"We've got all the time in the world to get to know each other, don't we?" Erenyx said, settling down in front of the sealed Ilvya. "So... tell me, why do you hate my dad?"
The words that followed would be forgotten — erased from memory, remembered by only one.
Caelus collapsed to the floor, breath ragged and shallow. His troll-like skin clung tight to his frail frame, the years of burden finally catching up to him. Orion stood over him, his expression carved in indifference.
"What, Neriah didn't bless you with enough power this time?" he scoffed, turning away. "Call me when the girl wakes up. I'm not wasting my time with you or Neriah's bullshit anymore."
And with that, Orion dissolved into lightning and was gone.
Caelus coughed — a deep, heavy sound — splattering blood onto the frozen floor. "I seem to have lost my light..." he muttered. Still, he tried to rise, trembling with each movement. "I've come far enough, I suppose. These past years were good enough for me..." His strength gave out, and he collapsed beside his unconscious daughter, finally slipping into silence.
Hours passed before one of them stirred.
Erenyx awoke slowly, her head pounding, her vision hazy. The air was cold, heavy — then she saw him.
"Dad!" she cried, rushing to his side, ignoring her own pain. She lifted him into her arms, desperate. "Dad, please! What happened!?"
Caelus' eyes fluttered open, dim and distant. He raised a trembling hand, brushing her cheek.
"Erenyx..." he whispered, "I'm so sorry..."
She held his hand tight, tears already forming. "Please, just tell me what's going on!"
"My eyes... they've gone dim on me," he said softly. His tone was tender, fragile, no longer carried through thought, but spoken aloud — human. "But I've seen enough. I've watched you grow... and I want for nothing more."
Erenyx broke, her tears falling freely.
"ORION!" she screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of panic. "PLEASE! ORION!"
She called again, louder, desperate. "ORIONNN!"
But no answer came. Only silence — and the room began to grow colder. Each tear froze where it fell, the frost creeping across the ground like ghostly veins.
"Dad..." her voice trembled, "what can I do... please..."
"Fear not, my child," Caelus murmured, his tone gentle even through exhaustion. "Living without sight... it's no detriment to me. I only ask one thing of you — forgive my brother. Do not carry hatred in your heart for what he couldn't do."
Erenyx shook her head, clutching him tighter. "He told me... if I ever needed him, all I had to do was shout. And he still left us. He left you like this..."
"It is no fault of his own," Caelus whispered, his once-crimson eyes now fading to a muted red. "Bear no hatred toward the boy... that is all I can ask of you."
Hours passed. Even without his vision, Caelus' experience carried him — each motion deliberate, steady. He checked over Erenyx again and again: her chi purity, the balance between both souls, the pulse of energy within her veins. Nothing seemed alarming.
Still, he couldn't shake the disbelief — Ilvya, the Ice Witch herself, submitting to anyone... let alone the daughter of her enemy.
With a long exhale, Caelus leaned back against the wall. "Mimicry Cloud... Mind Flayer."
A faint ripple shimmered through the air as his consciousness linked with Orion's.
"What," came Orion's voice, cold and sharp.
"No signs of disturbance in her chi or soul," Caelus replied quietly. "But... I paid a price."
A distant rumble echoed through the link — explosions, lightning strikes — Orion was clearly in the middle of something. "And that price was?" he asked.
"At least tell me you're not blowing up half of Conravia," Caelus said with a faint smirk. "But... I've lost the light in my eyes. I can no longer see."
There was a pause, followed by a low chuckle. "Maybe that's what you deserve after all those dealings with that devil. How's the girl holding up?"
Caelus sighed, covering his face with a trembling hand. "She... she's lost all knowledge of her binding with Ilvya's soul."
Orion stopped — the faint static in the link flickered. "What? How's that even possible?"
"I don't know," Caelus admitted. His tone softened. "If you decide to return, check for yourself."
A sharp tch clicked through the link, then silence.
Orion had cut the connection.
...
Orion held up his hand. "Try the technique I taught you."
Erenyx tilted her head, but followed his instruction. A quick flash of lightning rippled across her joints before her fist snapped cleanly against his palm.
"Okay, okay," Orion said, shaking out his hand with a grin. "You've even improved on it a little, I see. Not even I can make it that precise — only channeling it through the joints."
Erenyx smiled, proud, while Caelus looked on from the wall with a faint warmth in his tired blind eyes. But Orion's expression shifted slightly. Behind that smile, his thoughts were racing. She remembers everything from before the merger... yet the name Ilvya doesn't even register. We've told her stories — dozens of times. Something's wrong. Horribly wrong.
"Hey, Erenyx," Orion said casually, "remind me — what elements are you most proficient in again?"
She put a hand to her chin. "Lightning's my strongest, but I'm comfortable with wind and water. Why?"
Orion paused, eyes narrowing. "Ever tried combining the two?"
Erenyx blinked in surprise. "You two always told me that was too dangerous to mess around with," she said skeptically.
"Well," Caelus said with a soft smirk, his voice low but proud, "I suppose we're giving you permission now... aren't I?