Olryme's Arc

Chapter 3 of 10

Olryme knelt on the cracked temple floor and felt the new arch hum behind them. The blue scar of light pulsed in time with something far below. The mortal stood close, still shaking, the starry bunny tucked against their ankle. Olryme finally understood. The thing that tore free had a name now, surfacing in their mind like a stone breaking water. Nyxi. And Nyxi wanted a body. Olryme rose and walked to the arch. They pressed both palms to the moon stone. From the humming light, a shape began to weave itself — long dark hair streaked with red, a slender figure draped in shadow and flame. A vessel. Olryme had built it without meaning to, the moment Nyxi tore loose. Empty. Waiting. Made to hold the missing piece and keep it from burning the world below. But the figure inside the arch would not finish forming. Its eyes flicked open and looked past Olryme. They looked at the mortal. Olryme turned. A thin red thread of light ran from the mortal's chest to the half-formed body in the arch. Nyxi had already chosen. Not the constructed vessel. The living one. The mortal Olryme had brought here to train, to shelter, to one day stand beside them as an equal — was being claimed first by the thing that had escaped. Olryme moved fast. They stepped between the mortal and the arch and severed the red thread with one sweep of their hand. The half-formed body collapsed into smoke. The arch went dark. Far below, the eye-covered boulder shuddered in its poison lake, and the stone mouth in the earth howled green flame at the sky. Nyxi knew. Nyxi was angry. The mortal looked up at Olryme, pale and small. "What did you just take from me?" Olryme did not answer at first. The bracelet on the mortal's wrist glowed faintly, holding. The empty vessel was gone. The arch was only stone again. But the mark on the mortal's chest remained, a small red coal under the skin, and Olryme knew Nyxi would come for it.