Steam filled the stale air of the cave. The warmth clung to the stone walls, mixing with the heavy, laboured breaths of an exhausted Aethon. He lay flat on his back, staring up at the cave ceiling. For several moments, he simply breathed. Then, with a tired grin, he spoke.
"You are something else."
He lifted his head slightly. His eyes settled upon the green-haired knight standing nearby. Verdure's face remained gentle yet stoic, her expression giving away little of what she was thinking. The contrast between them was almost comical. Aethon looked utterly spent. His red hair was soaked with sweat, his chest rising and falling heavily after their prolonged fight. Verdure, meanwhile, looked completely composed. She was breathing steadily, her posture relaxed, her armour still sitting neatly upon her body. She looked as though she had barely participated in the battle.
"You are definitely stronger than the boy," she said. Her eyes drifted towards a scratch on her breastplate. "Not as scary, though." She inspected the damage for another moment. "Scary nonetheless."
"What?"
"It's nothing."
Verdure brushed the thought aside. She looked back at him.
"Tell me, are you human?"
Aethon's tired expression immediately shifted into amusement.
"Are you asking about my race because you're worried about compatibility?"
Verdure sighed.
"No."
Aethon laughed.
"Fair enough."
He rested his head against the stone.
"I've been told I have traces of it, though. From my father's side."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"He was pretty emo, that guy."
He shrugged.
"I can't blame him. My mother lost all her life force giving birth to me."
Verdure's expression softened.
"I'm sorry."
Aethon gave a small, almost humourless laugh.
"Why?"
He looked up at her.
"My father always said my birth took the life of a warrior." His expression became more reflective. "He said that wasn't something to mourn. It was something to celebrate."
He slowly sat upright.
"He told me stories about her throughout my entire life."
A small smile returned.
"She apparently had a long, joyful life."
Verdure remained silent, allowing him to continue.
"Then, one day, about four or five years ago, he told me about his own life."
Aethon chuckled.
"And my siblings."
He shook his head.
"He's pretty old."
His smile faded slightly.
"He told me that every time he had a child, a mother would be lost. He eventually started to believe he was cursed."
Aethon's gaze lowered.
"And yet..."
"There was always another woman who would come along. She would know the risks. And she'd still choose to have his child."
He paused.
"That was the last conversation I ever had with him."
Verdure slowly walked towards him. She knelt beside him.
"Why are you telling me this?"
Aethon considered the question.
"I don't know."
He looked at her.
"I guess it's something about the way you fought."
His expression became sincere.
"Beautiful. Graceful. Energetic, but controlled. I could tell how disciplined you are just from the way you moved."
He smiled.
"And how much you were holding back."
He shrugged.
"So I guess I trust you a little."
A pause.
"Just a little."
Verdure laughed. A genuine laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
"Wow, boy would love to see that more often."
A faint red blush spread across her face. She immediately pulled away.
Standing, she turned towards the pieces of her armour and began collecting them.
"We're leaving."
Aethon watched her for a moment. Then he let his head fall back against the cave floor.
"I need a minute."
--------------
"Tema! Where are you? Come out!"
Tearful and trembling, Terrene knelt in one of the lodge's rooms, overwhelmed by fear, confusion, and grief. Her new nails—longer and sharper than before—dug through her scales and pierced the skin beneath, drawing thin beads of blood.
Kushi's large arms suddenly wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight yet gentle embrace.
"Hey, hey," she whispered. "You don't know me, but I'm here for you."
The two remained like that for hours, until Terrene finally fell asleep. After putting her to bed, Kushi went to check on Myles and Lia, hoping they had managed to hash things out.
She knocked on their door and walked in.
Kushi froze at the sight before her. Lia was straddling Myles, her knees planted on either side of his waist. Her face hovered mere inches from his, and both of them were breathing heavily. Lia glanced back at Kushi with a scowl.
"You didn't wait for us to tell you to come in."
"How could she possibly have expected this?" a flustered Myles retorted from beneath her, his wrists straining against Lia's iron grip. "What has gotten into you?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the strength vanished from Kushi's legs. Her face turned beet-purple, and sweat trickled down her forehead. Her breathing became shallow and loud. Then, as though possessed, she abruptly straightened and slammed the door shut behind her.
Myles stared in terror as Lia turned her gaze back to him. A strange purple glint shimmered in her eyes, and somehow, despite her intensity, she looked lost.
Kushi's toned arms suddenly reached between Lia's legs. She tore the bandages from Myles's chest, then ripped away the cloth covering Lia — and then her own.
Myles yelped and squeezed his eyes shut.
A warm, familiar sensation washed over his body. It was certainly not what he had expected. When he opened his eyes again, he saw him.
It was the same man from that day, surrounded by the same tranquil darkness—an endless expanse of nothingness illuminated by light that seemed to have no source. It was the man he had seen on the day Lia was burned.
The figure approached Myles slowly, his footsteps soundless against the void. His mouth moved.
"She has grown impatient. I commend your will."
He smiled.
Suddenly, the darkness gave way beneath Myles, and he plummeted into the nothingness.
He awoke to find both girls lying unconscious on the bed, seemingly unharmed. Their chests, however, were still bare. Myles quickly turned away, picked up the blanket from the floor, and tossed it over them.
Somehow, he had escaped their hungry attack.
He shuddered and walked out of the room. Something told him to check on Terrene, so he did.
Terrene seemed timid and emotionally volatile—the complete opposite of the impression he had formed of her before. Her face showed signs of prolonged crying, and at first, she refused to speak. Instead, she clung tightly to him like a lost child.
After several hours, she finally broke her silence.
"Tema. It's Tema," she said quietly. "When I fall asleep, he's usually there with me in my dreams. We talk and goof around inside my head."
She touched one of her horns thoughtfully.
"I can still feel him, but I can't hear him anymore."
Her voice broke near the end of the sentence.
An image of a formless, horned being flashed through Myles's mind.
Could I have destroyed Tema? he wondered, beads of cold sweat suddenly trailing down his spine.
No. Tema is part of her. That thing was an evil leech. It wasn't Tema—it was something else.
Only then did Myles's attention settle fully on Terrene's altered appearance. She was taller and fiercer-looking, yet somehow still just as cute—perhaps even cuter.
Catching himself before his thoughts drifted further, he pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long sigh, his mind briefly touching on Kaelen.
"Can you stand up for a second?"
Terrene looked confused, but she complied, pushing herself off the bed. "Umm...?"
Myles closed his eyes and concentrated. There it was again: a pair of eyes similar to hers, staring with such intensity that Terrene instinctively felt the need to cover herself. They remained wide open for far longer than was comfortable.
After ten silent minutes, Myles took hold of her arm and pushed Criole through it.
Suddenly, Terrene could see what he saw.
The experience was every bit as overwhelming as her own vision, yet somehow more focused and deliberate. She could see the familiar lines—and, for the first time, the surface of her own skin.
"Do you see it?" Myles asked, noticing the sudden change in her expression.
"Yes. It's beautiful." Terrene sighed with delight. "I love its brown colour."
"What?"
"My skin," she replied without thinking.
Myles adjusted the focus of his vision, directing her attention toward the lines flowing beneath and around her skin.
"There's more than one source. Look."
Apart from himself, Terrene was the only person he knew who possessed more than one. Even Kaelen appeared to have only one, although it looked as though it had fused with something—or someone—else.
"Is that...?"
"That's what he has always looked like to me," Myles explained softly. "I haven't always had this level of sight, but... well, you know."
"No, I don't know."
Myles sighed. "It doesn't matter. Right now, the paths are fused with yours, so all you need to do is shift one. With your level of control, it should be—"
Terrene pulled her hand away before he could finish.
She did exactly as he had instructed. Her horns shrank but did not disappear, and the other changes followed. Even her height gradually returned to normal.
Then Tema appeared.
He was larger and fluffier than before, now roughly the size of a dog.
Terrene immediately threw herself onto him, smothering him in an enthusiastic embrace. Then she turned toward Myles and leapt onto him as well, locking her arms and legs around his body. She planted kisses on every patch of exposed skin her mouth could reach.
"I love you."
The second the words left her mouth, the manic joy vanished. Terrene instantly sobered up, scrambled off him with a beet-red face, and bowed her head, apologising in her usual flat, monotone voice.