Nyxi's Arc

Chapter 1 of 8

Nyxi opened the Blood Priestess's eyes and looked up. The sky above was still full of stars. She felt the borrowed body settle around her hunger, a thin shell pulled tight over the old wound. Olminix would be dark soon. That was the only thought she kept. The priestess inside her shivered once with peace, then came apart. A small, bright happiness unraveled into the abyss. Where it had been, a butterfly lifted from the bloodstone, wings like liquid flame and ash. It drifted past Nyxi's cheek and was gone. Across the broken ground stood Olryme. Their robe held its quiet field of stars. Their white eyes did not blink. Nyxi stepped forward. They stepped forward. They circled, slow, measuring each other from feet to face. "The mortal is safe," Nyxi said. "This form is enough." Her voice was the priestess's voice with something colder under it. Olryme listened, head tilted, then answered plainly. "Then I take them now. We will meet again. You know we will." Olryme raised one hand. The mortal, slumped at the altar's edge, dissolved into soft light and was gone. The air where the mortal had lain held the shape of a held breath, then released. Nyxi watched without moving. She had what she needed. The two immortals looked at each other one last time. Then both were gone. Where they had stood, the air split open into a glowing tear, edged in stone that had not been there a moment before. Stars drifted inside it. The wound in the world was open now, and waiting.