Diana ...
Nothing lasts forever.
" Kaerith" I whisper sitting cross legged on the floor in the living room
"Kaerith". No reply
" Kae-"
" Kaerith Kaerith Kaerith! What is it ?" He snaps sitting on the couch opposite me
" What's wrong ?"
" Nothing's wrong you called ?"
" Yes I - why are you mad at me ?"
" I am ?"
" Yes why?"
" Am I?"
" What did I do ?"
" You did nothing Diana " .
" Diana ? No wild cat ? No pumpkin? No darling? "
" which ones your favorite? "
" What ? "
" Which nickname is your favorite? You like it when I call you my wild cat ? Or pumpkin ? Or no it's - darling ... , you love the way I say it , the way I lay emphasis on it - don't you ? "
He squats in front me , using a finger to lift my head up
" What happened to you Kae ? "
" Nothing that could have been avoided I assure you "
Kaerith
Few days ago .... On the day of the binding. ( Umbryss - demon realm) The meeting chambers .....
Something happened before the dungeons ,at the first calling of my name .
I sit outside that cursed castle, enjoying the fragile illusion of peace that never truly exists in Umbryss. The blood skies hum above me, eerily still, but the walls behind me shake with voices sharper than any dagger forged here, something even I myself refrained from writing .
"It's impossible!!"
Nyvaris again.
His fist collides with the obsidian table, and I hear the goblets crash — the scent of old blood hits the wind.
I sip mine in silence. It's always him. Loud. Proud. Bruised ego dressed in royal silk.
"Oh, quit the dramatics, Nyvaris," Mhorvael hisses back — cold, dismissive, unshaken.
Their voices spiral. I don't need to strain to hear them. The castle breathes their fury like an old beast used to fire in its belly.
"Didn't you feel it too, Mhorvael?! The boy has finally entered the depths of Hell!"
The boy. That's me, I assume. Nyvaris never liked to say my name. Too bitter on his tongue.
"And the boy, as you so belittle him, has done nothing wrong," Mhorvael says, calm as ever.
I smirk against my goblet.
"You would defend him? Even for this? I am disappointed in you."
"You're no one to be disappointed," she snaps back. "You just want something to pin on him, to force his hand. To force him into that pathetic game you play with your daughter."
The castle holds its breath.
"How dare you—!"
"No. How dare you," Mhorvael's voice drops, low and ancient. "How dare you stand in my presence and forget your place, Nyvaris. Do not mistake age for supremacy."
Even I flinch a little. That voice — it has cut through realms.
I lean forward, elbows on my knees, watching the darkened plains of Umbryss with something close to fondness.
They'll keep going. They always do. Mhorvael doesn't fear him — she doesn't need to. And Nyvaris? He hates me more than he hates weakness. Which says a lot.
A small ripple hits the ground beneath my boots. Faint… but familiar. Like a pulse skipping in a corpse. I still.
Then—
Pain. Sharp. Binding.
A silver thread coils around my spine, an invisible chain snapping tight against my will. My goblet slips from my fingers, hitting the stone with a musical clang.
"What the—"
A second pulse. Heat. Flame. Something ancient.
From the horizon of Umbryss, I feel it: her.
A flash of crimson. Her voice, tangled in forgotten tongue.
"Syikhal."
I stagger to my feet, the shadows around me rising on instinct.
She didn't just call me.
She bound me.
And as the magic wraps around my ribs like a cage of thorns, I feel it thread through my chest — a whisper, a scream, and her soul intertwining with mine.
Diana.
Well done, darling.
I steady myself, dragging in a breath as the chains settle — not physical, but very real.
Inside the castle, I hear chairs scrape and voices hush. Even Nyvaris must have felt it.
I push the door open slowly. Their argument still hangs like fog in the air.
Nyvaris rounds on me first, of course. "You."
"Me," I smile, stepping into the tension like it's perfume.
Mhorvael watches me carefully — always measured, always thinking. But Nyvaris?
Nyvaris glares as though my very breath is an offense.
"You've done something," he accuses.
"Not intentionally," I say truthfully, brushing a silver thread of summoned magic off my shoulder. "But if you must know, she summoned me."
"You allowed a mortal to—"
"I didn't allow anything," I cut him off, voice still calm. "She used an ancient word. She bound me before she even knew what it meant."
Mhorvael's eyes narrow. "The bond?"
I nod once. "Complete."
Nyvaris lets out something between a scoff and a growl. "You are reckless, Kaerith. You always were. This will bring war."
"No," I say, voice now cold. "This will bring me to her. And that is something no war can stop."
And as I turn to leave them in their disapproval and fear-dressed-as-pride, I smile softly to myself.
Because somewhere out there, in a world that burns just right—
She's already mine.