The night had not yet ended.
It had only dimmed into a heavy silence.
PP's lair — hidden deep beneath an ancient willow grove — glowed faintly with the shimmer of layered wards. Runes hummed in the air, brushing the skin like the hum of electricity. Inside, the wounded filled every corner: wolves stretched across makeshift cots, vampires pale against the candlelight, the scent of iron and herbs thick enough to taste.
Sky lay on one of the stone tables near the inner chamber, chest rising slow but steady. His skin had cooled to a faint silver sheen — faint traces of light pulsing under the surface like veins of molten moonlight. Felix worked quietly beside him, sleeves rolled up, fingers trembling not from fear but from sheer fatigue.
"He's stable," Felix murmured, his voice hoarse. "For now. The burn's internal, not consuming him anymore. The venom residue's finally neutralized."
Est, sitting nearby with bloodstained gauze and eyes wide from lack of sleep, let out a shaky breath. "What about—"
"Your Supreme?" PP interrupted softly from across the room. "That's... another matter."
Nani lay on a low dais surrounded by flickering wards — his body unmoving, half of his skin still blackened, the sigil carved into him pulsing faintly gold. Each pulse sent a shimmer of light through the room, like a heart trying to restart the world. PP's hands moved in elegant, precise motions over the wounds, weaving protection spells that hissed faintly as they touched the charred flesh.
Felix walked over, wiping his hands. "Can you fix him?"
PP glanced up — a look that was both irritated and deeply human. "You don't fix an immortal who's burned himself in the heart of a Guardian's light, dear boy. You just... keep him from falling apart."
He pressed a palm over Nani's heart; the glow dimmed, then steadied. "He took it all. The light, the curse, the pain. That's why your wolf still breathes."
Across the room, Est swallowed hard, eyes flicking toward Sky's still form. "Then—Nani could—"
"Die?" PP's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Even gods burn, sweetheart."
The tension in the air thickened. Wolves from the Blue Moon pack shifted uneasily, their alpha, Kazen, standing near the door with blood streaking his jaw. Beside him, Alpha Juno leaned against the wall, bandaged and pale. Both wolves had eyes on Sky, a mix of awe and reverence — the silent understanding that their lost Guardian had finally returned.
Then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor.
The air changed.
William entered first, flanked by a dozen vampire warriors in black and crimson coats. The instant they crossed the threshold, every wolf in the room bristled — growls rumbling low, nails scraping stone. The vampires responded in kind, eyes flashing, fangs sharp in the low light.
Kazen took a step forward, voice low and dangerous. "Why are they here?"
William didn't even flinch. His presence filled the chamber like shadow poured into shape — calm, cold, absolute. "Because this is still Supreme territory. And my lord lies bleeding here."
Juno snarled. "Or you just want to chain our Guardian!"
The wolves' growls deepened. The vampires tensed, hands twitching toward their blades. The faint hum of magic rippled as wards shivered under the pressure of their combined hostility.
Felix stepped between them with a weary groan. "Really? Now? After half the forest just exploded?"
He gestured at the rows of wounded. "There are dead things still smoldering out there, we've got one half-baked demigod on a slab, an unconscious Guardian, and two species playing who-growls-louder. Sit. Down."
No one moved.
PP finally sighed, flicking his fingers. A wave of shimmering energy pushed through the room, soft but irresistible — like a mother's hand forcing unruly children apart. "Enough," he said, his voice cutting through the growls like silk over steel. "My house is not a battlefield. You want to play war, do it outside my wards. Otherwise, breathe, darlings."
The tension broke with a few snarls and curses, but no one moved toward violence again.
William crossed to Nani's side, kneeling beside the dais. For the first time since his arrival, the stoic general's mask cracked. He touched the burned edge of his master's arm, jaw tight. "He shouldn't have been able to survive this."
PP arched an eyebrow. "He's not surviving. He's enduring."
Felix leaned against a pillar, eyes bloodshot but gleaming. "You're saying his healing's slowing."
"I'm saying his blood is fighting itself," PP replied. "The Guardian's light and the Supreme's curse — oil and fire trying to live in the same flame. It's a wonder the whole world didn't split open."
From across the room, Est murmured, "So what happens now?"
Everyone fell silent.
For a long moment, only the sound of distant wolves mourning in the forest filled the space.
Then Felix muttered, trying for levity and failing, "Well... I guess every supernatural faction's finally in one room. Wolf, vampire, witch, and whatever the hell PP is. Guess we're just missing a demon to complete the set."
PP gave him a sharp look.
The candles flickered. The wards shivered.
And from somewhere far beyond the lair, a low, unearthly sound rolled through the night — not quite a growl, not quite a breath. Something old. Something that had been waiting.
PP's face went still. "Careful what you wish for."
William stood, eyes narrowing. "What was that?"
"Something that shouldn't still exist." PP walked toward the wall, fingers trailing across the stone. Symbols flared briefly, revealing faint veins of blackened energy spreading like roots. "The summoner's still alive. But not whole."
Felix frowned. "You mean the one controlling the creatures?"
"Controlling?" PP's lips curled in distaste. "No, dear. Serving. The Mara's will is waking again — and whoever called it here has already begun to pay the price."
The room fell utterly still.
Est's hand shook. "Then who—"
PP looked up, his expression unreadable, eyes glinting with something too old to be simple fear. "Someone who once loved too much... and lost more than he could bear."
The wards trembled again, faint ripples running along the sigils like a breath through the room.
And somewhere deep within the shadows of the forest, a figure limped through the smoke — its silhouette burned, its face half hidden by a torn cloak. The faint gleam of silver eyes betrayed a wound too deep for any mortal.
He turned toward the direction of the lair.
A whisper escaped his lips — low, cracked, almost tender.
"Soon, my prince. You'll burn for me too."
---
A soft, stuttering gasp broke through the silence.
"—Sky!"
Felix was the first to reach him, a hand on his shoulder, but Sky was already sitting up — eyes wild, breath ragged. The faint silvery light under his skin flickered like dying embers. His gaze darted around the lair until it found him.
Nani.
Lying across the room, wrapped in the golden shimmer of wards, skin burned, motionless.
"Let me go," Sky whispered, voice barely sound. His feet hit the floor before Felix could stop him, knees almost buckling. "I have to—"
"Sky—wait," Felix grabbed his arm. "You can't—"
Sky twisted, slipping from his grasp with a strength born of panic. He stumbled forward, light flaring weakly around his hands. The scent of ash and blood filled the air.
William moved before Sky could reach the dais. The vampire's hand clamped around his wrist, firm but not cruel. "Don't," he said quietly. "You'll undo what's holding him together."
"Let me go!" Sky's voice cracked — half-growl, half-plea. His eyes blazed with a faint golden hue, tears pricking the edges. "He's burning— I can feel him—"
William didn't release him. The soldier in him didn't know how to soften, but his tone did. "He burned himself for you. If you touch that ward, you'll only hurt him more."
Sky struggled once, twice — then his strength failed him. He sagged against William's grip, breath shaking. "I didn't ask him to. I told him I could— I—"
The words broke off, strangled by guilt.
From across the room, PP's calm voice cut through the tension. "The bond between you two is volatile now. Guardian light and Supreme darkness— a beautiful disaster, really." He moved closer, hands folded in his robes. "If you go near him before his energy stabilizes, both of you might shatter what little balance is left."
Sky turned to him, eyes hollow but pleading. "Then tell me what I can do."
PP hesitated. The old mage's usual sharpness softened. "Sometimes, love is the cruelest medicine, dear heart. You do nothing but wait."
Sky shook his head. "No. Please."
His voice trembled, quiet as prayer. "Just... let me touch him. Once. Just his hand."
Felix's throat tightened. William's hold faltered just enough for Sky to slip past — this time not running, but walking, every step heavy, deliberate.
The closer he got, the more the ward shimmered, reacting to the pulse of his light. PP lifted a hand to steady the magic, murmuring an incantation that dimmed the edges just enough.
Sky knelt beside the dais.
Nani's hand — the unburned one — lay slack on the sheets. The skin was pale as porcelain, the veins faintly glowing gold where the guardian's light had fused with his blood.
Sky reached out, fingers trembling.
The moment his fingertips brushed Nani's, a pulse rippled through the room — faint, fragile, and heartbreakingly warm.
Nani didn't stir. But the sigil on his chest flickered once, as if responding to the touch.
Sky bowed his head, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. His voice came out a whisper, raw and small.
"I'm sorry..."
He pressed Nani's hand to his forehead, shaking. "You said you wouldn't let me die... but I can't keep watching you burn because of me."
Felix turned away, unable to bear it. Est's hand found his, squeezing tight.
"I was made to protect you," Sky whispered, words cracking apart. "That's all I've ever known, every time. Every life. But you— you keep saving me instead."
He looked up, eyes glistening under the faint blue of the wardlight. "What am I supposed to do with that, Nani?"
His thumb brushed over Nani's knuckles. No response. Only the faint hum of breath — shallow, but there.
Then, a flicker.
The sigil on Nani's wrist glowed faintly beneath Sky's touch, a single pulse of warmth that reached Sky's chest — the echo of a heartbeat that wasn't his. It hurt more than any wound.
Sky smiled through tears, the smallest, saddest thing.
"I'll wait," he whispered. "But don't make me wait too long, okay? I don't think I'd survive it."
He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Nani's hand, letting his tears fall there — drops of moonlight vanishing against burned skin.
The room was utterly still, save for the faint hum of intertwined energy between them.
Then PP, quietly, almost to himself, murmured,
"Even curses can love beautifully."