Nyxi's Arc

Chapter 5 of 8

The white realm went quiet behind them. Nyxi stopped in the snow and knelt. Her allies gathered close, still shaken. Lyr's sky crackled low. "Rylo is gone," Lyr said. Nyxi pressed her hand to the ice. "Not yet." Black smoke poured from her palm and shaped a small, crying child with Rylo's eyes. Umi stepped forward and lifted the baby. She studied his face without sentiment. "He cannot fight like this," she said. "And I am not raising him." She tilted her head toward the wind. "Plymaz. We need you." Plymaz arrived without sound, his book already open. He looked at the child once. "Time holds. It does not give back." Umi met his eyes. "Then borrow it." Plymaz set a great hourglass in the snow. Gold fire bloomed at its base. Sand fell upward inside the glass. He placed one hand on the baby's brow. Years poured into the small body in seconds. The child grew, stretched, hardened. Where Plymaz's power pulled, the air tore open and a thin, glowing shape stepped out — a spectral thing of purple flame, the cost of the spell made flesh. It watched, then faded into the hourglass's light. Rylo stood tall in the snow, whole again, axe in hand. He looked at each of them. "Plymaz. Umi. Nyxi. I owe you the rest of my fire." Lyr's mouth moved, almost a smile, then stilled. Nyxi rose. The hourglass burned on, marking the ground forever. Her circle was whole. Olryme still had the advantage — but the hunger in her chest had teeth again, and a god who had already died once to serve it.