As Lira's blood seeped deeper into the fox's fur, it shimmered, not just a soft glow, but a radiant, living light that pulsed outward, warming the air around them. Her hand recoiled in awe as the fox's body was lifted slightly off the forest floor, fur swirling like smoke in the glow.
Then it began to change.
The shimmer thickened like mist catching sunlight, wrapping around the fox's form. Lira's eyes widened, breath caught in her throat, as limbs elongated, fur retreated into smooth skin, and the shape before her shifted, gracefully, unnaturally, into a tall figure.
When the light faded, kneeling where the fox once lay was a man.
He stood slowly, eyes half-lidded, his face calm, almost too calm for what had just transpired. Long hair the color of copper cascaded down his back, and tall fox-like ears twitched slightly atop his head. A layered robe clung to his form, rich in heavenly colors, edged with red embroidery like burning leaves. In one hand, he held a folded fan, its wood carved with ancient symbols.
He opened it with a flick, snap, and the fabric unfurled, painted with elegant mountain peaks shrouded in clouds. The air around him buzzed with silent power.
Lira, still kneeling, stared in stunned silence. Her hand trembled, still tingling from the healing she had given and something else that had passed between them.
The beast snarled again, taking a heavy step forward. Its massive shoulders heaved, its claws glinting with bloodlust.
The man with fox ears turned his golden eyes toward the creature, unimpressed. Calm, commanding.
"How dare you hurt me," he said, voice cool as wind passing through pine needles. "Lower being."
He flicked his wrist, and the fan swept outward in a wide arc.
Whoom.
An invisible force burst forth, soundless, yet thunderous. The fog twisted violently as if a storm had erupted in silence. The force slammed into the beast's chest, lifting it off the ground and sending it crashing through the trees with a tortured howl. Branches snapped. Earth shook.
Then… silence.
Only the fog moved now, parting respectfully around the man.
Lira could barely form a thought, her mouth open, heart hammering in her chest. Fluffy pressed close to her, tail curled tightly, but not afraid, watchful.
The man turned, folding the fan gently and tucking it under his sleeve. His gaze met hers.
"It seems we have much to talk about," he said, voice lower now. "But first... we walk."
The copper-haired man extended his hand toward her, the long sleeve of his heavenly-colored robe swaying gently in the fog. Lira, still kneeling, reached up almost without thinking, her palm still warm from the healing, fingers brushing his.
He pulled her up with ease, his hand cool and firm.
"Are you feeling good?" he asked, his golden eyes scanning her face with calm interest.
Lira nodded slowly, eyes still wide as she took in his form. The fox ears twitched atop his head, the same familiar tilt as the creature she had followed countless times. Her gaze lingered on the shimmer of his robe, the way the colors changed subtly in the mist, like moonlight dancing across silk.
He tilted his head, a sly smile curling his lips.
"I am beautiful, right?"
That snapped her from her daze. Lira blinked, then gave a sudden, quiet laugh. The tension in her shoulders released just a little.
"Yes, yes... beautiful," she admitted, unable to stop the smile that followed.
Because he was. Undeniably so. In an ancient, otherworldly way, like something from a forgotten myth.
He swished his fan open with a graceful flick and smirked.
"Of course I am."
But then his expression turned serious again, eyes scanning the mist ahead.
"This is not the time for talk. If you want your flower..."
He turned, already pushing aside the fog with his fan, his robe rustling like leaves in wind.
"Follow me."
Lira exchanged a glance with Fluffy, who looked equally puzzled but followed loyally. The fox-turned-man walked ahead with sure, silent steps, the fan parting the thick bushes as though the forest itself obeyed him.
Lira, still reeling, followed close behind.
She couldn't help but watch him as they moved, how gracefully he walked, how his long copper hair shimmered even in the dim fog. The reality hadn't quite settled in her bones yet. That fox, her guide, her quiet companion, was this. A man with ancient power and the presence of a storm hidden in silk.
Fluffy trotted between them, glancing up often at the strange new form of their companion. But he seemed to accept it faster than she did.
Lira whispered under her breath, more to herself than anyone:
"What… are you?"
But he said nothing yet, only kept walking, as the forest grew deeper, and something in the air began to shift once more.
He suddenly stopped.
Lira almost bumped into him, her breath catching as she noticed how still he stood, his copper hair brushing gently over his shoulder. He wasn't looking at her, his golden eyes were focused ahead, sharp, almost glowing through the mist.
His voice came low, barely louder than a breath.
"We are near."
He stepped forward, slower now, each movement deliberate. Lira followed quietly, Fluffy padding at her side, his little body close to her ankle like a second shadow.
The fog began to thin slightly, just enough to reveal a clearing, a patch of forest untouched by time. In the center stood a tree so wide, it would take ten people holding hands to encircle it. Its bark was pale and knotted, like bones of an ancient creature. Thick green vines spiraled around its trunk, climbing higher than sight.
And on those vines bloomed heavy, unopened buds.
Lira's breath caught. The buds were large, the petals curled tightly, off-white, almost glowing faintly, like they drank the fog. The tree seemed to hum with energy, like it remembered things.
The fox man walked closer, lifting his fan and pointing it at the buds.
"Lira," he said, voice calm and steady, "this is what you search for."
She stepped forward slowly, eyes wide. Her boots sank slightly into the moss as she approached the tree, Fluffy following a few steps behind her. The air around the tree felt… heavier. More aware.
She stared at the closed buds, heart beating faster.
The copper-haired fox-man stood by the great vine-wrapped tree, his long robe flowing slightly in the unseen breeze. His fan tapped gently against his palm as he watched Lira with unreadable amusement.
She stepped closer, eyes wide at the closed white buds clinging to the vines.
"But… they're white," she said softly. "The one I was told to find… was red."
Fox-man grinned, eyes gleaming like molten amber. "And yet, here you are."
She turned to him, puzzled. "So? How do I make it bloom red?"
He raised the fan and hid his mouth behind it, only his eyes visible now, sparkling with mischief. "Guess."
Lira frowned. "Sunlight?"
"No."
"Water from a sacred spring?"
"Too common."
"A song?" she tried, thinking of the flower fairies.
"Charming," he said with a wink, "but no."
Lira huffed, folding her arms. "You're enjoying this."
"Immensely," he admitted.
A pause. Then his tone shifted, softer now, more serious. "This flower does not bloom for just anyone. It is bound to cycles, and to choice. You'll need to wait."
Lira looked at him, brow furrowed. "Wait for what?"
He turned, gazing up at the sky hidden behind thick fog. "For the Blood Moon."
The words settled over the grove like mist.
"A rare night," he continued, quieter now. "When the moon stains the sky with its crimson hue, and old magic stirs again. That is when the flower will be ready."
She took a slow breath. "And then?"
Fox-man stepped closer, lowering his fan completely now. "Then… you offer it a drop of your own blood."
Lira stared. Her hand instinctively touched the place where she had scratched her palm the day before, healing the fox.
He watched her with a curious expression. "Blood carries memory. Meaning. Yours is… heavy with both."
There was a silence between them as fog swirled gently at their feet.
Lira stepped closer to the tree and touched one of the white buds. It was soft, velvety, almost humming faintly with potential. Not ready yet… but waiting.
She turned back. "So I stay here… until the Blood Moon?"
He nodded. "We make camp nearby. It won't be long. She's already rising."
Then, as if trying to lighten the mood again, he swished his fan once more and added with a smile, "Try not to faint when the petals open. They're even more beautiful than me."
Lira smirked and rolled her eyes. "That's not possible."
He blinked, pretending to be deeply offended, but the grin returned quickly as they moved to set camp among the roots of the old tree, the buds resting silently above them like sleeping secrets.