Olryme's Arc

Chapter 7 of 10

Olryme stood on the black soil and felt the moonsteel collar wake. A low hum rolled through the temple wall. The claws at the mortal's throat began to tighten on their own. If Olryme forced the doors now, the collar would close before the mortal drew another breath. Olryme stepped back, folded smaller still, and listened for a way in that the collar would not hear. The temple had no seams. Olryme pressed a palm to the bloodstone and pushed a thin thread of will between the grains. The wall opened like a slow mouth. Inside, past the chamber where the mortal knelt, a second door waited that Olryme had not made. A hidden room. Olryme stepped through. The room held a single book on a stand of bone. Its cover dripped without wetting the floor. A red star burned at its center. Olryme set one finger on the page. The cut came on its own. Blood touched parchment and the writing rose — sleep magic, soft as a hand over a candle. Olryme learned it in one breath. From the page, a small glass bottle formed, purple and gold, the spell held inside like a stilled tide. Olryme passed back through the wall and tipped the bottle over the kneeling mortal. Light poured down. The gold eyes closed. The collar's claws loosened as the body went slack and safe. "You are kept," Olryme whispered, and laid the mortal gently on the stone. Behind them, a voice that did not belong to the mortal spoke. "Thank you for taking such good care of her." Nyxi stood in the doorway, red gown still, black lips curved. "She is mine now." Olryme did not let surprise show — would not, ever — and threw both hands wide. A cage of blue light snapped shut around Nyxi. For one breath it held. Then it shattered. A broken key of cracked blue and tarnished silver fell where the lock had been, its star face split down the middle, still humming with spent power. Nyxi did not move her hands. The air folded. Olryme was lifted, turned, and flung — sky, soil, and temple gone in a single blink. They landed on cold stone under a strange sky, far from the tree, far from the sleeping mortal, far from the blood moon that had not yet risen. Behind them, in the temple, Nyxi sat down beside the mortal to wait for Olryme to find their way back.