Living with Monsters
Two days had passed since the fall of Arkhelm.
The bunker was cold, clinical, and designed for survival—not comfort. But compared to the ruins above, it was paradise. The wounded were healing. Children were laughing again. And two of the most dangerous beings in existence were wearing ankle monitors.
Forged from pure runestone and etched with binding glyphs, the devices wrapped snugly around Sereth and Vornyx's ankles. With them on, they were powerless—cut off from their ancient abilities, unable to shift, channel energy, or break the laws of reality like before. They were, for all intents and purposes, just... people.
Dangerous people. But still people.
Commander Strategos, ever the tactician, believed they could be "tamed." Or at least monitored. So each was assigned a handler.
Sereth, pale and ghost-eyed, was placed under the personal supervision of Elian.
Vornyx, sarcastic and unpredictable, was handed off to Lyra.
"Are you serious?" Lyra had protested. "You want me to babysit the thing that nearly destroyed the entire city?"
Strategos had looked her squarely in the eye. "Yes. Because you're the only one he doesn't actively want to murder."
She hadn't had a comeback for that.
---
The living quarters were simple. Each "pair" was given a suite with two beds, a shared bath, and a reinforced sliding door guarded by a runestone lock. Lyra didn't speak to Vornyx much at first. She cooked simple meals. She trained alone. And she tried—desperately—to pretend he wasn't there.
But Vornyx wasn't easily ignored.
"So," he said one morning while brushing his teeth with a piece of charcoal, "am I the only one who thinks this place smells like burnt tofu and despair?"
Lyra blinked. "…Charcoal?"
"No toothbrushes in war bunkers, princess. Improvisation is the spice of life."
"You're disgusting."
He grinned through gray-stained teeth. "That's not what you said when I saved the world."
"You ate people, Vornyx."
"Tomato, tomahto."
She hated how hard she had to fight not to laugh.
---
Across the hall, Elian and Sereth had a much quieter dynamic.
Sereth didn't speak much, only offering soft nods or quiet hums. But Elian found himself weirdly drawn to her silence. It was… comforting, after everything they'd seen. He cooked for both of them, sometimes teaching her basic human habits like folding clothes, tying shoelaces, and chewing gum.
One day, she quietly mimicked him brushing his hair.
Another, she asked him—barely above a whisper—what sunlight felt like on his skin.
He told her.
And the way her eyes shimmered made his heart flutter in a way he didn't understand.
---
Lyra did.
She watched them from across the cafeteria, from training halls, even during drills. At first, it was innocent curiosity. Then annoyance. Then… jealousy.
She had spent months getting to know Elian, fighting beside him, surviving together—and now Sereth, quiet, pale, deadly Sereth, got to live with him?
Sleep near him?
Talk to him?
One evening, Lyra returned to her room and slammed the door behind her.
Vornyx, shirtless and sprawled across his bed reading a bunker manual upside down, looked up.
"Let me guess. Lover boy's into creepy ghost girls now?"
She threw a pillow at his head.
He dodged with a grin. "I'm not wrong."
Lyra flopped face-first onto her bed and groaned into her mattress. "She's so quiet and fragile. He probably feels like a hero every time she blinks."
"You are aware you're ten times the soldier she is, right?"
"She lives with him."
"And I live with you. Who's winning here, really?"
Lyra sat up, her eyes narrowed. "You're infuriating."
Vornyx gave a mock bow. "And yet, here I am, powerless and charming in equal measure."
There was a pause.
And then—for the first time in days—Lyra laughed.
---
By the end of the week, routines had formed.
Lyra and Vornyx trained together (with foam weapons). They cooked questionable meals. Vornyx painted his ankle monitor red "for fashion." Lyra rolled her eyes but didn't stop him.
Meanwhile, Sereth began reading books Elian left out, and once, while he slept, she carefully pulled a blanket over his shoulders.
But not everything was light.
Vornyx still woke screaming some nights.
Sereth still flinched at loud noises.
And Lyra?
She still watched the space between Elian and Sereth grow smaller.
And wondered when, or if, she'd ever get that close to him again.