The warmth of the fire and the gentle clinking of cutlery created a fragile sense of calm. Nyxia lounged on the bed, wrapped in blankets, one leg elevated and bruised. Draj sat cross-legged near the fire, quietly tending to a blade with a whetstone. Perseus leaned back in a worn wooden chair, half-eaten stew in his lap, eyes flicking between the other two warily.
Then—
SLAM.
The door burst open with a thunderous crash.
Boo stumbled inside, breath ragged, hair windblown and cheeks flushed red from the cold. She didn't even glance around—her hands immediately went to the bolt and slammed it shut, locking it behind her before backing away as if something might still come through it.
"Gods—fuck—he was there," she gasped.
Perseus and Draj shot to their feet in unison. Nyxia tried to sit up but flinched, clutching her ribs with a low hiss.
"Boo?" Nyxia called, her voice sharp. "What are you—"
Boo whirled around, eyes wide. "It was him. The man at the counter—the one who gave me your money. It was him. That hooded guy's name is Arioch."
The room went cold.
Perseus looked between them, confused but instantly alert. "Who the hell is Arioch?"
Nyxia's face paled visibly, tension flooding her limbs even through the pain. "Void-touched. Dangerous. Manipulative as hell."
"Strong, too, think he runs this place." Boo added quickly, pacing now, clutching the pouch of coin in one hand like it might burn her. "His eyes—Nyx, his eyes were like a vortex. He knew exactly who you were. Told me to tell you how proud he was. Said you did 'so, so well.'"
Nyxia's lips parted slightly, a quiet exhale slipping free. Her voice was hoarse.
"…he was watching?"
Boo nodded, still pacing. "The way he said it—like he felt what you were doing in the pit. He offered you a permanent position. A full-time fighter."
Draj swore under his breath. Perseus's jaw clenched.
"He's not just interested," Boo said, halting in front of Nyxia, her voice shaking slightly. "He's invested."
Nyxia stared at the fire for a long moment, her brow furrowed, jaw tight.
Loque'nahak growled low from the corner, pacing in a tight circle, fur bristling. The bond between hunter and beast crackled with tension again.
Perseus finally spoke, voice a low growl. "What exactly did you all get mixed up in while I was gone?"
Nyxia didn't answer right away. She just leaned back against the pillows, eyes heavy.
Then she muttered, dryly, "If I had known I'd have to deal with this and my ribs being half cracked, I'd have charged him double."
Draj chuckled once, nervous.
No one else laughed.
The fire crackled. The inn room felt suddenly much smaller, like the walls had crept inward. Boo dropped the coin pouch onto the table with a heavy clunk, still visibly shaken. Draj moved to the window and pulled the curtain tight. Perseus stood nearby, arms folded, watching everyone like he expected the walls to start bleeding next.
Nyxia had gone still.
Too still.
Her expression, once strained with pain and amusement, now slackened into something else. Something distant. Her glowing, black-sheened eyes didn't seem to focus on anything in the room.
"…Nyx?" Boo asked gently.
No response.
Loque'nahak padded closer, his spectral fur bristling, muscles rippling with agitation. The great beast's eyes narrowed. He let out a low growl—not aggressive, but insistent—and bumped his forehead into Nyxia's shoulder. Hard.
She blinked slowly. A pause. Then, finally, her eyes turned toward him—but still… distant.
Perseus was the first to really notice.
"She's not here," he said, quietly but firmly. "Something's wrong."
Nyxia's body flinched, subtly, like something cold had brushed against her skin.
Inside her mind, a whisper slithered through the darkness like smoke curling around old bones:
"It isn't their choice, little shadow. You felt it, didn't you? The pull of the crowd. The power. The way they roared for you, the coins raining like adoration."
Nyxia's hands twitched, gripping the blanket.
"They fear what they don't understand. But I saw your potential. Felt it. And you—you loved it."
Loque's voice—raw and worried—cut into her mind like claws against stone.
"Nyxia. Come back. Focus."
She groaned, a hand going to her temple.
"Stop talking all at once," she muttered aloud, and they all froze.
"Who's talking?" Boo asked, voice tight.
Nyxia looked up. Her voice was hoarse. "He's in my head."
"Arioch," Perseus snarled.
Outside, wind howled, as if answering the name.
Nyxia's lips parted again. Her eyes flicked toward the far corner of the room, the shadows where the firelight didn't quite reach. Her voice dropped to a breath:
"…I can feel him."
"You know where to find me," Arioch whispered from within her mind. "Say the word, and you'll never have to scrape and scrounge again. You'll be worshiped, adorned in gold, not pitied. They'll chant your name… until the stars burn out."
A rush of emotion surged in her chest. Excitement? Fear? Both?
"Get out," Nyxia hissed through gritted teeth.
"I will. For now. But you'll come back to me, little storm."
And just like that—
The pressure vanished.
Nyxia slumped forward, breath trembling as if she'd just resurfaced from drowning.
Loque let out a rumbling growl, head pressed against her side protectively.
"Are you with us?" Draj asked softly.
She looked up, eyes clearer now, but rimmed in shadow. "Yeah," she said, voice cracking. "He's gone."
Perseus, tense as a drawn bowstring, gave a sharp nod and stepped closer. "We'll find a way to keep him out. Whatever it takes."
Nyxia, still catching her breath, gave a broken laugh. "Sure. Just make sure we don't run out of coin first. Fame is expensive."
No one laughed this time either.
The room was silent. The fire had burned low, embers glowing like fallen stars in the hearth. Boo slept curled on a cot across the room, her bow within arm's reach. Draj lay on a mat, one arm resting loosely over his chest, rising and falling with even breath. Perseus was sprawled near the door like a barrier, one hand still gripping the hilt of his sword even in sleep. Loque lay curled protectively at the base of Nyxia's bed, ears twitching with each creak of the old inn's floorboards.
And Nyxia?
She couldn't sleep.
Her mind churned, shadows dancing behind her eyes every time they closed. That pull… that rush in the ring… the way the void sang to her bones—
The air changed.
She felt it before she saw it. A sharp chill, sudden and wrong.
Above her bed, space bent—folded in on itself like fabric—and tore open
with a whispering sound that clawed at her sanity. A shimmering black void tore itself into existence, leaking cold and shadow like black ink in water.
She sat up, heart hammering.
And then he stepped through.
Arioch.
Dripping in void energy like it was spun silk, his form coalesced with elegance unnatural for something so wrong. He was barefoot, shirtless beneath a deep indigo robe with silver thread curling along its edges like constellations. His inky hair drifted as if underwater, threaded with star-like shimmers that pulsed softly in time with his breath.
His eyes glowed—two dying stars swirling with secrets no mortal should ever know.
And yet, Nyxia couldn't look away.
She should have screamed. Woken the others. Reached for her polearm.
Instead… she watched, breathless, as he moved.
With graceful ease, Arioch sat on the edge of her bed like they were old friends sharing secrets at midnight. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of silver hair from her face with one long, elegant finger. His touch was cold… but it burned.
"You poor thing," he whispered, voice like velvet dipped in poison. "No one ever told you how beautiful you are when you're bleeding."
Nyxia's lips parted, but no words came. She hated him. She should hate him. And yet her body betrayed her with stillness, with breath held hostage by his presence.
He tilted his head.
"They'll never understand you," he said, glancing toward Boo, Draj, Perseus. "You shine too brightly for them. All that power, and they treat you like a broken thing. Weak. Reckless." He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over her cheek. "But I see you. I see the storm behind your eyes."
Loque stirred, growling low—but he couldn't move, caught in an invisible stasis just outside the bed's aura.
Nyxia's voice cracked as she finally spoke. "What do you want?"
Arioch smiled.
"A heart-to-heart," he said simply. "You felt it, didn't you? The crowd. The blood. The way the void amplified everything inside you. That wasn't chaos, my darling. That was clarity."
She looked away, trying to breathe past the pressure in her chest.
He followed her gaze, his tone deepening.
"You must fight tomorrow," he said, suddenly serious. "There's someone I want you to meet. Someone important. Someone who can open every door you've ever wanted to walk through. But they'll only be watching tomorrow. One chance, little storm."
He glanced again at her slumbering companions.
"Don't let them pull you away from your future. They'll only ever see you as something to fix. But I…" he smiled, almost fondly. "I see what you truly are. A weapon. A queen in exile."
He stood, the shadows already beginning to swirl around him again.
"Sleep well, Nyxia," he murmured. "You'll need your strength."
And with that, the void tore open again—and he was gone.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Loque let out a hoarse, strangled growl as the stasis broke, surging forward and placing his head in Nyxia's lap, his eyes full of anguish.
She clutched his fur, fingers trembling.
She couldn't stop shaking.
And yet, even as fear and confusion warred within her chest…
She wanted to fight again.