

“You should be proud of being able to carry that thing. Blessed weapons do not respond to everyone. They are very temperamental." 

Jeda looked back at the blade, his grin softening. “Huh. Guess the old man was wrong, then.”

Sukira smirked faintly. “Wouldn’t be the first time a father underestimated a son.”

Jeda tilted his head, studying her. “Funny, you just reminded me of an old story my father used to tell about a vampire who saved his ass once. My mother talked about her as the family’s savior. Young, quick as a shadow. He never knew her name. I bet it was you.”

“Could be. I’ve lost count of the idiots I’ve pulled out of trouble.

” 

Jeda laughed, shouldering his sword. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

Of course I remember your silly father, he was just like you, and your mom was pregnant at that time. She was sweet. I wonder if they are still alive. 

For a moment, the air between them wasn’t sharp or defensive. It was easy, almost warm.

Jeda noticed she was lost in her thoughts, and tried caressing her shoulder, not in the flirty way he always approached her, he just wanted to feel closer. 

Then Sukira stood, “Don’t get sentimental. It doesn’t suit you.”

Jeda looked at the floor and laughed in silence as she went away. 

♥︎

September 18th, 15.001

Ravelyn’s Village — Ravelyn’s Alley, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

It was mid-September already, and the convoy crept down the final slope of the rocky road and into the shadow. Here, the trees grew taller, older, their trunks scarred with runes that pulsed in the dusk. Mist pooled low, curling like smoke across the cobblestones, carrying with it a sharp tang of ash and something thicker, like something left too long in the air.

The van came to a halt near the village edge. 

Risha pressed both hands to the window. “It smells strange.”

“That’s how dark magic smells,” Eloise said softly from the seat beside him. “Just… the raw stuff. Like someone left the earth bleeding, and the blood never dried.”

Elon opened the door of the parked car, his coat brushing the mist. He glanced back at Eloise, his voice even. “You are making it sound like dark magic is evil, and it’s not.”

Risha scrambled after him, eyes wide. “Then what is it?”

Elon crouched a little, so he was closer to the boy’s height, his tone turning into that patient cadence Risha had come to know. “Think of the type of magics as rivers. Some rivers run on the surface—bright, clean, easy to drink from. That’s where most magic comes from: Blessing’s energy converted to white magic, elemental power itself, or like the kind of wards you saw in the Alps. Simple currents.”

He traced a line in the dirt with one finger. “Dark magic is a river too, but it runs deeper, almost like an underground river. It's harder to reach, and stronger when you do. It's current carries and takes from heavier things, summonings, demons, blood, spirits of the forgotten.” He paused to check if the kid was still paying attention. “It’s not evil, Risha. It’s just closer to what most people fear because they don’t know how to manage it.”

Risha frowned. “But if it’s that strong… why don’t we all use it?”

“Because most people drink from it without learning how,” Elon said simply, trying to continue the river metaphor he started. “They dip their hands, and the current drags them under. They end up used by it, instead of using it themselves.” He tapped Risha’s chest lightly. “The difference is not in the magic. The difference is in the discipline.”

Risha tilted his head, chewing on the words. “…So it’s like fire. You can cook with it. Or burn yourself.”

For the Blessings' sake, when will we stop with the fire fixation? A faint smile tugged at Elon’s mouth. “Yes. Exactly.”

Behind them, Sukira’s eyes cut sharp through the mist. “Let’s continue the lesson inside”. She grabbed Risha’s hand, the place was indeed vibrating with dark magic traces all over. 

But Risha stayed thoughtful as they started walking toward the square, his gaze darting to the runes carved into the doors.

The first houses appeared between the trees. Low stone structures, built close together, their walls veined with carvings that glowed faint crimson instead of the neat blue wards of the Alps. No polished glass, no symmetrical sigils, these runes were jagged, alive, whispering faintly in the mist.

Compared to Velmore’s chaos and neon, this Alley’s villa felt subdued, but not calm. Its silence was the kind that bites back. Children darted through the streets, their eyes glowing red, streaks of ash smeared across their cheeks like ritual paint. Vendors muttered from doorways, offering charms braided with animal bones, jars of thick ink, powders black as coal. No one shouted prices here. No one smiled.

“They’re staring at us.” Eloise pointed out. 

She wasn’t wrong. Every villager who paused to look carried the same expression, curiosity edged with suspicion, as though they could smell the foreignness from miles away. Their gazes lingered longer on Risha, and Dominique instinctively reached for the kid’s free hand. The two vampires dragged him along with looks that dared anyone to even think about coming close.

Jeda whistled low, though he kept his grin tucked half behind his teeth. 

Elon walked more slowly, careful. His gaze flicked to every shadowed corner, every old symbol painted with blood into the wood of a doorframe. 

As they passed the central square, a temple came into view. It rose above the clustered houses like a broken tooth of obsidian, jagged spires climbing into the mist. The stone was dark, almost charred, its surface etched with layer upon layer of runes that glowed like embers. Around its gates, candles burned in melted heaps, offerings of ash, dried flowers and blood left on low altars.

Eloise's breath caught. “That’s… where Revelyn rests?”

“Yes. Don’t stare.” Sami replied and pushed her gently to keep moving. “The tavern and the inn are right on the next block.” 

The air itself seemed to tighten as they approached, heavy with centuries of prayers whispered to something long dead but not forgotten.

The inn was squat and low-roofed, wedged between two crooked houses. Its façade was engraved with the same jagged runes as the rest of the village, but faded, as if burned half-dead long ago. Inside, the hall was dim, lit only by oil lamps that smoked against the ceiling. The air smelled of ash and sour wine, the floors groaning beneath their boots.There wasn’t a trace of technology anywhere in the village. Nothing.

The innkeeper—a gaunt vampire with pale red eyes like half-buried coals—barely spoke. He handed over two brass keys, his long nails tapping against the counter, his long nails tapping against the wood. The tattoos covering his wrinkled skin looked older than the village itself. For a vampire — an eternal creature that aged at a third to a fifth of a human’s pace — to look like that meant his age had probably long since left simple double digits behind.

Sukira gave a curt nod and led the way. The rooms were narrow, walls etched with faint crimson sigils. Not protective wards, Eloise noticed with unease. These were binding runes, meant to keep things in.

“Charming,” Dominique muttered as she tossed her pack onto the cot.

“We’ll survive one night,” Sukira said flatly. “Come on. We eat, then rest. No wandering.”

“And not staring”, Sami added while particularly looking at Eloise’s curious gaze. 

The tavern was louder than the rest of the village, but not warmer. Shadows spilled into the corners, thick with the scent of blood, wine, and black tobacco; they seemed to have a life of their own. The villagers who owned those silhouettes filled the long tables, their voices low, their eyes flicking to the newcomers every few seconds. No one laughed. No music played. Only the constant scrape of tankards against wood and the crackle of a fire burning far too black in the hearth.

They found space at a table near the wall. A barmaid set down a jug of wine and a loaf of dark bread without being asked, her gaze lingering too long on Risha before she turned away.

Jeda leaned back, forcing a grin. “Homey.”

“Don’t speak too loud,” Sami warned, settling beside him. “You know what, Jeda? Don’t speak at all while we are here.” 

Jeda laughed for himself and agreed with Sami’s command. This was no place to use his big mouth. 

Risha pressed close to Elon, his wide eyes darting to the villagers’ stares. “Why are they looking at us like that?”

“Because we don’t belong,” Elon said calmly, pouring the boy a cup of water. “And because you shine too brightly." He was talking about his magic trace. I should have put a pressing sigil on him, but doing it now will make it look even more suspicious.  

Conversation faltered after that. The tension pressed heavy, thick as the mist outside. The wine was sour, the bread tasted dirty. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like the rest of the world had fallen away—until the air shifted.

A shadow slipped into the seat beside Sukira as though it had always been there. A hand, black and elegant, lifted her untouched glass. Vlad sipped the wine slowly, lips curling as if testing its taste.

The tavern froze. Literally. Every sound, every breath, every villager mid-motion stilled as stone. Only five at the table still moved—Sukira, stiff as steel with Vlad at her side. Elon, sitting directly across, his blue eyes narrowing. Risha pressed tight to Elon’s sleeve, trembling but not trapped. And Sami, who cursed under her breath, her knuckles whitening on her glass.

Vlad set the wine down, his crimson gaze sliding across them with slow amusement. “I see the Alley hasn’t lost its charm.” His smile sharpened. “But look at this! What an odd little gathering.”

The silence was suffocating. All around them, villagers sat suspended mid-motion: a man frozen with his mug halfway to his lips, a child caught mid-talk with ash still smeared on her cheek, the fire itself halted with sparks hanging in the air like shards of glass. Only their table still breathed.

Risha clutched Elon’s sleeve tighter. “What… what happened?”

“Time pause,” Elon murmured, eyes locked on Vlad. His voice carried a razor edge, though calm. “Only those with very high resistance to dark magic remain untouched.”

Sami scoffed, though her hand hadn’t left the dagger on her thigh, the twin to Sukira’s one. “Lucky us.”

The last time they met Vlad, was in April, in the middle of the wilderness, firelight throwing him in and out of shadow. He had walked out of the night like he owned it, taunting Sukira with a kiss and branding Elon like prey before vanishing in smoke. That memory was still raw in all of them, especially in Sukira, who had sat awake beside Elon’s unconscious body for hours after, her cold hands pressed against his chest, after removing a dark magic trace Vlad implanted in his body. 

And now, he was here again. Different stage, same play. The same crimson eyes, the same smile that curved like a blade, the same voice wrapping mockery and desire into every syllable.

Sukira hadn’t moved since Vlad appeared. She sat rigid, her gaze fixed on the wine glass he’d just touched. “You won’t get the kid. Leave.”

Vlad turned his head toward her slowly, the smile never leaving his lips. “Let’s have a drink first, my love.” His eyes lingered on her for a beat longer than comfort allowed.

Risha swallowed hard, voice small but brave, looking at the rest of the group, frozen. “Are they okay?”

Vlad’s gaze shifted to him, and for a heartbeat, the air seemed to constrict, like the boy’s question itself had offended the dark. Then—unexpectedly—his expression softened, a predator’s patience playing at gentleness. “They will be okay if you cooperate, little wolf, tiny pup, small kid? Ugh, I don’t remember what they usually call you.”

Elon’s hand twitched, shielding Risha closer. “Don’t speak to him.”

But Vlad ignored the command. His focus drifted back to Sukira, and he leaned closer, voice lowering like a secret meant only for her. “Do they know yet? About you? About what your blood really calls?”

Sukira’s eyes flickered, but her face stayed stone. “That’s enough. I told you to leave.”

Sami slammed her glass down, voice sharp. “Spit it out, Vlad. You never drop by just to chat. What’s the game this time?”

“Oh, Sami! Long time no see. I’m glad you’re still by Sukira’s side. Not an easy task, I must say. You must be one of the strong ones.” He stopped and took a sip of wine, then continued, “It seems that your friends over here forgot to fill you in. I have a debt to pay to a stupid Calamity, and I need to take this Risha—well, all the Rishas—from the world of the living.”

Vlad’s smile lingered, but the truth behind his words needed no embellishment. His mission was simple and merciless: to erase every bearer of the name Risha from this world. It wasn’t personal. It wasn’t even chosen. He had lost a wager to one of the Greater Calamities, and this was the price—an endless hunt, a list written in blood that would not end until every name was crossed out.

It wasn’t the first time Vlad had come for him. Months before, in the elven village of Verellen, Vlad had descended with shadows and demons. Terrified, cornered, Risha had unleashed magic so violent it erased the village in a heartbeat. Every soul, family, neighbor, friend, was consumed in the blast. Every soul except his own. He had stood alone in the ashes, a child survivor with enough strength to even push Vlad back. 

“Still so cold, Sukira. But I remember when you weren’t. Why don’t we share a story or two with this lover of yours?” He pointed at Elon. 

“Shut up.” Her voice came out tight. There were many things from her past she wanted to hide—keep not only secret from them, but erase completely. Sukira didn’t even look at Vlad, her gaze fixed on the frozen tavern around her, on anywhere but his disgusting red eyes.

“Ah, still pretending.” He chuckled softly, savoring her defiance. “They don’t know you at all and no one knows you better than I do.” He stopped and grabbed her hand in his. 

“If you come with me, I’ll leave the kid behind. What do you say?”

What does he want from me? Either way, better me than the kid. “Fine.” She stood up without thinking; not even a second had passed after Vlad finished his sentence. If there was a way to pull Vlad away from Risha without fighting him, she was going to take it.

“I won’t allow that.” Elon’s patience snapped. 

With a single flicker of will, the air warped. In an instant, both he and Vlad vanished from the table, the space they left behind collapsing with a hiss of displaced energy.

Sukira shot to her feet, ready to follow, void already coiling at her boots—

—but Sami caught her wrist. Her grip was firm, steady. “No. You guard the boy.”

Sukira’s head whipped toward her, eyes narrowing. “Let me go, you know I can’t void if you are grabbing me.”

“Think, Suki,” Sami pressed, her voice low but unyielding. “Elon can take him. You know he can. But if, for some reason, he falls, and that bastard comes to take the kid, I know I can’t protect Risha from Vlad and his dirty tricks.” She smiled at Risha. “You stay. I’ll go see if I can support Elon somehow.”

For a heartbeat, silence pressed between them. Sukira’s face was more expressive than usual; she forced herself to stay. Her gaze flicked once to Risha, pale and trembling at the table. Finally, she gave the faintest nod.

Sami smirked thinly, already leaving. “Good girl.” Then she slipped through the door, vanishing into the mist.

♥︎

The square was silent, moonlight painting the cobblestones silver. Elon and Vlad stood opposite one another, a few paces apart.

“You really want to play this game?” Vlad’s grin cut sharp. “I thought scholars preferred books to battles.”

Elon’s eyes glowed with anger. “I won’t let you have her or the kid.”

Vlad laughed, low and rich. “I’m too old for this.”

The fight began in a heartbeat.

Vlad’s hand flicked, and shadows poured from the stones, claws stretching toward Elon’s throat. Elon raised a palm and the air around him fractured, pure magic, unshaped, a force that ripped the shadows apart like paper.

“Oh, right. You are a fucking sorcerer.” Vlad commented, pointing out the obvious. 

Sparks scattered across the square, crimson against azure.

Vlad’s grin widened. He conjured black chains from the ground, jagged links snapping toward Elon. But Elon dissolved, reappearing a stride to the side. Sorcerers didn’t chant, didn’t gesture—they simply channeled the magic. His counterstrike came as a ripple in the air, a pulse of force that cracked the stone beneath Vlad’s feet.

Vlad staggered, surprised, then hissed. “This is actually refreshing.” He snapped his fingers, and a dozen red bleeding runes burned into existence around him, each one pulsing with small Calamities. They fired like arrows, jagged bolts of blood-light.

Elon raised both hands and twisted. The runes bent, their trajectories folding inward, collapsing back toward Vlad. The vampire snarled, too slow to dodge them all—three slammed into his side, burning holes through his coat.

For the first time, his grin faltered. “You… injured me?”

Elon’s gaze sharpened. “I’m not going to stop now.”

Vlad’s smile returned, thinner, edged with anger. 

He clapped his hands together. Elon’s ears rang as the ground split into dozens of blackened mouths, shrieking. He nearly lost balance but steadied himself with a surge of telepathic magic, lifting his body off the ground as if thought itself was enough to anchor him.

Vlad followed, but differently—his ascent was unnatural, like wings without feathers, a glide born of something closer to a demon than a vampire. He rose through the mist with predatory ease, shadows trailing after him like a cloak.

The village square fell away beneath them. Roofs, chimneys, and spires shrank into jagged silhouettes while the mist opened like a stage, moonlight cutting them into sharp lines of silver and red.

“Shit. I can’t help you like this, prince,” Sami said to herself as she finally reached them, watching them ‘leave’, above the roofs of the buildings. 

Elon rose with flawless stillness, his body lifted by sheer thought. No wings, no runes, no rituals, just a sorcerer’s command of the unseen. His figure seemed almost sculpted from light, his aura flickering blue, white, and violet as layers of different magics braided together.

Vlad ascended opposite him, but not with grace—rather with hunger. His rise was crooked, born of black magic wrapping around him like tendrils. It wasn’t levitation so much as corruption carrying him upward. His crimson aura pulsed with each heartbeat, thick and smoky, as if the air recoiled from him.

They collided midair.

Elon struck first: a spear of lightning forged from pure energy magic, hurled so fast the clouds flashed white. Vlad batted it aside with a clawed hand, but his arm smoked where it touched him. He retaliated with chains of shadow, snapping like whips in every direction.

Elon’s telekinesis magic bent them into spirals, snapping them like dry branches. At the same time, he pulled the very shingles off rooftops, spinning them into a storm of steel-tipped blades that sliced toward Vlad.

The vampire twisted, his form flickering in and out of shadow. Half the blades passed through smoke; the others tore open his coat, drawing black blood across his ribs.

“You fight like a child building storms out of toys,” Vlad taunted, his voice reverberating unnaturally across the rooftops. “All power, no cruelty. You won’t get to kill me like this.”

Elon didn’t reply. He opened his palm, and a sphere of raw force expanded outward, pushing Vlad back as if the world itself wanted him gone. The tower wall cracked under the blast.

Snarling, Vlad countered with a surge of black wards, spinning into runes that blazed red. Each rune spat bolts of corrupted flame—flame that shrieked, alive, screaming as it burned. Elon bent the fire sideways with a twist of telepathy, redirecting it skyward until it vanished in the mist.

The two closed again. Vlad slashed at his mind, threads of black thought trying to twist Elon’s vision, forcing him to see dozens of false strikes at once. For a moment, Elon staggered midair, his body jolting in three directions at once. But he clenched his jaw and broke the illusion apart, shards of falsehood dissolving into smoke.

Then he struck back—drawing on elemental power. Fire roared from his hands, not orange but white-hot, mixed with lightning, wrapped in wind. For a heartbeat, he was a comet against the night.

It hit Vlad full on. The vampire spun back, cloak aflame, the side of his jaw seared and blackened. For the first time, he truly hissed in pain.

“You’re stronger than the last sorcerer I fought…” he spat, his grin baring bloodied teeth. Then he laughed, bitter and sharp. “And do you know what I got from that duel?” His eyes gleamed, turning deliberately toward the square where Sukira still guarded Risha. “A girlfriend.”

The words tore into Elon sharper than claws. His aura pulsed, uncontrolled for a second, and the air around them cracked with pressure.

He unleashed everything—magic bending the mist, energy surging in storms, flame spiraling in a vortex. For a heartbeat, Vlad was drowned in it, struck again and again, until he slammed into a stone spire with bone-shattering force.

The wounds were real. His coat was scorched, his skin cut, dark blood kept dripping from his mouth. And when Elon struck again, pinning him against a tower wall with a force so sharp the stone cracked, Vlad finally stopped smiling.

The vampire slid down the wall like a parasite. His grin was there, but thinner, edged with strain. “You… That really hurt.” Vlad’s voice rasped, amused but strained. “Let me return the favor.”

Elon descended to the floor and leaned closer, ready to finish it. It was not something out of his personality, but this vampire, this monster, would keep coming for the only two things he cared about unless he finished him right now. 

But Vlad was older. And crueler.

Sami shot, aiming for his head. But the bullet vanished to dust just before reaching Vlad’s temple.

“ELON, RUN.” She shouted with all of her lungs. Years of experience told her that this was not Vlad’s end.  

But the vampire’s hand clamped onto Elon’s neck, faster than sound. His crimson eyes locked with blue.

Vision bled into Elon. Not his own choice, he was being forced to look at something he wasn’t supposed to.

Elon’s gift had always been a controlled power he dominated with time. He could look into memories, pierce lies, search the past and present of a soul with precision. Usually, it was his decision—what to see, where to look, how deep to dive. But Vlad was no ordinary mind. He was closer to a demon than a mortal, and he twisted the link, dragging Elon into sights he did not choose.

Elon’s body stiffened, but his mind was no longer his own. Vlad’s eyes were windows, dragging him into a place between memory and nightmare.

The first flash hit him. Snow falling in torrents, and a small portion of the field painted red. Sukira, barely recognizable, younger, no tattoos in sight, her arms trembling, stood beside a tall, slim man. They fought back-to-back, her movements clumsy and inexperienced but desperate, his magic slicing through her attempts to shock him.

Then, in an instant, it shifted. 

Sukira knelt in the snow, no more than fifteen in human years, her red eyes wide and brimming. Blood drenched her pale hands. The sorcerer she was fighting, lying still on her lap, lifeless. She sobbed without breath, without control, her body rocking forward as if the grief itself would break her.

Vlad appeared then, striding through the snowstorm. He crouched before her, his hand brushing blood from her cheek. She flinched, shouting and crying, “Who are you? What am I doing here? Who is this person? I don’t remember... I don’t remember anything.” The words carried such desperation impossible to describe. 

He smiled. “Forget the past. All of that is useless. Look to the future, with me.”

The vision cracked, bled into more fragments.

Snaps of images flashing in Elon’s eyes, like a trailer of a movie he was not invited to participate in. Sukira laughing—openly, freely—her face soft with joy Elon had never seen. Sukira leaning against Vlad’s shoulder, eyes bright, a warmth that was alien to the woman he knew. Sukira playing, mocking, being happy. Entirely someone else.

The last flash cut deeper. Her chest bared, pale skin marked by a single crimson scar above her heart—Vlad’s bite. His personal tattoo: a black cross made of smoke. The one place she never showed.

Blood dripped from Vlad’s mouth as he held Elon suspended by the throat, crimson eyes burning with cruel delight. Then, without warning, he released him. Elon crashed to the stones, choking, knees scraping against the cobblestones.

The image flipped: minutes ago Elon had been standing in front of a Vlad sprawled on the floor against a wall dripping with his own thick blood. Now the vampire had regained his strength, and Elon was the one trembling on the ground.

“History always repeats itself,” Vlad purred, his form flickering at the edges. “I know, I’ve lived many, many lives. And Sukira will always return to me. She carries my mark. It’s a matter of blood, sorcerer. You wouldn’t understand.”

Vlad was not mortal enough to be trusted. He was a liar by nature, a trickster who bent Calamities and shadows for amusement. What he showed could be true, or it could be smoke given shape. But Elon did not doubt. He saw, and he believed, as never, not once, in his life had his vision power failed him. 

Then he was gone. Just like that. His shadow unraveled into mist, his presence dissolved, and the weight on the world snapped away.

The tavern doors creaked. Time resumed. Voices, the scrape of mugs—all exactly where they had left off, none of the villagers aware that reality itself had just been bent.

Elon stayed offbeat. He remained on his knees, gasping, his hands pressed against the ground. His almost-white hair hung forward, and his eyes were open but empty, fixed on the floor.

“What did that asshole do to you, Elon?” Sami muttered under her breath. She was close, but not close enough for Elon to listen to her. She tried approaching, but he staggered upright and walked away, shoulders rigid, disappearing into the woods beyond the village.

Sami cursed softly and dropped onto the temple steps, leaning back on her elbows, staring at the moon as if it would explain anything.

Inside the tavern, the freeze ended in a blink. Dominique blinked too, confused at the bread still in her hand. Eloise picked up mid-sentence without realizing she’d lost minutes. Jeda shook his head, groggy, muttering, “The hell—?”

They all noticed something had happened, but they couldn't understand what. 

Risha shot upright, eyes wide, face pale. He bolted toward Sukira, clutching her sleeve. “THEY ARE BACK! 

“Kid, sit down and keep your voice low.” Sukira put him down, staring at the door, waiting for Elon to enter at any time. 

“What?” Dominique barked, spinning in her chair.

“Okay, okay. SHhh. Come closer, I’ll explain.” Risha said while making the adults around him follow his words as a ruler. “It was Vlad! He was here! He froze everything and tried to take me, and Elon fought him outside and—” His words tumbled over each other in a frantic torrent, too fast to follow.

Eloise paled. “Vlad? Here?”

Jeda froze, then slammed a fist against the table. Everyone’s reactions were drawing attention. “And I was sitting here like a damn statue?!” His grin was gone, replaced with a rare flash of anger. “If I’d been awake, I—”

“I would have killed him”, Dominique completed his sentence. 

“But you weren’t here”. Sukira cut them off coldly. Her voice carried weight, and everyone went quiet under it. “Stay here, Risha. With them. Eloise, Dominique, Jeda—you don’t leave him alone. Not for a heartbeat.”

Risha shook his head, stubborn. “No, I’m coming with—”

But Sukira was already gone, using her void and leaving a black and red dust behind. 

She found Sami waiting, still seated on the stairs, rifle standing next to her. The other woman didn’t look at her, only muttered, “Don’t worry, he’s alive–”

“I know, I can sense him”, Sukira interrupted her with a bitter tone. 

“... As I was saying.” Sami gave her a cold look, but continued, “He walked off. Straight into the woods. Whatever Vlad did to him, it wasn’t pretty.”

Before Sukira could start moving in the direction Sami pointed, small footsteps thundered behind her.

“Risha–” she barked, spinning.

The boy darted past, Dominique and Eloise rushing after him, Jeda cursing a step behind them.

“The pup slipped away and froze the damn door behind so we couldn’t follow him.” Jeda groaned with a half smile on his face. “Good one. I had to take the door down.” 

“I can’t wait for him to be in his teenage years”, Sami laughed. 

Risha stopped a few meters away from everyone, gathered at the stairs where Sami was before, recovering from the sprint. 

“Risha, stop right there or I’ll get angry”, Sukira said with a calm voice. 

“But Elon… He’s suffering. I can feel it.” Risha replied, trembling and looking at the end of the village’s street.  

Eloise shook her head. “You can sense all of that from here?”

Risha nodded. “His magic—it’s everywhere… Like fire!!”

And then he ran. The others broke through and followed.

They found him just beyond the last row of houses, a silhouette framed in fire indeed. Elon stood alone, his body rigid, his aura erupting into a storm of controlled flame, floating a few meters away from the floor. The air crackled and hissed, heat bending the mist, the trees trembling under the sheer pressure. It was a controlled firestorm.

Everyone froze at the sight.

Dominique was the first to move. “He’s going to burn down the whole damn village if we don’t stop him.”

“He’s not out of control,” Sukira said, her tone calm but sharp. She was trying to understand what was happening. “Look closer. He’s choosing not to release it.”

“That’s worse!” Eloise snapped, clutching Risha’s shoulder. “Holding that much inside—he’ll tear himself apart.”

Risha trembled, eyes wide. “He’s sad and angry… We need to help him.”

Dominique shot him a look. “How can you possibly know that, brat?”

“Because I can feel it,” Risha said again, louder, desperate. He didn't have the words to explain it better, and anxiety was starting to grow in his chest. 

Jeda whistled, caressing Risha’s hair, bringing him closer, understanding that the kid was feeling restless. “Empath boy says dad’s heartbroken. Anyone want to guess why?” he said in a mocking way while rolling his eyes at Sukira. 

“Shut up,” Sami hissed.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want answers,” Jeda fired back, half-grinning but eyes uneasy.

“Stop it.” Sukira’s voice cut through, but her gaze stayed locked on Elon, calculating, as if measuring the exact second she’d need to move if the fire slipped.

Dominique crossed her arms, fists clenching. “So what’s the plan? Knock him out? Hug him until he stops?”

Eloise’s eyes flashed. “He doesn’t need violence, he needs someone to reach him—”

“Reach him?” Jeda scoffed. “The guy’s in the middle of a firestorm. Be my guest, cutie.”

Risha tugged at Eloise’s sleeve. “I’ll go.”

“No,” Sukira and Eloise barked at the same time.

“Kid’s braver than the rest of us,” Jeda muttered under his breath while gripping the kid hard to his body. He wasn’t going to let Risha go. He gave a ‘I got him, don’t worry’ look to the rest. 

“He’s reckless,” Sukira snapped.

“Look who’s talking.” Dominique barked while looking at the floating fire.

“Could you please stop—” Eloise started, but stopped herself, biting down on her lip. Her gaze swung back to Elon, softer.

The storm flared higher, sparks raining against the trees, almost like Elon was listening to their conversation and wanting to go further away. Everyone tensed.

Sami, who had been leaning against a post, finally stood, hands on her hips. “You’re all overthinking it.” She tilted her head, studying Elon’s silhouette, her lips twitching with the faintest smirk. “I don’t know why, but it’s got the vibe he’s just having a tantrum. A big, magic tantrum.”

While everyone exchanged opinions, Elon’s firestorm kept going higher, the flames spiraling like a living crown. Heat rippled outward in waves, bending the trees until branches groaned.

Sukira slipped into her void and reappeared at Jeda’s side, so close her whisper barely carried. “Keep Risha secured.”

Jeda’s arm tightened around the boy. “I’ll glue him to my ribs if I have to.”

Sukira vanished again, mist curling, and emerged at Eloise’s shoulder. “I need fire protection. Now.”

Eloise blinked at her in panic, but was already working on her command. “That won’t last long—”

Hands shaking, Eloise drew a swift rune against Sukira’s chest. The mark glowed pale blue before sinking into her skin. “Go.”

Sukira didn’t waste another second. She vanished using her void one more time, reappearing high above, then dove straight into the storm like she was jumping into a pool on a summer day. 

The world turned to fire around her; gravity was nonexistent inside the magic sphere.

The flames pressed in from all sides, licking at the edges of Eloise’s spell. It hissed and warped, the protection already weakening. But the storm carried her too, buoying her body as if she floated through the air. She forced herself forward, “swimming” against the heat, until she found him—Elon, suspended, his hair wild in the currents, his eyes lost in a trance.

She reached him, brushing strands of his golden hair from his face. Her voice was steady, louder than the crackle around them.

“Please, stop.”

No reaction. His eyes didn’t even flicker.

Outside, the group erupted again.

Dominique snapped her head up. “She went in? She actually went in??”

Eloise clenched her fists. “I told her the spell wouldn’t last long!”

“I’ll save them both!” Risha cried, panic cracking his voice. He thrashed in Jeda’s grip, arms and legs kicking. “Let me gOOooOO.” 

Jeda muttered, voice raw, pulling the boy tighter against his legs. “Stop fighting me, pup. You don’t get it—if she doesn’t make it out, none of us will.”

“That idiot,” Sami said, shading her eyes against the blaze. 

Back inside the storm, Sukira grabbed Elon’s face with both hands, her fingers already blistering as the protection rune failed. She leaned closer. 

“You’re killing me, Elon. I’m okay with that. But the kid’s waiting for you. Stop now.” Her voice was sweet but clear, cutting through the trance. 

For a heartbeat–nothing, but as his eyes returned, hers closed. The trance cracked, and her cold hands pressing his cheeks felt on their own weight.

The storm broke apart like a warm wind, flames vanishing in an instant, like nothing happened. Silence crashed down, broken only by their breathing.

They hovered there in the air for a moment, the magic still holding them aloft. Elon caught her against his chest before she fell. Sukira went limp, her burns glowing red. They drifted downward, the magic settling like ash. Elon touched ground gently, Sukira still fainted in his arms.

Risha jolted—electric sparks flaring from his skin, shocking Jeda’s hands until he yelped. The boy bolted free, running to them, tears streaking his face. “Is she dead???!”

Elon looked at the kid, still holding her, posing her gently on his lap. His voice was calm, controlled. “No. She’s just heavily injured. She burned herself to reach me.”

Risha’s lip quivered while caressing Sukira’s short hair, tears dropping from his eyes against his will. “...why did you do that?”

Elon exhaled. “I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to heal her.”

“I want to help”, Risha said with confidence, wiping his face. Elon nodded. 

Together, their palms glowed—Elon’s steady blue, Risha’s raw, trembling green light. They pressed against Sukira’s scorched skin, weaving their power into her wounds until the burns softened, then closed, leaving no scars behind.

She didn’t wake.

“WHY WON’T SHE WAKE UP?!” Risha cried, clinging to her, with a very loud, panicking voice.

“That’s it, kid.” Jeda hoisted Risha under one arm like a sack of potatoes. He looked straight at Elon, grin crooked but eyes steady. “This counts like your turn now, Sunshine. Don’t screw it up.”

Sami lingered a beat longer, her voice steady, almost maternal. “Let’s give them some space”. 

Dominique hesitated, Eloise lingered, but neither argued. One by one, they turned back toward the tavern, the night air swallowing their voices, leaving Elon and Sukira alone.

The night swallowed the others as they made their way back to the tavern. Elon waited until their voices were gone, then closed his eyes.

A breath. A ripple. The world bent.

In an instant, he and Sukira were gone from the forest’s edge—reappearing in the still, dark quiet of one of their rooms above the tavern. The air smelled of wood smoke and old stone.

He laid her gently on the bed, her skin pale against the black sheets, her breath steady but shallow. For a long moment, he just stood there, staring down at her. Then he sank beside her, lying on his side, close enough that her coldness seeped through the air between them.

His mind wouldn’t still. Vlad’s smile. The memories he had been forced to see. Sukira’s laughing with someone else. Her chest, marked with something more powerful than time. And the firestorm, the way he couldn’t control his pity feelings.

His hand hovered uncertainly, then pressed lightly against her chest, just above her heart, through the fabric of her turtleneck. Searching.

Her lips curved faintly, her eyes still closed. “Checking if I have a heart?”

Elon’s breath hitched for a second, then he joked, “Good morning.”

Silence. Heavy, tense.

Finally, she spoke. “Would you like to explain to me what that was out there?” She didn’t move Elon’s hand from her chest; it was warm and, for some strange reason, it felt right.

“Would you like to explain what I saw?” he shot back almost instantly.

Sukira exhaled. “So it really was a tantrum.”

“It was. I’m terribly sorry.” 

“None of what you saw was probably true.”

“My vision gift does not work like that. I can only see the truth.” He explained. “I see the past, things that happened before. No one can create things that didn’t happen and implant those as memories.” 

“You are so naive. He toyed with you like he does with everyone.”

“Explain to me what I saw, then”. 

Finally, her eyes opened all the way, a dim crimson shining in the dark as she looked straight at him and pushed his hand off her body. “Why? So you can compare my version with the story Vlad wrote for you? Believe whatever you want to believe.”

“I saw enough.” His voice was low, harsh. “Enough to know he’s part of you. Enough to know you once—” He stopped himself, breath sharp. “You were happy with him.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Whatever he showed you, truth or not, is his version of the story, not mine. And if you’re going to chain me to it, then you’re no better than he is.”

His hand trembled slightly and came to rest on her chest again. “Then tell me…”

She caught his wrist, finally turning her eyes to him, cold but steady. “No. I just dragged you back from your own fire. I won’t drag myself through his.”

Elon let out a slow breath. “You’re being very difficult to handle right now.”

Her lips twitched faintly, the shadow of a smirk, but she didn’t say anything.

He sat up, turning his back to her. For a long moment, he just stared at the floor, jaw tight, body tense. Then he shifted, as if to rise.

Her hand caught the hem of his shirt. “Please stay.”

He froze. When he turned, she still hadn’t moved, her eyes closed again. Her voice was weak, but with a hint of command. “Sleep beside me.”

“First I want–”

“Quiet,” she said, “You can stay, but only if you remain quiet.” 

He hesitated, then lowered himself back onto the bed, lying beside her, stiff and uncertain.

She cut the gap. She curled against his chest, her cold body fitting into his warmth.

Elon’s mouth opened one more time, “I want to ask—”

“Quiet.”

He clenched his jaw, swallowed, then tried again. “You can’t just—”

“Quiet.” Her voice sharpened, but she didn’t open her eyes.

His breath caught, but he pushed once more, softer this time. “At least tell me if—”

Her fingers tightened in his shirt, anchoring him. “Quiet, Elon.”

He exhaled hard, frustration simmering under his skin. But he stopped. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer like she might vanish if he let go. He held her as if he could convince her that there, beside him, she could let go of the ghosts that hunted her.

The fire had burned out, but the heat lingered between them as the night fell into silence.

♥︎