Nyra was the first to move. She didn't think her body just acted, her feet pounding against the scorched earth as she rushed toward Thal. Her body was sore, her lungs burned from the fight, but None of that mattered more than anyone, she was the most worried.
The force of the explosion had sent him skidding through the battlefield, his massive body a broken mess of burns, wounds, and dried blood. He had been impaled, set ablaze, crushed beneath the very earth itself.
Yet as she reached him, heart pounding, breath ragged Thal stood up effortlessly as if nothing had happened.
Nyra skidded to a stop, blinking rapidly, her brain struggling to process what she was seeing.
Thal, in a single, casual motion, ran a massive hand down his arm, brushing away the burnt skin as if it were nothing more than dust. Beneath the charred remnants, new flesh lay untouched, as if the flames had never truly touched him. The realization hit her like a boulder. He hadn't just survived that and he had healed through it but then her eyes widened.
His beard was gone. His long mane of hair had been burned away, now cut short and ragged, just long enough to fall over his eyes. His once thick fur cloak and clothing had been completely incinerated.
He was…. naked. Nyra froze. A deep red blush immediately burned across her face, spreading down her neck. Her lips parted as if to say something, anything but nothing came out.
Thal, completely unbothered, turned his attention toward her. His golden eyes, now partially hidden behind his shortened hair, studied her instead. His gaze flicked to her shoulder. Then he raised a hand, pointing at it.
Nyra blinked. "What?"
Thal's voice was calm, as if none of this was unusual. "Your arm."
Confused, Nyra followed his gaze and froze again. Her severed limb was still floating beside her. The blood tendrils connecting it to her body pulsed, shifting slightly in the air. Then it began to move.
The blood contracted, pulling the limb back toward her body, as if like a magnet drawn to steel. Nyra gasped slightly as the sensation returned, nerves reconnecting in a wave of heat and pressure.
The moment her arm touched her shoulder, the flesh stitched itself together, the blood solidifying into muscle, skin, and bone. Within seconds, her arm was back where it belonged. Nyra flexed her fingers. It was as if it had never been severed in the first place. She stared at it in utter disbelief her breathing hitched. "The fuck?"
By the time Luken and Valen arrived, their boots crunching against the charred earth, they took one look at the situation and immediately stopped dead in their tracks. Luken's gaze flicked between Nyra and Thal, his brain visibly struggling to decide which was the bigger problem. Nyra, who had just reattached her own arm, as if it were a removable piece of armor ? Or Thal, Naked.
Valen, standing beside him, pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something profane under his breath.
After a long, heavy silence, Luken finally spoke. "…I don't even know what to process first."
Nyra's breathing was uneven, her hands flexing open and closed as she stared at her arm. It felt… normal.
The same strength, the same movement her fingers curled and uncurled with ease, her grip around her axe still firm. It was as if it had never been severed at all. Yet, in the back of her mind, she knew what had just happened. Her arm had been completely removed. She had reattached it. The worst part? She hadn't even tried to.
A cold chill ran up her spine, the initial rush of battle fading into the weight of realization. She knew Berserkers could push their bodies beyond human limits, that their strength, endurance, and resilience were unnatural but this. This was something else. Her hands clenched into fists. "What the fuck just happened to me?" she muttered, voice low and shaken.
Thal, meanwhile, wasn't looking at her like she was unnatural. He was looking at her like she should have already known. As he ripped a tattered piece of his burnt cloak from the wreckage, tying it around his waist with a casual ease, he spoke not with shock, not with hesitation but with certainty. "You're a Berserker." He pulled the cloth tight, his now shortened hair still obscuring part of his face. "Your kind can manipulate their bodies in extreme and unorthodox ways."
Nyra's breath was still uneven. "Yeah, but not like this."
Thal watched her carefully. His golden eyes held something else not confusion, but curiosity. "You didn't know you could do that." It wasn't a question. It was an observation. Nyra hesitated. No. She hadn't known. Not at all.
Thal glanced down at her arm again, his gaze flicking from her blood bound limb to the weapon clutched in her hand. His voice was calm, but the words carried weight. "Yet you had no trouble making your axe."
The moment he said it, Nyra went still. Her grip on the handle tightened, her knuckles turning white.
Luken and Valen both turned to Thal, their expressions shifting into clear confusion.
"What do you mean," Valen asked, crossing his arms, "by how she made her axe?"
Nyra didn't answer. Neither did Thal. He didn't elaborate. He didn't explain because he already knew. Not the how, not the details but he knew what it was made from. Human remains. Nyra refused to meet anyone's gaze.
Luken narrowed his eyes, glancing between her and Thal, clearly trying to piece something together. "Nyra?"
She said nothing. The fire behind them crackled softly, the embers still smouldering. The wind carried the faint stench of burnt flesh and blood, but at this moment, the battlefield wasn't the thing weighing on her mind. For the first time, she felt like she didn't even understand herself.
Thal, however, looked at her one last time, before turning away. "…We should keep moving."
The battle was over. The Threshen was dead. But the Shadowfern was still alive, its cursed land lingering around them like a wound that refused to heal.
Thal exhaled, surveying the scorched battlefield. The ground was still blackened from Luken's firestorm, the trees twisted, the earth scarred from their fight. The forest wasn't shifting anymore. The creeping roots had stopped moving. The black river had settled. For now, at least, the land was quiet.
He turned to the others. "You all need to rest." His voice was calm but firm. "We're heading back to the cave."
Nyra looked like she wanted to argue, her fingers still flexing around her axe, but even she was exhausted. Her body was holding itself together in ways she didn't fully understand yet.
Valen, despite trying to act unaffected, was breathing heavily, his usual smirk absent. His blades were still in his hands, but his grip was weaker, his stance not as sharp as before.
Tar didn't say anything he never did but he was bleeding. The massive Minotaur had wounds he hadn't bothered to acknowledge, deep gashes where the Threshen's spikes had torn into him.
While Luken wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. His staff was dragging against the ground as he stumbled forward, his shoulders slumped. His Kruul eye was still glowing faintly, the horn protruding from his head untouched by illusion. Normally, he'd have covered it by now, hidden it beneath a spell. Right now, he didn't have enough magic left to care.
His breaths were ragged, his body running on nothing but exhaustion and sheer willpower. He caught Valen staring at him, his expression unreadable, before the rogue shook his head and kept walking. Nyra, too, had glanced at him but said nothing.
Thal turned without another word, leading the way back toward the cave.
As they trudged back toward the cave, the weight of exhaustion hung over them like a thick fog. The battle had been won, but it had left its mark on their bodies, their minds, and the land itself.
The cursed remnants of the Shadowfern still loomed, the twisted trees standing like silent witnesses to the carnage. The blackened earth was still warm beneath their feet, smoke curling from the places where Luken's fire had devoured the corruption.
No one spoke at first. The only sounds were their footsteps and the occasional groan of shifting armor or weapons being adjusted. Then Valen, ever the opportunist, broke the silence.
"So," he said, his voice carrying that same casual lilt he always had except this time, there was an edge of forced normalcy. His gaze flicked toward Thal, who was walking ahead, his massive form still looming despite his burnt and tattered state. "Nice haircut."
Nyra, who had been lost in thought, blinked, her expression shifting into mild disbelief as she turned toward him.
Luken, still dragging his staff, just exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
Thal didn't react at first. He just kept walking. His shortened hair still covered part of his eyes, the remnants of his once thick beard completely gone. His exposed skin, still raw from the fire, looked eerily untouched despite the wounds he had sustained.
Valen, undeterred, pressed on.
"I mean, really. It's a bold look. Rugged. Definitely makes you look younger," he mused, a grin creeping onto his face. "Or maybe more menacing. Hard to say."
Thal finally glanced at him, his golden eyes unreadable beneath his newly shortened hair. "…It'll grow back."
Valen smirked. "Shame. I was going to suggest keeping it. You're starting to look less like a myth and more like someone who could rob a noble in an alleyway."
Nyra snorted, shaking her head.
Thal simply grunted.
Luken sighed. "Valen, do you ever shut up?"
"Would you rather we walk in complete silence like we're marching to our deaths?" Valen shot back. "Because frankly, that's what this feels like right now."
Luken didn't argue. He was too tired to.
Tar, walking just behind them, let out a deep huff, clearly unamused by the conversation.
Valen grinned. "See? Even Tar agrees. He thinks Thal should keep the look."
Nyra smirked, finally speaking. "If Tar ever starts agreeing with you, Valen, we should all be worried."
Valen placed a mock hand over his chest. "That hurts, Nyra. Truly. After everything we've been through."
Thal, despite himself, exhaled through his nose in the closest thing to amusement. It wasn't much but in a night filled with horror, it was enough. They walked on, the weight of battle still pressing down on them, but the tension had eased even if just a little.
As they reached the cave, the tension finally settled.