Dax enjoyed the quiet night with Nadia under the beautiful starry sky. The vast canopy above glittered with countless points of light sharp, cold, and endless.
Each star seed pinned in place, unblinking, casting faint silver glows across the treetops. A soft breeze moved steadily through the woods, carrying the clean scent of pine needles mixed with the distant, fresh trace of running water.
Leaves rustled overhead in gentle waves, a low whisper that filled the silence without breaking it.
Around them, creatures crept into their hidden abodes. Small nocturnal animals—mice with twitching whiskers, owls gliding on silent wings—slipped between roots and branches, vanishing into burrows and hollows. Shadows shifted between trunks, eyes glinting briefly like coins in moonlight before disappearing. Yet the creatures closer to Dax watched from the edges—larger shapes, hulking silhouettes with glowing amber or crimson eyes—never daring to approach. They stayed at a respectful distance, silent sentinels in the dark, bodies low to the ground, breaths held as though the air itself belonged to him.
Nadia watched with awe. Night ti was the worst ti to be in the woods—predators hunted without rcy, visibility dropped to almost nothing, and every snapped twig or distant howl felt like a promise of death. But here, under Dax's presence, the forest felt calm, almost reverent. The usual tension in the air had vanished; even the wind seed to move more carefully.
How did he beco this powerful? The question circled in her mind like a persistent shadow. I've felt strong auras before—mages who could bend storms, warriors who split mountains—but this is different. The forest doesn't just respect him; it obeys. The beasts don't run or fight; they wait. Like they know crossing him ans erasure. Like they sense sothing ancient inside him, sothing that predates even the gods' rules. How does soone carry that kind of weight and still look so… peaceful under the stars?
"Mast—" She caught herself and shook her head quickly. "Dax… the team about your past and your enmity with the Blood River. I'm sorry for adding my burdens unto you."
She tucked her head in, chin dropping to her chest, voice small and hesitant.
Why did I say it out loud? she thought, a flush of sha warming her cheeks. He's already buried under grudges, dead families, stolen talent and mother. The Blood River isn't just his enemy—it's his scar. And here I am, piling my own pain on him like it matters as much. Selfish. He saved my life without asking for anything, and I repay him by dragging old blood into this quiet night. I should have kept silent.
Dax reached over and rubbed her head affectionately—gentle fingers moving through her hair in slow, soothing strokes. The touch was light but steady, comforting without demand.
"It was inevitable from the mont I rescued your grandparents. So don't bla yourself."
Nadia leaned into the touch, closing her eyes for a mont. The warmth of his hand felt grounding, safe, like an anchor in the vast dark.
He says it so simply. Inevitable. As if saving two strangers was just another thread in a tapestry he couldn't escape. But I know better. Choices like that aren't accidents—not for soone like him. He chose to step in. And now I'm part of that choice, whether I deserve it or not. It makes the guilt heavier, sohow.
Then she opened her eyes and gazed at him again. "Grandparents? Grandpa Micah is all I have."
Hearing her words, Dax smiled—soft, knowing, the expression reaching his eyes for the first ti that night.
"You need to speak to Micah on that matter."
Grandparents? The word struck her like a hidden blade. Grandpa never ntioned anyone else. Not once. All my life it's been just him and —stories by the fire, lessons in secret, the two of us against the world.
He paused, letting the words settle.
"I sense deep wrath in you," he continued, "but it's not that of finality. I advise you: make up your mind, or let the rage inside you kill you."
Dax changed the topic smoothly, his tone turning serious—low, steady, without judgnt or pressure.
He sees straight through . Nadia's throat tightened. The anger I've carried since childhood—every story Micah told about the Blood River, every hidden scar he tried to conceal—it's been my fuel. I thought I controlled it. I thought I could sharpen it into a weapon. But Dax is right. It's not clean fire; it's slow poison. If I don't decide what to do with it—forge it or release it—it will decide for . And I'll be hollow long before I ever face them.
"In this world there are many things that restrict life. The strongest restriction is the power of the gods. It's useless directing my anger at him. Unlike , you are different."
Nadia looked down at her hands, fingers curling slightly. "You have limited yourself with your mind. But it's definitely sothing that we can work on."
He believes I can change it. Not just survive it—break free. The thought felt like standing on the edge of a cliff: exhilarating, terrifying. What if I let go of the hate and nothing remains? What if the rage was the only thing that kept from falling apart? But what if he's right, and holding it is the real cage?
Dax gazed at the glossy star garnts of the night sky one last ti—silver threads woven across black velvet, infinite and untouched. Then he floated upward under the night sky, back toward his base. Nadia followed without a word, the two of them rising silently into the dark. The forest fell away below them, trees shrinking to dark smudges, stars growing brighter as they ascended.
He carries his anger differently, she realized, watching his calm silhouette against the stars. It's there—I can almost taste it, sharp and cold—but it doesn't own him. He owns it. Maybe that's the difference between us. Maybe that's why he can look at the sky like it owes him nothing… while I still feel like it owes everything.
The next morning, before the sun had co up, the Wyvern Squad was already set. They stood in a loose circle near the fortress gates, armor adjusted, weapons checked and double-checked, lenses glowing faintly in the pre-dawn gray. The air was cool and still, carrying the sharp sll of dew on stone and the faint smoke from dying campfires. Low voices murmured among them—tense, but focused, each word weighted by what lay ahead.
"Captain must really want to kill us?" Anastas scratched his head as if he was going crazy, fingers raking through his hair in frustration.
"Though he exaggerated it, this mission is indeed insane," Zain said. The team agreed with nods—quick, shared glances that said they all felt the sa weight pressing on their chests.
"But I believe he wouldn't give us missions we are incapable of. The lenses increase our survivability—as you have seen in our training."
"It is truly sothing unseen to this world. You all said his space was like a heaven for these machines." Hanna pointed at the small aid bots hovering nearby, their surfaces gleaming softly in the dim light, silent and watchful.
She manifested a fireball in her palm. The next mont, under her gaze, the flas were covered in labels and code—lines of data scrolling across the fire like holographic overlays. Numbers ticked upward: temperature, energy output, stability, burn rate. All calculated instantly, precise and rciless.
"Like, give us a break," she sighed, letting the fireball wink out with a soft pop.
"To , he is doing all for the clan. He has generational hatred in us due to the evil Blood River. Each of us has lost sothing—and he is no exception."
"We are going against the forces of a god. Only power can prevail in this war. And Dax is the anomaly this world is not prepared for."
Mimi's voice was gentle but her ssage was powerful. She continued to feed her beast—small pieces of at tossed from her hand, the creature catching them mid-air with precise snaps of sharp teeth.
The team looked at her with awe—eyes wide, mouths slightly open.
"Have you noticed it? She is different," Anastas nodded slowly.
"I don't see any difference though," Zain strained his eyes, squinting at her from different angles, head tilting left then right.
In a breath, Cain and Little Purple descended from above with dax.
"Are we set?"
They all nodded simultaneously—sharp, unified, no hesitation.
"Then we will be departing."
User Comments
0 comments from readers