Nyx hung completely weightless in mid-air, suspended within the violet-purple energy stream generated by Silarias. Her arms and legs dangled limply, looking for all the world like a marionette whose strings had been abruptly severed.
The landing that followed was far from graceful. Silarias eased his magical grip, allowing her to drop with a soft
plop
right onto the mirror-smooth surface of his trance realm. She wobbled slightly on her spiritual feet, pulling her jacket straight with a few quick, nervous jerks at the fabric.
At the massive wooden council table, the atmosphere flipped instantly into utter bewildered confusion. Freya, Frey, and Odr leaned in toward one another at the exact same moment. Their heads formed a tight circle as their eyes darted restlessly over Nyx. A soft, urgent whisper filled the quiet void.
"Is that... isn't that her?" Odr muttered, his eyes wide as he discreetly gestured in her direction.
Freya observed with a sharp, analytical gaze and gave a barely perceptible nod. "Told you so," she rubbed in softly, her voice hushed yet absolute in its conviction.
Before the whispering could go any further, the Bansaday Lion Warrior practically exploded with pure adrenaline. With a heavy thud that rattled the colossal table and sent ripples across the mirrored floor, he slammed his giant claw onto the timber. He threw his head back and let out a booming, roaring laugh that vibrated straight through marrow and bone.
"Hahaha! What an entrance! Young lady, who in the blazes are you?!"
Nyx recovered her royal composure in a single breath. She smoothed her hands neatly along her sides to press down her clothes, lifted her chin, and looked the giant lion warrior straight in his fiery eyes. Her voice rang out clear and unyielding through the realm.
"I am Nyx Mawu-lisa. My father is the King of the Timekeepers. And my mother is the framed Goddess of the Moon."
At the far end of the table, Lucifer brought his slender hands together slowly. The dry, rhythmic sound of his clapping immediately drew everyone's focus.
"A marvelous blend, haha," he offered with an amused, friendly spark in his eyes.
The Bansaday lion warrior leaned back in his massive chair as recognition washed over his rugged features. "Ah... the Moon Queen..." he rumbled softly, his deep voice suddenly turning warm and steeped in nostalgia.
Right on cue, Odr’s triumphant voice boomed across the background: "I TOLD YOU SO!"
A dull thud immediately followed. Freya had planted her boot with full force straight onto Odr’s foot, forcing him to shut his mouth with a winced expression of pain.
"She was framed so terribly back then, wasn't she?" the Bansaday lion warrior continued, gently patting Nyx on the head with his massive claw as if she were a small child. "She was like family to me, you know that? Come, sit." He gestured toward one of the empty, newly manifested chairs.
Nyx took a firm step backward, refusing the seat with a sharp look. Scanning the entire table, she spoke with rising fire: "No, we have no time to lose. We are going to liberate this world. And we will always have each other's backs!"
The gathered gods and entities stared at her for a moment in silence, the sheer intensity of her words hanging heavy in the air. But without waiting for another response, Nyx walked over to the head of the table with complete, unbothered confidence. As if it were the most natural thing in the universe, she nimbly climbed onto Silarias's giant throne chair and nestled herself right beside him.
The sudden realization hit the gathered crowd like a lightning bolt. The sharp gazes softened, and a wave of understanding rippled through the circle.
"Ah, yes... the soulmate, haha," came an approving murmur from the side. "Our deepest respects!"
Nyx looked around in surprise as she watched Frey, Freya, Odr, and even the giant lion warrior offer a respectful, deep bow toward her from their seats.
Silarias, however, didn't let the formal tribute linger. Leaning forward, he rested his heavy forearms on the wood and cut through the ceremonial air with an icy, serious tone.
"Who was Kelayla? And who were the Beast Human Nomads?"
Silence fell back over the space, heavier than before. Nobody spoke, until the deep, demonic voice of Lucifer sliced through the void. With every word he uttered, the terrifying, raw sound morphed, softening until it carried a warm, human tone.
"You need to understand what kind of woman your mother was, Sil," Lucifer began calmly, his gaze locked onto the young warrior. "Her entire family possessed unique traits. Think of it like this: a specific race grants certain base traits. A mixed race yields different, far more complex traits. But when that mix is subjected to an extremely traumatizing moment, where one must live purely out of a profession just to survive... it birthed extraordinarily extreme traits. Because you were once nomads, she was capable of performing such unprecedented feats."
Lucifer leaned a bit closer, his voice soft yet piercing. "An absolute natural aptitude for understanding animals and magical creatures. The ability to bring pure tranquility and order... a true, profound peace. And her mobility... she could transport and teleport, literally appearing everywhere and nowhere in the blink of an eye. She bore many titles because of her genius: from Spiritwalker to Starbringer, and so many more. But that is information for another time; we will tell you when you are ready."
Frey and Freya interrupted the explanation with reassuring smiles directed at the duo on the throne. "Do not worry, Nyx. Everyone is rooting for you both. You have the support of every single one of us."
Silarias reached out to his side and firmly grasped Nyx's hand, curling his fingers tightly around hers. He leaned his head slightly toward her, muttering under his breath so the others couldn't hear: "Did you seriously pull this off on your very first try?"
Nyx looked at him with a mischievous glint in her eyes and whispered back instantly: "Nope, nope... third time!"
Silarias didn't twitch a single muscle. He abruptly changed the subject to protect his pride, making it abundantly clear he didn't want to dig any deeper into that right now. He faced the table once more.
"Can we please come back to this later?" He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the entities. "Thank you... I feel like I am getting closer to who I am. I couldn't have done this without you."
He made a motion to stand up and exit the trance realm with Nyx, but the voices around the table held him back one final time.
"Return with Nyx next time," came the clear instruction from the group. "We have plenty to tell BOTH of you."
With those final words, the darkness around them began to dissolve. The mirror-smooth water surface melted away, and the duo's consciousness was drawn smoothly back toward reality.
In the sleeping quarters of the Bastion, Nyx's eyes snapped open. Her physical body—which up until a second ago had been sprawled across the sheets like a derpy ragdoll—shot upright with a burst of energy. She bounced on the mattress, completely hyped, a giant grin plastered across her face.
"I pulled it off way faster than you!" she cheered happily, throwing a triumphant fist into the air.
Silarias opened his eyes calmly, let out a deep exhale, and looked at her from the edge of the bed. A faint smile touched his lips. "Yeah, Nyx, you're right. Really well done. I was honestly a little jealous for a second, haha... But I wouldn't expect anything less from you. Come on, let's get some sleep."
Nyx was completely disarmed by the compliment. Her triumphant posturing melted away, and like a satisfied child, she eagerly hopped under the heavy covers, snuggled up close beside him, and drifted into a deep, motionless sleep almost instantly. Silarias closed his eyes shortly after as the Bastion settled into absolute quiet.
Outside the walls of the Bastion, the night felt serene, almost sacred in its stillness. The moon cast long silver bands across the sleeping guard towers and the smooth stone facades, making it seem as if time itself had decided to pause. The wind blew softly through the leaves of the nearby forests, a gentle rustle that lulled the sentries on the ramparts to sleep.
Yet deep within the shadows, there was a far different rhythm.
The Berserker plowed through the wilderness. He was a remnant of a forgotten era, a prehistoric giant whose skin was marked by the jagged scars of a life lived in a raw, untamed world. His heavy, muscular frame felt alien in this new environment.
He stopped abruptly beside a narrow stream. His eyes, which had known only the pitch-black of caves and the blood of the hunt, stared in bewildered fascination at a shimmering dragonfly dancing before his nose. He extended a massive, rough claw to touch the fragile creature, his face contorting into a rare, almost childish smile of pure wonder. He caught the faint, sweet chirping of a chick in a nearby nest and tilted his colossal head to observe it, captivated by a quiet beauty he had never noticed in his own time.
Then, as if an icy hand had squeezed his very soul, everything shattered.
The Curse of M flared violently through his bloodstream, a burning, suffocating agony that seized his heart. His smile died in a grimace of pure pain. The softness in his eyes vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by a bloodshot, mindless haze.
The curse showed no mercy, no appreciation for beauty, no rest. The Berserker shuddered, his whole body contorting as the invisible chains of M commandeered his muscles once more. Blinded by an untamed, restless urge to move, the world's beauty was swallowed whole by the darkness of his directive.
He began to run.
His movements were no longer those of an explorer, but those of a wrecking ball. With heavy, prehistoric strides, he charged through muddy ravines and over treacherous rock faces. He didn't avoid obstacles; he pulverized them. Trees standing in his path were shoved aside by his broad shoulders like mere twigs. His breath rattled heavy and erratic, a harsh, grating sound like a saw cutting through stone.
Mile after mile, he pushed forward with a mechanical, tireless drive. He needed no sleep, no rest. He was impelled by a purpose so black and absolute that it seemed to taint the air around him. A relic of the primal age, wielded as a weapon in a world he didn't comprehend and which offered him no quarter.
Exactly one day remained. A single day of uninterrupted travel separated him from his target.
As he bounded through a narrow pass between two looming cliffs, he threw his head back. His eyes, glowing with a pale, lifeless light in the dark, locked onto the distant contours of the Bastion. He knew where they were. The Curse of M yanked at his tendons, a excruciating reminder of the task he had to complete.
He tightened his grip on his weapon, the muscles in his arms bulging until they nearly tore from the raw tension. The serene silence of the night was slowly, inevitably replaced by the heavy, ominous thud of his approach.
Inside the walls of the Bastion, the silence of the innocent prevailed. Nyx and Silarias lay in a deep, peaceful slumber, dreaming of answers and a future they would build together.
But high above their heads, unseen by the guards and ignored by the stars, fate drew a dark line across the map. The Berserker, a prisoner to his own curse and his own terrifying strength, was closing in fast. Morning would come, but the world they knew had already begun to crumble beneath the footsteps of the caveman who could find no rest.