Chapter 18 / Idiot

September 22nd, 15.001

Ravelyn’s Alley Borderlands, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The road thinned into scrub and stone as the group neared the border. Ravelyn’s Alley, with its crooked trees and whispering marsh air, had already begun to fade behind them. Ahead stretched the beginnings of the Ashveil Desert: wide, dry winds carrying grains of pale dust, the horizon blurred by the shimmer of heat even in late afternoon. The last patches of grass grew sparse, their green dulled to a tired yellow.

They stopped at the edge of a shallow ravine where jagged rocks offered a natural break against the wind. Sami directed the camp’s arrangement—packs dropped, fire pit outlined, tents raised with quick, practiced hands. Soon, a faint orange glow flickered in the dusk, the smell of dried meat and herbs drifting into the cooling air.

It was around the fire that the teasing began.

“I would have bet you weren’t the jealous type,” Jeda said, smirking at Elon as he bit into a strip of bread. “You should have seen your face, Sunshine. Epic.” 

Dominique leaned in, her good eye glinting. “Honestly, I thought you’d roast us all. You’re lucky Vlad didn’t see the mess of it—he would’ve laughed himself to death.”

Jeda chuckled, leaning back. “Nah, he nearly roasted her to death instead.” Pointing out to Sukira. 

The remark hit too hard, and Sami’s voice cut sharply through the smoke. “I think that’s enough.”

Risha, ever restless, chimed in before the silence could settle. He leaned over his knees, eyes wide with indignation. “You always tell me I can’t use fire—but you did it! That’s not fair! Teach me!”

The voices overlapped—mockery, laughter, questions tossed like sparks into the night. Elon sat apart, slicing dried fruit into neat, controlled strips, his face unreadable. Only the twitch of his jaw betrayed the words he swallowed.

Sukira’s voice silenced them all. Calm, even, but carrying an edge that cut through the noise: “Risha. Enough games. You need to learn to defend yourself for real now.”

The boy’s eyes lit up instantly, his grin spreading wide. “FINALLY! Yes! Okay, what do I do?”

“Stand up.” She commanded. 

He sprang to his feet, chest puffed out. Sukira rose too, rolling her shoulders like she was shaking off dust. She pointed to the ground. “Start with this. Hold yourself steady.” She dropped into a perfect plank, body straight as an iron bar. “Like this. As long as you can.”

Risha’s face scrunched. “That’s not training—that’s boring! That’s like when you made me run. I don’t want this.” He stomped his foot, bristling. “I want to fight!”

Something sharp flickered across Sukira’s face—not quite anger, but almost. She stood, eyes narrowing slightly. “You want a fight?”

“YES!”

“Then fight me.”

The words made everyone stir. Dominique’s brow furrowed, and Eloise shook her head nervously.

Sami hissed in disbelief. “Sukira, he’s a child.”

Jeda barked a laugh, half-nervous, half-entertained. “Oh, this I want to see.”

Risha was already bouncing on his toes, fists raised with excitement. Sukira ignored the protests, stepping into the circle of firelight as if she hadn’t heard a word. She didn’t prepare a stance—just stood there, grounded, utterly calm.

Risha lunged, clumsy and eager. With a single, precise movement, Sukira hooked her foot behind his ankle and swept him down. He hit the packed earth with a solid thud. She had done the same thing the first time Risha impantently asked to fight, but she did it more gently; this time, she didn’t hold back. 

“Ow!” he yelped, clutching the back of his head.

The camp erupted.“HAHA”, Jeda could only laugh.

“That wasn't necessary!” Dominique snapped, half-rising.

“Risha, are you okay??” Eloise protested, her voice trembling just a bit.

“How that’s teaching—” Sami began, but was cut off.

Elon raised his hand, a sudden gust of wind fanning outward. The fire bent with it, the air stilled. 

“Silence.” His tone carried no room for argument. The camp fell silent. Only his eyes remained locked on Sukira. He knew better than anyone—this wasn’t cruelty. There was a lesson here.

Sukira allowed the space he gave her, then stepped closer to the boy. She knelt beside him, one hand pressing gently to the back of his head. Her expression softened—not kind, not cold, just steady.

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes!” he shouted, indignant tears brimming. “A lot!”

“Good.” Her voice dropped, confident and unyielding. “I want you to never forget that feeling.”

The others murmured, unease rippling through them. “What kind of schooling is this?” Eloise whispered.

Sukira ignored them. She took Risha by the shoulders, steadying him, her gaze locked to his.

“I have two rules, kid. Only two. You’d better listen, and you’d better remember them.”

Risha sniffed, still scowling but listening.

“Rule one: never fight a battle you can’t win. If it’s too much, step back. There’s no shame in waiting until you’re ready. Live to grow stronger, learn, then come back.”

Her eyes didn’t soften. “Rule two: don’t get hit. Not once. Don’t ever let them touch you. That pain you feel? Keep it in your memory and never let it happen again.”

The kid looked at her as she stood and walked away from the camp. Immediately after, he put himself on the floor in plank position and yelled, “Can someone please take the time??”

♥︎

October 2nd 15.001.  

Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The road ended in dust. What stretched ahead was no road at all, only a wide, broken plain of sand. Heat shimmered off the horizon in rippling veils, though the sun was not yet at its peak. Behind them, the green line of Ravelyn’s borderlands was already a memory, swallowed by distance and haze. Before them lay Ashveil — a desert scattered with the bones of ruins, cursed remnants half-swallowed by drifting dunes. It was said that storms here rose from nothing, born from whispers of old magic that refused to die.

The air was dry enough to sting in the throat, every breath leaving a faint taste of salt. They all descended from the vehicles to organize themselves and decide how to continue. 

“Not a welcoming land,” Jeda muttered, scanning the horizon. His hand rested on the hilt of his blade, though there was no enemy to see — only emptiness.

“I would like to talk with the genius who decided the location of La Paz,” Sami pointed out.

The wind began as a low hiss, threading through their cloaks and hair. Then it rose sharply, carrying sand in sharp little stings that pricked the skin. The horizon blurred. A wall of dust thickened, rolling toward them with uncanny speed.

“Sandstorm,” Eloise said. Her voice was a bit tremulous, but she was sure what was coming. 

The next moment, the storm was upon them, a furious torrent of grit and wind that clawed at eyes and lungs. Risha cried out and pressed against Dominique, who wrapped her arms around him. Sami cursed, pulling a scarf over the kid’s face.

Elon stepped forward, hands raised. A shimmer of wavering wind laced the air, spreading into a curved wall that separated the group from the force of the storm. It held, but only barely.

“Don’t overdo it,” Jeda snapped, catching his arm when his knees buckled slightly. His skin was cold, his breath ragged. “Lean on me”. 

“Yes”, he hissed, forcing the air barrier thicker, denser. The wind shrieked around them.

Behind the wall, Risha lifted his hands, lips moving with a half-learned incantation. Power sparked — too raw, too loud. A sudden blast of air burst from his palms, rattling the shield.

“Stop!” Elon barked. His voice cut through the storm.

Risha froze, eyes wide, face streaked with sand and sweat. “I… I was trying to help!”

Sukira crouched, pulling his hands down gently. “Then listen when I tell you this: power without aim is worse than useless.” Her tone was not cruel, but sharp enough that Risha flinched. Still, he nodded.

The storm raged on, but the group huddled close, their world reduced to the shimmer of Elon’s shield, the howling void beyond.

When at last the winds began to ease, Elon sagged, and Jeda’s hand shot out again to steady him. The wind barrier dissolved into glittering shards that evaporated instantly into the sand.

Ashveil had greeted them. And it would not let them pass lightly.

♥︎

The silence after the storm was strange, heavy. Every grain of sand seemed to hum with the memory of the wind. Nobody suggested pressing forward. Dominique spat grit to the side and adjusted her cloak. “We’re camping here,” she decided, her tone leaving little space for argument.

No one did.

They worked in weary silence. 

Eloise drew symbols in the sand with deliberate precision, her fingers barely glowing as she murmured incantations. Elon joined her, hands weaving through the air, laying threads of shimmering energy that joined her glyphs. Slowly, a protective dome shimmered up around the camp, translucent as glass.

Risha hovered close, uncertain. Elon caught him watching and crooked a finger. “Come here.”

The boy shuffled over, wary, as if expecting another scolding. Elon’s gaze was sharp, but his voice was steadier now. “If you try to force magic without understanding it, it will go loose. Especially if you are trying to wield elemental magic. You could have injured someone earlier.”

Risha lowered his eyes. “I said I was sorry.”

“I don’t need your apologies.” Elon pointed at the runes Eloise was finishing. “I need you to keep learning. Watch.”

The boy blinked, surprised, then crouched beside them. Eloise offered him a small smile, brushing dust from her skirt. “We’ll show you how to tie this spell. It's a simple but effective protection spell, nothing can enter nor leave this perimeter.”

For the next while, Risha mimicked their gestures, his brow furrowed in concentration. Eloise corrected him gently, guiding his fingers along the glowing sigils. Elon said little, only watching with that same piercing stare until, at last, a faint spark connected between Risha’s hand and the barrier. The dome thrummed, stronger for it.

Inside the largest tent, Cloud had curled into a shaggy heap, Risha’s bedroll half beneath him. The boy fell asleep quickly against the hound’s side, exhaustion winning over restless thoughts.

Outside, the desert night was sharpening, the air colder with every passing minute. Jeda approached the small fire where Sukira and Elon sat in silence, his steps deliberate, his shadow stretching long against the sand. 

Elon rose as if by instinct, brushing his hands clean. “I know, it's your turn.” 

“I love how you, slowly, are losing your stiff personality.” But Jeda shook his head, his green dark eyes fixed on him. “I want to switch and have a turn with you instead.”

The words settled heavily in the space between them. Sukira raised an eyebrow, silent, watching the exchange.

Elon’s lips thinned, but he didn’t move away. “With me?”

“Yes,” Jeda said simply. “With you.” 

“I hope you can forgive me”, Jeda talked again, but now looking at Sukira.

“Have fun”. She stood up and headed right to the tent. 

Elon didn’t sit again, but he didn’t walk off either. He stood across the fire from Jeda, arms folded, eyes narrowed as though measuring him.

Jeda broke the silence first. “So,” he drawled, poking at the fire with a stick, “How’s our golden boy doing? You know—after being dragged through Vlad’s little puppet show, burning yourself half to death, and brooding at everyone like it’s an Olympic sport.”

Elon’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “That’s a strange way of asking if I’m fine.”

“I don’t waste my charm on boring questions,” Jeda said. His grin was sharp, but his eyes stayed steady on Elon. “Besides, ‘fine’ isn’t an answer you’d give me anyway.”

For a long moment, Elon just stared at him, the firelight catching in his pale hair. Then he exhaled, a slow, uneven sound. “I’m not fine. Vlad—” His jaw clenched, the word bitter on his tongue. “He touched something that wasn’t his to touch. Sukira… laughing with him, like they shared something I’ll never understand. It makes me want to tear him apart with my bare hands.”

Jeda leaned back, smoke curling from his lips. “Mm. And what exactly did you see? You looked like someone had ripped your head open and stuffed it with nightmares.”

Elon’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t turn away. “Memories of her. Or pieces of them. Vlad wanted me to see something, and he succeeded. I don’t even know if it was real.”

“What did you see?” Jeda pressed, voice soft but insistent, like a blade testing for a gap in armor.

Elon’s mouth tightened. “I saw how he saved her. She was very young, and she was lost. I saw their lives together.” He spat the last word like poison.

Jeda’s brow arched. “Aha. Tell me, did she look happy with him?”

The silence stretched before Elon finally muttered, “Yes.”

Jeda’s brow lifted. “Jealousy looks good on you. Brings some color to that stone face.”

Elon shot him a look, but there was no real heat in it. “Don’t joke.”

“I never joke,” Jeda said lightly. “Except when I do.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So, you’re in love with someone impossible. Congratulations. Welcome to the club.”

Elon’s lips pressed into a thin line. “She’s not just impossible. She's unreachable. She’s unreadable. Every time I think I’m closer, she slips further away. Like she’s doing it on purpose.”

“Well, probably she is,” Jeda said flatly. Then, softer, “Doesn’t mean you should stop trying.”

Elon looked at him sharply, surprised by the lack of mockery.

Jeda shrugged, the firelight catching the scar along his jaw. “Look, I spend half my life pushing people until they break. It’s how I get what I need. But with her? She breaks you before you even touch her. That’s who she is. You’ve got two choices: walk away, or bleed for her.”

Elon’s voice was low, dangerous. “I’ve already chosen.”

Something shifted in Jeda’s expression — not pity, not amusement. Something closer to respect. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small pack, offering it across the fire. 

Elon hesitated, then took one. “Thank you,” he said quietly. 

Jeda struck a match, the flame briefly golden against the desert dark. He lit his own, then leaned over the fire to light Elon’s. Smoke curled between them.

“You should know,” Jeda said after a drag, his tone lighter again, “I’m still planning to have her for myself.”

Elon exhaled smoke, his eyes steady on him. “I expected nothing less.”

They sat silently for a while, the desert stretching endless and cold around them. Jeda kept playing his games without realizing something real had been slipping through.

♥︎

October 3rd 15.001.  

Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

Morning found them weary but alive. The air was heavy with dust, the ground still warm from yesterday’s storm. They gathered around a quick meal — bread, dried fruit, and whatever water Eloise had rationed carefully from her flask. No one spoke much until Sami broke the silence, leaning back on her hands, her sharp eyes narrowed against the rising sun.

“You realize what happened last night, right?” she asked.

Dominique raised a brow. “Why is it that all of you like riddles? Is everyone smarter than me or–”

“The desert’s a beast in daylight. But after dark, it calms down.” Sami tilted her head, her tone matter-of-fact. “Fewer storms. Cooler air. The sand doesn’t blind us, the sun doesn’t cook us alive. We should stop wasting our strength fighting the day and move at night.”

Sukira’s lips curved faintly, as if she’d already come to the same conclusion. “Luckily, we have someone with a brain.”

Dominique smirked but didn’t argue, tugging her hood lower against the blazing light. Eloise’s expression softened, relieved. “Then we rest by day, travel by night. That will work.”

“Better than watching you three shrivel under the sun,” Jeda muttered, chewing, looking at the three vampires of the group, more tired than usual. 

The plan was settled without debate. That day, instead of pressing forward, they lingered in the shelter of their camp, turning the hours into training.

Sukira began with her usual drills, pushing Risha through balance and movement until his t-shirt clung with sweat. The boy’s cheeks flushed, his lips dry, and at last he groaned, “It’s toooOo hot. And I’m thirsty.”

Elon’s voice cut through from where he stood nearby. “Then create water. You should be able to do it.”

Risha’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “Wait—what? I can make water?”

“Of course.” Elon stepped closer, his tone almost bored, though his gaze stayed sharp. “Remember what I told you some time ago, at the river?” He lifted a hand, palm upward, as if summoning the memory itself. “Water answers to balance. Push too hard, it collapses. Too soft, it slips away. If the element is already here, you draw it out. If it isn’t—”

Risha leaned forward, eager, not letting Elon finish the lesson. “Then I can just… make it?”

“You can,” Elon said. “At the beginning, it will drain you. Eventually, it will become easier. And it's smarter to use what’s already around. But now… we surely lack water.” He moved around, pointing out the obvious. 

Dominique exchanged a glance with Eloise. “Wait. He can actually create elements?”

“Apparently, yes,” Eloise murmured. Her eyes slid back to Elon. “I remember when Elon was learning to control his elemental magic, he used to fill our glasses with fresh water, so, yes, he should be able to create it, too.”

Jeda chuckled. “That’s a sorcerer, sweetheart.”

Risha, too distracted to hear them, lifted his hands, closing his eyes tight. The air shimmered between his palms. At first, nothing happened — then a droplet formed, wobbling, then stretching into a trembling bubble. With a gasp, Risha pulled it free. The sphere floated above his hands, clear and perfect, sunlight glinting through it.

His grin was blinding. “I did it!”

He leaned forward and sipped, the water breaking against his lips, spilling down his chin. He laughed, the sound bright against the desert’s silence.

“Good. Now keep it.” Sukira’s eyes narrowed, assessing. “Can you hold it while you move?”

Risha blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, stepping back. “Do the drills. Every step, all the exercises in the  routine you already nailed but with the sphere. Keep the water steady. If it falls, you start over.”

Groans circled the group. Dominique muttered, “Poor kid’s never catching a break.”

But Risha only straightened, determination burning. He tightened his fists, the bubble hovering above his palm, and stepped into the first movement of Sukira’s training.

The desert heat pressed down, but all eyes were on him now.

♥︎

October 6th 15.001.  

Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The caravan cut across the golden sand, headlights bobbing weakly against the vast night. Sukira’s van led the way, Jeda’s car and Sami’s motorcycle trailing behind, their engines' low hums against the silence. They had been moving for hours, the stars their only compass, when the stillness broke.

A sound — not wind, not engine. A guttural growl rolled over the dunes, followed by the scrape of claws on stone. The vehicles slowed to a halt.

“Out,” Sukira ordered, her voice sharp as the click of her guns being loaded.

The demon came fast, lumbering on four crooked limbs, its body heavy and misshapen. Its eyes glowed like coals in the dark, its maw lined with too many teeth. It was a wild demon. The difference between wild black magic beings and summoned ones was that wild ones were stronger but stupider, as they lacked conviction and order. 

“Eloise, you should know what to do by now”, Sukira commanded without even looking at her. Already both guns in her hands. 

Eloise nodded, without hesitation, she started drawing a protection spell as fast as her hands could move. Risha pressed against Cloud’s side. 

Dominique was next to them. She’s so amazing, thought to herself with her eyes stuck to Eloise’s hands, the context was nothing but chaotic. 

Near, Sami revved her bike as if daring it closer. 

Sukira didn’t hesitate. She darted forward, reckless grace carrying her right into its path. A volley of shots cracked through the night, silver rounds sinking into the demon’s chest. The creature reeled, roared, then lunged again — only for Sukira to pivot, her small blade flashing as she drove it up beneath its jaw.

Sami looked at Jeda, who was pretty calm, lighting a cigarette as he stood next to the car.

“Do you think it's meant to smoke a cig, idiot?”, Sami scolded him. 

“I just love watching a beautiful woman fight a disgusting demon.” He breathed out the smoke. “Calm down. She has everything under control”. 

The thing shuddered once, then collapsed into the sand with a hiss, dissolving into ash that the wind scattered in moments.

The fight was over as quickly as it began.

But Elon was already striding toward her, face set in ice. “Are you out of your mind?” His voice cut like a whip. “Charging head-on, alone, when you didn’t know what else was hiding out there—”

“Ah? Where’s this coming from?” Sukira snapped, wiping a dark magic trace from her forehead, confused as his reaction. 

“I want you to stop fighting like you are made of stell,” he shot back. His voice rose enough that the others shifted uncomfortably. “Do you think I’m going to watch you die again?”

Her eyes narrowed, dark as the night itself, glinting dangerously in the firelight of the fading engines. “You and your stupid fire didn’t kill me back there, blondie. And this wasn’t going to kill me either.”

“That’s not enough reason to–” he kept going. 

“Move. You’re in the middle.” She pushed him away a bit stronger than needed. 

The silence that followed was heavy, every eye on them. Elon’s hands flexed at his sides, but he said nothing more.

Sukira turned and walked back to the van, her dark, black leather coat snapping behind her. The group slowly returned to their vehicles too, unsettled and in silence. 

“Pfff. That was a great show, Sunshine. Keep treating her like she’s a weak little thing that needs your protection, and she will be all mine before you even notice”, Jeda said as he finished his cigarette and waited for Elon to get in his car to keep going. 

“Shut up.” Elon got into the car, slamming the door. 

♥︎

The ruins were half-swallowed by sand, the broken arches of some forgotten temple standing like teeth against the pale dawn. They made camp in the shadow of the stone, everyone collapsed instantly into sleep after a long night’s march.

Only Eloise remained restless. She slipped from the tent with a bundle of parchment and sat cross-legged on the cracked floor, tracing faded runes etched into the walls. Her lips moved in whispers, old words that tasted like dust and memory. The final notes of a spell she had hunted for months took shape beneath her fingers.

She barely noticed when Jeda appeared, leaning against a pillar with arms crossed. “You’re up early. Or late. Depends on how you look at it.” He putted on sunglasses. 

Eloise startled, clutching the parchment to her chest. “I-I’m just reading.”

“Mm.” His eyes flicked to the runes, then to the pouch at her side. “That dust you bought in Velmore? Strong stuff. You know it won’t give her eye back, right?” Jeda went right to the point. 

Her throat tightened. “You don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“And do you?” His tone wasn’t mocking, only steady. “Because all I see is you tearing yourself up over something you can’t fix.”

Eloise’s hands trembled. “I failed her. She lost her eye, and I couldn’t save it. If Elon hadn't been there to stop the bleeding, she probably would have died. And now she—she barely even looks at me. I have to fix it, Jeda. I can’t just…” Her voice broke. “I can’t just let it be.”

Jeda pushed off the pillar, crouching so he was level with her. “Listen. Dominique is reckless and a bit dumb, too. Always has been. She would’ve jumped in front of that bullet a thousand times, eye or no eye. That’s who she is. You are feeling guilty out of nothing.”

Eloise shook her head. “That’s not true… She’s distant. I feel she hates me.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn right she’s distant. You’re treating her like she’s broken. Like you owe her something. And she hates that, family trauma, you know?. What she wants is–” he stopped and grabbed his head, like it hurts.

“Agh, that stupid redhead vampire will kill me if I continue that phrase… But think about the rest, pull the pieces together, cupcake, you are smart enough.” Jeda finished. He lit a cigarette. 

Her eyes widened, wet with unshed tears. “But—”

Jeda cut her off gently, voice low. “I love Dom like a stupid little sister who doesn’t know when to duck. Which means I know her better than most. She doesn’t want pity eyes on her.”

The ruins were quiet around them, the sun creeping higher, casting long shadows through the cracks. Eloise swallowed hard, clutching the parchment. For the first time, the weight of her guilt seemed to shift — not gone, but not strangling her anymore.

♥︎

October 6th 15.001.  

Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

By the time everyone woke up, Sukira’s training lesson had already started. Some of them, still having their late breakfast, joined to see what today's training was about. 

The ruins became a sparring ground. Broken arches and shattered columns jutted out of the sand, perfect targets for practice. Sukira planted Risha in the center of the courtyard, pointing to a jagged stone jutting from the far wall, the same ruins that Eloise had been looking at earlier.

“Hit that,” she ordered.

Risha squared his stance, lifted his hands, and launched a tiny stone he had in his hand. His shoulders slumped.

“It’s too far,” he muttered.

“Not too far. You’re just not aiming right,” Sukira said coolly. “Try again.”

He tried — harder. A weak pulse of energy fizzled out halfway, scattering like sparks in the wind.

From where he leaned against a pillar, Elon finally spoke. “Don’t waste your strength on blunt force. Let’s try it with magic.” He stepped forward, crouching at Risha’s side. “Like this.”

A flick of his wrist, and shards of ice formed midair, sleek and sharp as arrowheads. They whirled once around his hand before sinking harmlessly into the sand.

Risha’s eyes lit up. “Ice darts? I can do that!”

“Yes, you can,” Elon said, sure that the little kid could put it together. 

The boy clapped his palms together, furrowed his brow, and channeled a trembling sliver of frost. It elongated awkwardly, crooked and uneven, but it held. He flung it toward the rock—

And it veered wildly off course, shattering against a column a few steps from Dominique’s head.

“HEY!” Dominique yelped, jerking back. “Trying to kill me already?”

Jeda doubled over laughing. “For the Blessings, kid, if you were aiming for her, it was perfect!”

Eloise clapped her hands to her mouth, torn between shock and stifled giggles. “He really missed—by that much?”

Even Sami chuckled, shaking her head. “At least it had enthusiasm.”

Risha flushed red as a tomato. “I didn’t mean—”

“Relax,” Dominique said, still smirking. “It will require more than an ice dard to kill me, pup.”

Sukira’s expression didn’t change, but her eyes narrowed, watching him closely. Instead of letting the moment sting, she clapped her hands once. “Enough laughing. All of you — your turn.”

That got their attention.

Dominique went first, lifting a stone she found on the floor. She snapped a chunk of the wall from the ground with one strike, flinging it neatly against the target rock.

“Even with one eye,” she grinned.

Sami cracked her knuckles, then grabbed her rifle. “Couldn’t be a cleaner shot.”

“YOU TOLD ME YOU HAVE EVEN BETTER EYES THAN ANY OTHER BEING. IT DOESN’T COUNT. IT'S CHEATING. GO. NEXT.” Risha shouted with all of his lungs without stopping between words, pushing Sami away from the shooting practice area. 

“You’ll awaken all of the spirits in this area, Risha,” Elon said, half-laughing, half-stunned.  

Eloise hesitated, murmured a charm, and released a small arc of lightning. It scorched the side of the rock with a satisfying hiss. She smiled shyly, cheeks pink.

Jeda picked up Sukira’s daga, waiting on her tight, tossed it lazily in his palm, then flicked it with perfect precision. It pinged dead center. “What is my prize?” He returned the blade to the same place he took it. Sukira smirked and stared at his eyes as he grabbed her leg. Did not reply to his flirting. 

Finally, Sukira stepped up, dragging Risha with her. She planted herself at the same distance he’d been standing, then raised three fingers. “Risha. How many?”

He blinked, squinting. His mouth opened, closed. “Uh… two?”

The group fell silent. Dominique’s grin faded. Eloise frowned. Jeda’s brows lifted slightly, realization dawning.

Sukira lowered her hand slowly. “Thought so.”

Risha flushed, confused. “What?? SoOorry, I meant three!”

“You didn’t,” Sukira said, voice calm but edged with something sharper. 

“So the wolf-up has bad eyesight,” Sami said, calmed. “We can fix that, kid. Don’t worry.” 

Laughs rolled over the camp while everyone started preparing to continue the road. 

♥︎

October 8th 15.001.  

Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The ruins where they stopped this time were quieter, sun baking the stone until it glowed pale against the desert sky. The others slept in tangled heaps of light blankets and cloaks, exhaustion pulling them deep.

Eloise lay awake, her heart thudding too loudly in her chest. She glanced at Dominique’s sleeping form beside her, the steady rise and fall of her breath, the faint scar across the bandage where her eye had been. Something inside Eloise twisted. She couldn’t wait any longer.

She reached out, fingers trembling as she brushed Dominique’s shoulder. “Domi,” she whispered. “Wake up. Please.”

Dominique stirred, groaning. “What is it? Did something happen?”

“Yes,” Eloise said, her voice breaking. “Me.”

Dominique blinked, pushing herself up on one elbow. “You?”

“Can we go outside for a sec?” Eloise asked, whispering. 

Dominique, still half-slept, nodded and followed her. 

Eloise’s throat burned as the words spilled out. “I have to tell you. I’ve been trying to fix what happened — your eye, the fight, everything. I’ve read spells until my vision blurred, bought powders I didn’t understand, searched ruins in the dark because… because I failed you. You lost your eye because I couldn’t heal you on time. I was shocked because I’m a crybaby, and ever since then, you’ve been slipping away from me. And it’s my fault. I’m so sorry, Domi. I just—please forgive me.”

Dominique stood there in stunned silence, her good eye wide, lips parted. “Eloise… you think you failed me?”

Tears threatened to spill as Eloise nodded.

For a long moment, Dominique just stared at her. Then, slowly, she reached out, cupping Eloise’s cheek with a calloused hand. “You’re the first person who ever cared this much about me. Do you realize that? No one has ever worried about me like this.”

Before Eloise could reply, Dominique leaned forward and pressed her lips to hers.

The kiss was warm, startling in its certainty. Eloise froze, then kissed back — until she suddenly pulled away, breathless. 

“Wait. Please stop for a second.”

Dominique blinked.

“You always do this,” Eloise whispered, words tumbling out. “You say or do something that leaves me wondering, but immediately after, you snap me out of it with your next action. I can’t think like this. I tend to overanalyze things — it’s how I make sense of the world — but you’re not leaving me time to understand what these feelings are.”

For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy but fragile. Then Dominique laughed softly, shaking her head. “I don’t understand a word you said.” She leaned back with a smile. “You can have all the time in the world, Eloise. Think whatever you need to think. I’ll wait for you.”

She brushed a strand of hair from Eloise’s forehead, and with a faint smile, she padded back toward the tent, leaving Eloise staring after her with her heart caught somewhere between fire and ache.

♥︎

October 11th 15.001.  

Oasis Villa, Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The village appeared like a mirage: palm trees bent toward the water’s mirror surface, huts of pale stone clustered close for shade. Unlike the harsh towns they’d crossed before, this one radiated warmth. The vampires here greeted them with open smiles, offering food and rooms at the tavern without asking who they were or why they traveled. Children ran barefoot by the water, their laughter cutting through the desert silence.

For the first time in weeks, the group allowed themselves to rest.

October 12th 15.001.  

Oasis Villa, Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

On the second afternoon, Sukira sat by the tavern’s open window, dismantling her guns piece by piece. The soft clink of metal was steady, methodical, the sunlight flashing along polished steel. Risha hovered nearby, eyes bright, his voice almost bubbling out of him before she could stop it.

“Teach me,” he said suddenly.

Sukira didn’t look up. Here we go again. Teach him what, exactly? I can’t follow him at all. 

“I’m not a baby. I can fight!” The kid was practically talking to himself now, words tumbling out in frustration. “I already fight! I dodge, I cast spells. I’m not useless.”

He squared his shoulders, daring her to deny it, and with a flick of his hands, little fish-shaped water forms shimmered into being. They circled around him, splashing faintly in the hot air, the desert heat baking against his flushed face.

Finally, Sukira glanced at him, eyes sharp. “Then tell me, Risha. What’s your weapon?”

The boy faltered. “I… I don’t know. A gun? A sword?”

“A gun, or a sword? Or both?” She flicked a finger, and one of the watery fish broke apart in a playful splash. “Which hand wields which? Tell me, then — is the sword big and heavy like Jeda’s?” She nodded toward the door where his massive blade rested against the wall. “Or smaller, like my dagger?”

Risha bit his lip, gaze darting between her blade and the shadow of Jeda’s. He clenched his fists. “Uhm.. I guess that–” The little fishes around his body started to shimmer, showing his emotions. 

Sukira tilted her head, expression unreadable. “Mm, no. No guessing this time. That’s the point. Until you understand what you want to wield — what suits you — you don’t wield anything at all.”

His face flushed red with frustration, all the water fishes now dismantled on the floor. He scowled, muttered something about wasting time, then stormed off, declaring he needed to “do some planks” in the courtyard.

The window stayed open, the sound of his effort soon drifting back inside: grunts, counting under his breath, determination laced with stubborn pride.

Sami appeared then, leaning against the wall with a raised brow. “What are you going to do when we reach La Paz?”

Sukira didn’t glance up from reassembling her guns. “What are you asking? You know what I need to do.”

Sami crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. “I’m not talking about the mission. I mean the kid.”

For once, Sukira’s hands slowed, her movements less precise. She set the gun down on the cloth between them, staring at it for a long beat. “Never—” Her voice caught, then steadied. “Never, not once in my life, has anything made me feel as sad as thinking about leaving him.”

The admission hung heavy in the still air. Sami’s smirk faded, her sharp gaze softening for the briefest moment.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t,” she said quietly.

“In order to keep him safe and alive, I must”. Sukira replied, with a sad tone in her words, she didn’t need to say more than that, Sami knew exactly what was she talking about, even if she didn’t agree. 

“Idiot”. Sami left without saying another word. 

But Sukira only shook her head, lips pressed tight, before turning back to her weapons as if the moment hadn’t happened.

♥︎

That evening, the tavern buzzed with low music and friendly voices. The village was small, but every night its people gathered at the single bar, laughter and wine spilling like water in the desert. The group claimed a long wooden table, pitchers already half-empty. Elon leaned against the wall nearby, as always, watching in silence.

“He’s staring again,” Dominique muttered, sipping her drink.

“He always does that,” Eloise whispered back. “Since he was a kid. My sister and I used to think he was trying to understand.”

“Understand what?” Dominique asked.

Eloise only laughed, shrugging helplessly.

“You get used to it,” Sukira added without looking up, her eyes still fixed on the book in her lap.

Elon’s voice cut cleanly through the chatter. “You know I can hear you, right?”

Jeda smirked, raising his glass. “We could all lose ourselves in those eyes of yours. Don’t blame us for noticing.”

Laughter rippled around the table, loosening shoulders. But Dominique leaned forward, expression turning sober. “We’re almost there. To La Paz. Maybe we should… say it. Why we fight. What keeps us moving.”

For a long moment, no one spoke. The silence was sharp, heavy with the knowledge that not all of them might live to see the end.

Jeda tapped ash into the tray and broke it first. “For the ones who can’t.”

Sami swirled her glass, her voice low, hooded. “For a better future.”

“To prove myself I can be stronger,” Eloise said, shy but steady.

“To show my stupid parents — and everyone else — there’s a better way of doing things.” Dominique lifted her glass in mock salute, grinning, but her voice carried more weight than her tone.

At last, all eyes turned to Elon and Sukira. They ignored the gazes, silence stretching between them.

And then, from the opposite far end of the table, a small voice piped up. “To protect the ones I love… because I couldn’t do it back then.”

Everyone froze.

“Risha…” Eloise whispered.

The boy flushed. “I’m going to sleep. Night!” He vanished before anyone could speak, Cloud padding after him with a soft huff.

The table stayed quiet, the laughter drained from it.

“We need to get better at noticing him,” Dominique said finally, voice low. “We talk about heavy things like he isn’t here.”

“It’s the first time he’s mentioned it,” Eloise murmured. Her hands were clenched white around her cup.

Jeda, mid-swallow, nearly choked on his wine. “Wait—hold on.” He slammed his glass down, eyes darting between them. “Did I hear you right? That was the first time he’s talked about the night he killed everyone he knew?” His voice cracked with disbelief, dripping sarcasm just to cover the shock.

No one answered. The silence confirmed it.

Sukira finally spoke, her tone flat, her eyes unreadable. “He never said anything about it. So we let it be.”

Jeda shot upright, his chair nearly toppling. “My beautiful goddess vampire… what the actual fuck?”

Everyone stared at him, startled, the whole tavern suddenly feeling smaller. He looked around, seeing their blank faces, and realized.

“Right. Of course. I’m the only human here.” He jabbed a finger toward the door where Risha had gone. “But he’s human too. And you—every single one of you—forgot that.” He lit a cigarette with a nervous gaze in his eyes. “For you maybe this time do not hold the importance that it does for a 10yo kid who will live a stupid small portion of what you’re going to experience. Have you stopped and think about that?”

The words hit harder than wine.

“He has a point,” Sami said at last, glancing between Sukira and Elon. Sukira sat perfectly still, eyes fixed on the book, while Elon stood behind her like a statue, arms crossed. 

The silence thickened again. It wasn’t only about Risha anymore. It was about all of them, the weight of what they’d lost and what they were dragging a child through.

Jeda leaned back, finally sinking into his chair, shaking his head with a bitter laugh. Blessings, help us. We’re so busy pretending to be soldiers, we forgot we’re dragging a kid into war.

The silence after Jeda’s words was suffocating. No one dared to meet his eyes — until Elon moved. He stepped forward, his expression unreadable, and set a steady hand on Jeda’s shoulder.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “More right than I would like to admit.” 

For a moment, Jeda only blinked, surprised by the rare acknowledgement, he placed his hand on top of Elon's. Then Elon turned, already striding toward the stairs that led to the rooms.

The others sat frozen, staring evenly at Sukira, waiting for her to show some sort of reaction, too. 

Sami leaned in, voice sharp. “Enough with the act. You’re going too.”

“You are not my mom”. Sukira replied to her with a tone she was not accustomed to use with her old friend, sharp, dry and way too sarcastic. 

“Of course not, idiot. Your mother is dead and you are pretty old already. But it seems you need some scolding like a little child to snap out of whatever this is”. Sami replied while everyone on the table couldn't believe that someone had the audacity to talk to Sukira this way. 

Finally, with a sharp sigh, Sukira pushed back her chair, threw the book on the table like a teenager in anger, and followed Elon’s steps in silence. 

♥︎

The room upstairs was dim, curtains drawn against the moonlight. Risha was curled on the bed, pressed into Cloud’s fur, his small shoulders trembling. Elon sat beside him, one hand resting lightly on the boy’s back.

When Sukira entered, Risha turned away, scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. “I don’t want to talk.”

Elon’s voice was calm, but firm. “That’s okay. I—” He glanced at Sukira, then corrected himself. “We have something to say. You just need to listen”

Cloud shifted, licking the boy’s hand. Slowly, Risha lifted his head. His face was streaked with tears, eyes swollen and raw.

Sukira crouched at the edge of the bed, her voice quieter than usual. “Losing someone you love… It's hard. It doesn’t matter how strong you are. It hurts. And it’s okay to cry. It’s okay to lean on others.” She paused and looked at Elon. “You can lean on us”. 

Risha blinked at her, confused. “Do you… Do you cry, too? You get hurt, too? But you are strong, how can you get hurt?”

Sukira and Elon shared an exhausted glance. Questions. A storm of questions. Of course. 

“Yes,” she said simply.

The boy’s gaze shifted to Elon, forgetting completely all the things he had asked her. “What about you? Did you lose someone?”

Elon hesitated, but he answered. “My mother. A long time ago. I was around your age.” His voice was steady, but his eyes were fixed far away. “I still miss her.”

Risha frowned, then turned back to Sukira. “And you?”

Her lips pressed thin. For once, she didn’t deflect. “My parents. I lost them, too. I don’t even remember the sound of their voices anymore.”

The room fell into silence, heavy but strangely comforting. Risha’s breathing hitched as he buried his face in Cloud’s fur again.

After a long moment, Sukira asked softly, “And you... who did you lose, Risha?”

The boy’s shoulders shook. “My dad and my mom. When I was five. They got sick… and they didn’t get better.” He swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “So I went to live with my uncle. We traveled. He was nice. He took care of me.” 

They shared looks again. They were certainly not expecting this turn of events. 

“Do you remember them, Risha?” Elon asked softly. 

His voice broke. “I do. I miss them all.”

“It's nice that you remember them, kid. Feel free to tell us more about them if you like. That’s how you’ll keep the memory alive,” Sukira added. 

Tears spilled again, and he clung tighter to Cloud. But then, after a long pause, he added in a whisper, “I’m happy now, though. With you.” His hand tightened on Elon’s sleeve, then shifted toward Sukira’s. “With both of you.”

They said nothing, only stayed beside him. Elon’s hand stayed steady on his shoulder; Sukira’s brushed gently over his hair.

Exhaustion overtook him, and he drifted into sleep. Risha’s breathing steadied, soft and uneven, the last of his tears drying against Cloud’s fur. The small beast gave a low huff, protective even in sleep. Elon and Sukira lingered beside the bed, unmoving, as if leaving too soon might undo the fragile calm they had coaxed back into the boy.

Sukira glanced at Elon. His eyes met hers, sharp and tired, and the air between them tightened.

Finally, Elon stood up. His hand brushed lightly over Risha’s shoulder one last time before he stepped into the hallway. Sukira followed, closing the door behind them with the softest click.

The corridor was calm, the tavern’s noise muffled below. For a moment they stood in silence, the weight of what had just passed thick between them.

“I can’t do this, Elon,” she said, plain but with a sadness that clung to every syllable.

“Let’s go outside.” He grabbed her hand without thinking. For a heartbeat, she stiffened, then let her small frame be drawn by his, following him as if against her better judgment. Why do I always let him pull me where I swore I wouldn’t go?

They stopped at the side of the tavern, under a vast full moon. A bench and a pair of swings lightly swayed in the night air, a ghost of children’s laughter in the space.

“What is it that you can’t do?” Elon broke the silence, voice rougher than usual.

“I can’t play the happy family.”

“Well, you should have thought about that before, don’t you think?” He paced restlessly, sharper, more unsettled than she’d ever seen him. He started walking and moving frenetic in front of her, unable to stay still. 

I’ve never seen him move this much, and nevertheless, I can’t move at all. 

Sukira stayed still, watching him like a predator waiting for a weak point. Her arms folded, but her eyes betrayed the sting of his words.

“You should have thought about this before—”

“Before what? I told you a hundred times, I have something else to do.”

“Before filling our hearts with hope.”

“Our hearts?” She laughed, short and bitter. “So this isn’t about the kid anymore.”

He froze. His gaze locked on hers, sharp and unflinching. “I think of him as mine to protect. Like you.”

The words landed like a strike. Sukira folded her arms tighter, scoffing faintly. “Protect me? Is that what you think you’re doing? Because from where I’m standing, I’m the one who’s been protecting you.”

“That’s only because you won’t let me.” He dragged a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into every movement. “I want to protect you. Even the thought of losing you—” His breath stuttered. Say it. She needs to know. “I already know what it feels like to lose everything. I can’t… I won’t feel that again. Not with him, and not with you.”

She broke the rhythm suddenly. “I have a question.”

“That’s new,” he muttered, but he stopped pacing, letting the pause hang between them.

“If, for some reason, you needed to choose between me and humanity itself…” She paused, her tone almost playful, but her eyes searched his with something sharper. “…what would you choose?”

“What kind of question is that? There’s no point—”

“Answer. Play my game,” Sukira said, her voice like a blade pressed to his throat.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Elon’s jaw clenched. “I don’t like your game,” he replied, dead serious.

She shifted, restless, her defenses climbing higher. 

“You’re impossible, Elon. Complicated. Stubborn. Always contradicting me, undermining me, and refusing everything I command. Can’t you just—” Her voice cracked, softening. “Lie to me sometimes? Indulge me. Try harder. Do as Jeda does.” That last part was unnecessary, but she added it on purpose. 

He stepped closer, close enough that she felt his warm presence sink into her bones. For a heartbeat, it seemed like he might close the gap, but he stopped short.

“You can bend everyone’s soul to your will, Sukira. Everyone but mine.”

She lifted her chin, refusing to look away. “Why?”

“Because that’s how important you are to me. I won’t be another soul you twist. I’ll be the one who stays, no matter how much it hurts.”

Her breath caught. His words pierced deeper than any flattery, deeper than any wound she had learned to ignore. For once, she had nothing sharp to throw back, no void to hide behind.

The silence stretched, charged, fragile. Both of them leaned forward half an inch, as if pulled by some gravity neither of them could fight—and then both stepped back at the same time, the air snapping between them.

Sukira turned first, her voice quieter than the rest of her. “I guess I’ll be the one leaving, then. And it sure hurts like hell.”

Before he could answer, she vanished into her void, leaving only the faint shimmer of dust behind.

Elon’s lips curved, pained and tender all at once. He touched the dust as it fell through his fingers. 

♥︎

October 13th 15.001.  

Oasis Villa, Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The last night at the oasis carried a strange tension. The village had gone quiet after their farewells, lanterns dimming one by one, leaving the group to pack their things under a rising moon. The air smelled of saltwater and dust, the calm before the desert swallowed them again.

Risha was everywhere at once — chasing Cloud around the wagons, climbing onto Sami’s bike until she shooed him off, then tumbling back with a laugh. “We’re almost there! We’ll beat the desert, I know it!” His voice rang bright, too loud, too happy, filling the cracks the others tried to ignore.

The adults moved more slowly, weighed down by what lingered from the night before. Sukira kept her hood low, saying nothing as she checked the car. Her silence was sharp enough to cut.

Sami nudged her with an elbow. “What, cat got your tongue?”

No reply.

Jeda leaned against the van, smirking. “Or maybe a sorcerer did. What the hell did you do to her, Elon?”

Sukira voided away, she didn’t even try to hide how much she didn’t want to be there. 

Elon, of all people, didn’t deflect. He was calmer than usual, even approachable, his expression softer than the others had ever seen. “Nothing, she didn’t let me,” he said evenly, closing the trunk with a snap of magic.

Jeda barked a laugh, shaking his head. “Now you play funny?”

Sami’s brows lifted, amused, but she let it go.

Around them, the camp bustled with final preparations — straps tightened, engines checked, weapons loaded. The oasis shimmered behind them, a brief mirage of safety already fading into memory. Ahead stretched the last, merciless stretch of Ashveil.

The air was restless, charged. They all felt it. The desert was waiting.

♥︎

Engines rumbled low against the endless dunes, headlights carving narrow tunnels of light through the dark. The air was cool, the night sky so sharp with stars it almost hurt to look at. They had been driving for hours in silence, the oasis a fading dream behind them.

Then the silence broke.

It began with Cloud — the wolf’s ears shot up, hackles bristling as a low growl rumbled in his chest. Risha leaned forward in the van, wide-eyed. “What is it?”

The answer came a second later: a roar, guttural and bone-deep, rolling over the sand like thunder. Then another. And another.

Shapes moved in the dark, fast and low. The headlights caught them in flashes: Massive creatures with patchy hides, tusks curling out of their mouths, and claws that ripped deep lines through the sand as they rushed forward. Natural, feral things — born of the desert, not Calamity or magic were involved. And there were too many of them.

“Out!” Sukira barked, slamming the van to a halt.

The desert exploded.

The first wave of beasts hit like a storm, tusks and claws, fur bristling with sand, eyes glowing in the dark. The ground shook under their charge.

But the group was ready.

Sukira was the first blur into motion, void-stepping high into the air. She reappeared above the front line, guns spitting silver fire as she spun in a midair kick, her boots smashing into a beast’s skull. She landed low, a swirl of cloak and sand, already moving again before the body collapsed.

Elon raised one hand, and the desert itself answered. A wall of jagged ice erupted from the sand, skewering three beasts mid-leap. He didn’t speak, didn’t gesture — magic bent for him as naturally as breath. A flick of his wrist turned the shards into spears, launching them into the second line.

Sami took position on top of the van, rifle braced, eyes sharp. Each crack of her weapon echoed like thunder. Beasts fell before they even reached the group, bullets finding weak points in eyes and joints. “You’re welcome!” she shouted between shots.

Dominique stepped into the fray with nothing but her rings. They flashed once, then expanded into silver gloves that shone under the moonlight. Her fists became hammers. She struck a beast square in the jaw, sending it spinning into the sand. Another leapt — she ducked, then drove both fists up into its ribcage, the crack loud enough to drown its scream.

Jeda moved slower than the rest, deliberate, but every step shook the sand. His massive blade sang as it cut through tusks, through bone, through hides thick as stone. When a beast barreled straight for Eloise, he stepped into its path, letting claws rake against his tattooed skin before cleaving the creature in two. “Ugh,” he muttered, shaking blood from his blade and watching his white shirt all shredded, “why does it always have to be messy?”

Eloise stayed behind the line, her voice steady as she wove lightning into the air. Bolts snapped from her hands, searing beasts into twitching heaps. She guided her power carefully, her protection spells covering the gaps in the others’ movements.

At first, it worked. The group moved as one, their rhythm honed by weeks of training and survival. Sukira darted between Elon’s barriers; Sami’s rifle shots cleared openings for Dominique’s fists; Jeda’s blade cut space for Eloise’s magic strikes to pour through. Even Risha, pressed back with Cloud, managed to keep water orbs hovering as small distractions that threw beasts off balance.

For a moment, they tasted victory. Then the second wave hit.

From the dunes came larger beasts — horned, plated, their hides bristling like armor. They crashed through Elon’s ice walls, shrugged off Dominique’s punches, and even Jeda’s blade seemed to struggle a bit against their bulk.

Chaos surged.

Sami’s rifle clicked empty. “Reloading!” she shouted, dropping behind the van as two beasts lunged at her position. Sukira vanished into her void, reappearing midair to fire downward, taking them out before they reached her friend.

Dominique got pinned under the weight of one of the plated monsters, snarling as she struggled. “A little help?!”

Elon flicked his hand and the beast froze — literally, encased in a block of ice — but another slammed into him before he could react. He hit the sand hard, coughing blood.

Jeda pulled him up with one hand, swinging his blade with the other to cleave the attacker in two. “Stay upright, sorcerer. You’re too expensive to replace.”

“Try to keep up in silence,” Elon hissed, with a small smile.

Eloise was surrounded by magic flashing too fast for her to control. Her face was pale, sweat pouring. Sukira blurred to her side, a boot striking a beast’s head clean off before it reached Eloise. “Focus!” Sukira barked, firing over her shoulder at another.

The battlefield was a storm of sand, blood, and fury. For every beast they killed, two more seemed to rise from the dunes, stronger, bigger than the ones before; their roars shaking the night as calling others to join the pack.

They were good. They were organized. They fought like they belonged together. Only a few of them really had fighting experience, but it didn’t matter; they had learned from each other. 

“Left flank!” Sami shouted from the van roof, reloading with lightning speed. Sukira vanished, reappeared in the air above the left side, her guns blazing. Elon swept a hand across the sand — the bullets froze midair, refracting into dozens of copies that struck down beasts in a storm of silver light.

Sukira landed with a sharp kick, spinning low to sweep another beast off its feet. “Show-off.”

“You should thank me, I’m not even using fire,” Elon muttered, but his lips twitched faintly.

Dominique ducked under a horned monster’s swing. “I need a boost!”

“I’ve got you!” Eloise cried. Light surged from her hands, striking Dominique’s silver gloves. The charge exploded as Dominique punched, her fist crackling as it tore through the beast’s armored skull.

“Now that’s a hit!” Dominique grinned, shaking out her sparking hands.

Jeda groaned as another beast clawed against his tattooed arm. “Ugh. I hate dirt. Blood stains are the worst.”

“Then stop letting them hit you!” Sami snapped, firing over his shoulder.

“That’s literally my job!” he barked, swinging his blade in a clean arc that split the beast in two.

For a moment, it worked. They laughed, they fought, they moved together like a single body. Victory tasted real.

Cloud snarled. The wolf launched itself into a massive beast, bigger than the others, teeth tearing at its throat. Risha cried out as three smaller creatures broke off from the pack, circling him.

“Risha, behind you!” Eloise screamed.

The boy’s eyes widened, hands trembling as he traced a shaky rune in the air — the one Eloise had taught him weeks ago. Light flared, a shimmering shield bursting around him. The beasts slammed into it, thrown back in snarling confusion.

“I did it!” Risha gasped, stunned at his own strength.

Elon’s head snapped toward him. “Risha—”

In the same heartbeat, the battlefield went quiet. The last of the beasts lay dead in the sand, their bodies dissolving into nothing. Only one remained.

The king of the pack stepped forward. Taller than any of the others, its body twisted between man and beast, fur mixed with bone, a jagged blade clutched in its clawed hand. Its eyes burned with a cruel intelligence.

Elon barely had time to turn in front of Risha before the thing lunged, blade arcing down to strike him.

She sensed it and tore through the void, hoping to make it on time. 

He turned and froze. The air cracked.

A clean shot was fired the instant she materialized. The energy bullet blew through the beast’s skull, snapping its head back—

—but its blade was already in motion, way before she could notice.

A long pause stood, the calm after a battle already reached the group. 

But it was a fake calm. Sukira looked down in disbelief as a massive sword stood through her body, jutting out almost the her same size, blood running down the steel and dripping on the sand.

“NO!” Eloise screamed, who was already sprinting for Risha. She scooped him up, pressing a glowing hand to his temple. “Sleep!” His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in her arms, limp and safe from the sight.

Elon stood right in front of them, and right behind Sukira, paralyzed. Her small figure, her pale skin stark against the spreading red. She stayed standing, as she would guard both of her boys until her last breath, the killing gun slipping from her hand, her body shocked around the blade.

Elon’s breath caught. His hands trembled as he tried to reach her shoulders. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Turn around, say something. ‘That was close, blondie.’ Look at me. His ears were buzzing, and everything was moving slowly. 

“ELON!” Jeda’s roar cracked across the battlefield, raw and furious. “MOVE, YOU DAMN FOOL!”

He returned to himself.

Elon surged forward, catching her before she collapsed. Blood poured against his chest, soaking into his clothes, his hands shaking as they pressed against the wound. “Sukira—”

The first rays of dawn cut across the desert, painting her skin in firelight. Elon’s magic surged wild, uncontrolled. He wrapped her in his arms and, without realizing, a capsule of frost bloomed around them, sealing them in a cocoon of cold, halting her bleeding, locking her between death and survival. 

♥︎

The sun arise higher, and inside the capsule, the world was silent but for the drip of blood against ice. Sukira’s breath came shallow, her skin pale, more than usual, the monstrous blade still jutting from her chest. Elon’s arms tightened around her as if he could hold her soul inside her body by force.

Her hand, slick with her own blood, lifted weakly to stroke his hair back from his face. “Sorry for the mess,” she whispered, a shadow of a smirk. 

Tears stung his eyes, though he forced them back. She tilted her chin, eyes narrowing faintly in something that almost resembled pride. “I told you. I’m the one always protecting you.”

When her lids began to flutter shut, he snapped forward, his voice rough. “No. Stay with me. I need you to listen to me. I know you don’t like it, but you’ll have to.”

Her lips curved, faint but certain. She smiled at him — and he understood. She was listening.

“I’ll take out the blade,” he said, forcing calm into his voice. “You’ll lose a lot of blood. But you need to stay with me while I heal you.”

She let out a shaky laugh that turned into a cough. “You don’t have that amount of power.” 

She wasn’t teasing him. Elon was good at healing himself, but when it came to healing others, he was not better than Risha itself. 

“I do,” he said in a voice sharper than he intended. His eyes burned with something dangerous, something determined. “I can. I’ll explain later. For now, your role is to stay awake. I won’t be able to hold you up; I need to focus on this.” He looked at the wound.

His gaze wandered around searching for answers on how to keep her awake, and an idea hit him. “Tell me why you did it. That will keep you busy while I work.”

Sukira’s laugh was broken, but genuine. “Bossy, aren’t you?”

“Are you ready?” he looked at her crimson eyes, and she nodded. 

They both took a deep breath, synchronizing their bodies. He held tight and, with a steady hand, he wrenched the blade free, while holding her close with his other arm. Blood gushed, hot and terrible, but his palm pressed instantly to the wound, magic flaring bright.

“Start talking”, he commanded.

“You were going to die,” Sukira managed, her voice mocking even now. “Nobody dies on my watch.”

“You know that wouldn’t kill me,” Elon shot back. “You stabbed me in the heart once, and I healed just fine. Stop fooling around. Tell me why you did it.”

Her mouth quirked despite the pain. “You shouldn’t be talking, blondie.”

A breathless laugh escaped him, half a sob, but he nodded. 

Her eyes softened, far more dangerous than her smirk. “I don’t know why I did it. I didn’t think. Which is strange. I always think beforehand. I survived this far because of it. But this time…”

Elon’s voice was tight. “But this time what?” He was clearly angry and impatient. 

She let out a broken laugh, wincing at the pain. “This time I just… moved.” Her gaze caught his, unflinching. “Maybe this is what love feels like.”

“You’re delirious. You’ve lost too much blood.” Elon didn’t even tremble at her last words. 

“No.” Her voice came clearer, her honesty sharper than ever. “It’s the opposite. On the doors of death, I see it clearly. I’m a rational thinker and I can’t decipher any other reason why I did that.” 

Shit. I need more time. He leaned closer, voice low but steady. “Tell me something else. Anything. Keep your eyes open.”

She let out a strained chuckle, closer to collapsing. “I’m so tired of you, really.”

“Good. Argue with me. We are good at that.”

Her head tilted faintly against his shoulder, her smile weak but real.

A shaky laugh escaped him, more tears blurring his vision. 

“Today I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time”.

Elon’s voice was tight. “What did you feel?”

“Fear. A tremendous and irrational fear of losing you and Risha. I completely forgot how it felt; that feeling threw me in front of that blade.”  

Blood bubbled at her lips as she coughed again. Elon’s heart lurched, his magic faltering as panic surged. This can’t be happening. 

“I love you too,” he whispered, the words torn from him before he could stop them. His magic flared, desperate. “But I won’t forgive you if you leave me now.”

Her lips twitched into the smallest smirk, even as her body oscillated between life and death. “I’m not looking for your forgiveness.” She paused; she was having issues breathing, her lungs were filled with blood.  “But that’s low, blondie. Using guilt while I’m bleeding out.”

“You promised,” he said, almost growling the word, “to escort me and Risha to La Paz. You don’t get to break that.”

Her eyes fluttered, heavy, but she forced them open again. “You can’t pull that move on me when I’m dying after saving your ass.”

“Then stop dying,” he snapped, pressing harder against the wound, pouring more of himself into her. “Just… stop.”

“Stop telling me what to do”. Her laugh was barely a breath. 

He poured more of himself into the wound, cold burning into his veins.

At last, the ice capsule started melting, the desert air rushing back in as dawn broke over them.

The others stood in silence, frozen at the sight: Elon still on his knees, Sukira in his arms, both of them drenched in blood. Her body had not moved from the position she had collapsed into, pale and fragile as glass.

“Risha is sleeping,” Eloise said quickly, stepping forward. Her voice trembled, but she forced calm. “He didn’t see.”

Elon’s head dipped once, slow. “Thank you.”

No one else spoke. The silence pressed heavier than the rising sun.

Then Jeda cleared his throat, voice rough. “Not to ruin the moment, but—” he lost the idea of what he was about to say, lost in what he had just realized. He gestured with his chin at Elon’s collar, torn and open. “You dirty bastard. Nice move.”

All eyes dropped to his chest. The tattoo he had covered his chest all of these months had vanished completely, the skin raw where it had been burned away by magic.

♥︎

Sukira was alive. Barely. Incredibly weak. But breathing.

Jeda’s voice was the first to cut through the silence. “We’re not making it to headquarters like this. There’s a village nearby—forty minutes, give or take. It's a checkpoint before La Paz. I know their people, they’ll have doctors.” His tone was brisk and decisive, giving everyone something solid to hold onto.

Dominique took the wheel of Sukira’s van, Eloise sliding in beside her. Their hands found each other automatically, fingers lacing tight. The engine growled, wheels spinning against the sand. Behind them, Risha lay sprawled across the cushions with Cloud, the wolf’s chest rising unevenly, patches of fur clotted with blood. Eloise kept glancing over her shoulder, words spilling low between her and Dominique—comfort, worry, a quiet tether to keep the van steady.

Jeda’s car followed closely. He drove silently, jaw set, the desert’s dawn light carving lines into his face. Elon sat in the back, Sukira cradled against him, her weight unnervingly light. He pressed his palm over the place where the wound was, feeling every shallow breath she took.

Jeda’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. “She’ll be okay,” he said, voice rough but certain.

Elon didn’t look up. “I just feel something worse is coming.”

“How gloomy,” Jeda muttered. A beat passed, then softer: “Don’t lose yourself in this, Sunshine. Need to stay solid, you know… for the kid.”

The only reply was the low hiss of Elon’s breath as he forced calm into his veins.

Sami rode alongside on her motorcycle, visor down, dust trailing behind her like a banner. She kept pace easily, eyes scanning every rise of the sand, every shifting shadow, until the desert finally broke into greener land.

October 14th, 15.001

Checkpoint Villa, Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The village came into view before long: squat stone buildings arranged in rigid lines, smoke rising from chimneys. Beyond the walls, the sea glittered cold and endless; a strip of woods pressed close on the other side, dense and watchful.

They rolled through the gates without question—Jeda’s presence was enough. Soldiers and medics converged at once, stretching out hands to lift, to carry.

The hours blurred. Whitewashed rooms. The sharp scent of disinfectant. Hands pressing against wounds, needles sliding in, whispered reassurances in practiced tones.

Sukira was checked and stabilized, pale against the stretcher, but no longer bleeding. Her chest rose steadily now.

♥︎

When her lashes flickered open again, she felt a smaller weight pressed against her side. Risha, curled against her with Cloud’s massive head resting by their legs, was fast asleep, his face still streaked with dirt and dried tears.

Her lips twitched—the faintest ghost of a smile—before she tilted her head back against the pillow.

Sami sat nearby on a stool, arms crossed, eyes sharp despite the exhaustion dragging at her frame. When she noticed Sukira was awake, she leaned in, voice low but steady.

“You idiot.”

Sukira let out the most silent laugh, her voice hoarse. “That’s the first thing you say to me?”

“It’s the only thing worth saying.” Sami’s brows furrowed, but there was no real anger in them. “I’ve seen you dodge cannon fire, slip out of burning taverns, and outrun bounty hunters twice your size. And now you decide the best move is standing still in front of a giant with a sword?”

“Bad day at the office,” Sukira murmured, shifting faintly against the stretcher while holding the kid on top of her body. 

Sami shook her head, exhaling through her nose. “You always did have a flair for drama. Still, you usually walk away without a scratch. I’d almost started to think you were untouchable.”

Sukira smirked weakly. “Sorry to ruin the illusion.”

The silence between them softened, filled with the steady drip of water from some distant pipe. Sami leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. Her tone shifted, gentler.

“You and I both know we’ve cheated death more times than is healthy. But this one? This was reckless, even for you.”

Sukira’s gaze slid toward the boy still asleep at her side. “Maybe I had a reason.”

Sami followed her eyes, then snorted. “Don’t get sappy on me now.”

For a moment, they both breathed in sync, mercenaries sharing the weight of too many battlefields. Then Sami straightened, her expression sharpening again.

“One more thing. Normally, you can hold yourself through a red moon like it’s nothing, pretending like you really are human. But not this time.”

Sukira’s eyes narrowed faintly. “Why not?”

“Because you’ve bled half your body weight onto that battlefield. You’re too weak to keep it down. When the red moon rises tonight, it’s going to pull at you. Hard.”

Sukira let her head fall back on the pillow, expression unreadable. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

Sami’s smirk was quick, almost fond. “Idiot. I notice everything.”

♥︎