Olryme

Olryme's Arc
Chapter 6 of 10

Olryme's dream is binding a single mortal dreamer to walk beside them through every age of Olminix as their equal.

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by @Xoryn
Chapter 6 comic
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Chapter 6

Olryme stepped off the island's edge and walked the air toward the distant tree. The blue leaves grew larger with each stride. Black sap dripped into the soil below. Olryme moved fast, but not fast enough to outrun the memory waiting in their chest. Halfway across the sky, a small bird formed beside them from nothing — grey and white feathers, a streak of scarlet down the wing. It flew the way the last one had flown. The mortal who made them laugh. The mortal who burned. Olryme did not look at it. Looking would mean stopping. Still, the bird kept pace, and Olryme felt the old shape of joy ride beside the old shape of ash. "Not again," Olryme said to the open air. The bird dissolved into frost. Olryme made a promise to the empty space where it had been. They would fold smaller this time. They would not let warmth become weight. Below the great tree, the bloodstone temple glowed. Inside, Nyxi guided the mortal to a basin carved from violet crystal — a shard broken long ago from a far peak, dragged here to hold dark water. She washed the mortal with slow hands. She dressed them in silks the color of wet leaves. A small purple fox watched from the doorway, blue-green eyes never blinking, marking the room as hers. "You should be honored," Nyxi said. She lifted a heavy collar from a stand of bone. It was shaped like a crouching beast, moonsteel claws curled at the throat, red stones for eyes. She fastened it around the mortal's neck. "Few are even considered. Fewer survive the question." The mortal's gold eyes did not move. The collar settled like it had always been theirs. Far above, Olryme reached the edge of the ritual ground and stopped. The temple's light touched their folded hands. They saw the collar through the wall — saw the mortal kneeling, dressed, marked, ready. The blood moon was not yet risen. There was still time. Olryme stepped down onto the black soil beneath the tree, smaller than they had ever made themselves, and the chapter of distance closed. The chapter of nearness began.

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