The night lay hushed beneath a veil of silver mist as Nyx and Nia stood at the threshold of the whispering forest. The trees murmured softly, leaves brushing against one another as if exchanging secrets older than the world itself. Moonlight filtered through the branches in fractured beams, turning the ground into a mosaic of shadow and pale light. Between them hung an unspoken understanding—fragile, dangerous, and intimate.
They were no longer simply companions bound by circumstance. What tied them now was something forged in loss and sharpened by survival. Fire and shadow. Hunger and devotion. Love born from ruin, and duty shaped by blood.
Nyx stood with his hands at his sides, posture still, almost regal. The faint red glow in his eyes pulsed subtly, like embers refusing to die. He was no longer the boy who had once chased immortality with reckless curiosity. Power had settled into him differently—quiet, deliberate, watchful. Every breath he took seemed measured, as though the world itself had become something he needed to calculate.
Nia watched him from beneath her cloak, its fabric catching the light like scattered starlight. She felt it—the gravity around him. Not merely attraction, not even love in its simplest form, but something heavier. A pull that bent her thoughts toward him, as if destiny itself had decided she belonged within his orbit.
"You've changed," she whispered at last.
Nyx turned slightly, just enough to look at her. A faint smile touched his lips, restrained and distant. "Maybe," he said calmly. "Or maybe I've just stopped pretending to be less than what I am."
His gaze shifted beyond the forest, toward the horizon where dark clouds gathered ominously above the sleeping volcano. Lightning flickered faintly within them, silent but threatening.
"Our next jewel lies there," he said. "The second Blood Jewel."
The words settled between them like a vow.
Their journey toward the volcano stretched long and unforgiving. The land grew hostile the farther they traveled—soil cracking beneath their boots, air thick with heat and sulfur. The wind carried the breath of magma, scorching and restless, and the ground trembled intermittently, as though the earth itself were uneasy at their passage.
Yet, despite the danger, there was a strange beauty to it all. Rivers of glowing lava traced distant paths through blackened rock like veins of fire. The sky burned with reds and deep violets as if permanently stained by flame.
For Nyx and Nia, each step forward was a reminder of how far they had already come. Once enemies. Once strangers bound by chaos and mistrust. Now something far more complicated—and far more fragile.
Silence followed them for a long time before Nia finally spoke.
"Nyx," she said quietly, "why didn't you ever tell me about the Blood Jewels before?"
He didn't answer immediately. His eyes remained fixed ahead, expression unreadable.
"Because I didn't trust anyone to know," he replied at last.
She frowned, the words striking deeper than she expected. "And now?" she asked, half-playful, half-wounded. "You do?"
He glanced at her then, really looked at her. "Yes," he said. "Because now, you're part of my purpose."
The sentence was simple, but it carried weight—far more than a declaration of love. Purpose was dangerous. Purpose demanded sacrifice.
When she pressed him about how he even knew of the jewels, his answer was immediate.
"Layola Island."
The name alone sent a chill through her. Legends clung to it like rot—of creatures that fed on fear, of sorcery that twisted the body and mind. "You went there?" she asked, stunned. "And faced the Mud Witch?"
A faint, almost humorless smile crossed his face. "You're looking at the one who lived."
The volcano greeted them like a waking god.
Its roar filled the air, low and constant, vibrating through bone and blood. Cracks split the obsidian-black rock beneath their feet, glowing with molten fire. Heat rolled outward in suffocating waves, and the sky above was permanently stained red, as if the land itself bled into the heavens.
Nyx stepped forward, raising his hand. The emerald glow of the first Blood Jewel pulsed in his palm, casting sharp light across his face.
"The next one is down there," he said calmly, gesturing toward the molten heart of the volcano.
Nia felt the heat bite into her skin immediately. "I'll get it," she said, pride flaring despite the danger.
Before she could move, Nyx placed a hand against her shoulder and pushed her gently back. Then, without hesitation, he leapt forward—straight into the molten glow.
"Nyx!" she screamed.
Her voice was swallowed instantly by the volcano's roar.
Seconds stretched painfully. The ground shook violently, as if the mountain itself were reacting. Then—fire parted.
Nyx rose from the heart of the lava, unharmed, his body wreathed in heat and light. In his hand was a crimson stone, pulsing like a living heart, its glow fierce and alive.
He landed beside her effortlessly.
"You shouldn't go near lava, Nia," he said, smirking faintly. "You'd make it erupt. Too much heat in one place."
She flushed, glaring at him, but the smile she tried to suppress betrayed her.
The journey home was quieter.
Stars watched from above like silent judges as they walked side by side. Nia found herself studying him—the way he moved, the confidence in his stride, the authority that now clung to him effortlessly. This was no longer a boy hesitating before fate. This was someone standing at the edge of legend.
And yet… behind it all, she saw the loneliness he refused to acknowledge.
When they reached home, exhaustion settled in quickly. Nia disappeared into the washroom, while Nyx sank into a chair, closing his eyes. The twin jewels pulsed beneath his skin, humming in unison.
"Five more," he whispered to himself.
Warm water washed over Nia, easing the ache from her muscles. She let her thoughts drift—about Nyx, about power, about the thin line between love and destiny.
Then she felt it.
A ripple in the air. A presence.
"Nyx?" she whispered.
No reply.
She shook it off, stepping out, towel wrapped tightly around her. The room was empty.
Then she turned back.
Nyx sat calmly in the tub, eyes closed, as if he had always been there.
"When did you get in?" she asked.
"I've been here the whole time," he replied softly.
Her confusion deepened. "Then who was watching me earlier?"
His lips curved slightly. "No one can touch you," he murmured. "Except me."
She splashed water at him. "You're impossible."
He caught her wrist gently, his expression softening. "Don't lose this," he whispered. "The world is burning. But here… you make it bearable."
Later, moonlight bathed the room as Nyx studied the Blood Jewels laid out before him.
"Do you ever wonder what happens after you find all seven?" Nia asked.
"I'll end the war," he said.
"And after that?"
He looked at her then. "Maybe I'll finally be free."
She placed her hand over his. "You're not alone."
For once, he let the armor crack.
Outside, the wind howled—a warning, ancient and relentless. Inside, there was only quiet, breathing, and two hearts steadying one another against the coming storm.
And in that fragile silence, love proved itself stronger than fire.