The sun rose over Sylaphu, filtering through the translucent amber walls of the Guest Branch in soft, golden beams.
For the first time in her life, Briar didn't wake up reaching for a knife. She woke up because a beam of light hit her nose. She blinked, stretching her arms above her head, feeling the softness of the moss mattress beneath her.
There were no alarm bells. No shouting guards. No distant screams from the Imperial dungeons.
Just the sound of water flowing and birds singing.
She rolled over. Lyra was still asleep on the other side of the massive bed, her silver hair fanned out like a halo, clutching a pillow instead of her grimoire.
And Nyx...
Nyx was sitting on the window ledge, bathed in the morning light. He wasn't meditating or guarding the door. He was holding a small, blue bird in his hand. The bird was chirping at him, hopping from his thumb to his index finger.
Nyx looked mesmerized.
"It vibrates," Nyx whispered to himself, unaware Briar was watching. "A self-contained biological engine."
Briar let out a snort of laughter.
The bird flew away. Nyx jumped, looking over at the bed.
"You're awake," Nyx said, smoothing his expression back to neutrality, though his ears were slightly pink.
"Good morning, bird whisperer," Briar grinned, sitting up. She felt light. The crushing weight of the Empire felt a million miles away. "Did you sleep?"
"Briefly," Nyx lied. In truth, he had spent the night watching the two of them breathe, fascinated by the concept of peaceful sleep. "We have two days before we descend into the roots. Ancestor Gaia insisted we 'live' for a while."
Lyra groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "Five more minutes. The statistical probability of me getting up right now is zero."
"I smell pancakes," Briar announced, sniffing the air. "Elven pancakes. With Sun Pear syrup."
Lyra sat up instantly, her hair a chaotic mess. "I'm up."
An hour later, they were walking the streets of the Elven Capital.
They had abandoned their heavy travel cloaks. Briar wore a simple tunic and leggings of woven spider-silk that moved with her like a second skin. Lyra wore a flowing dress of pale blue that matched the sky. Nyx wore his midnight-blue robes, looking every inch the noble, minus the arrogance.
The city was alive.
They visited the Street of Whispering Glass, a market where the shops were blown from living crystal.
"Look at this!" Lyra squealed, actually squealed, running over to a stall selling floating quills. She picked one up, and it immediately began writing down her thoughts on a piece of parchment.
This is Fascinating. I wonder if the ink is mana-conductive or-oh, Nyx is looking at me, stop writing. stop writing!
The quill scribbled furiously. Lyra blushed crimson, snatching it out of the air.
Nyx tilted his head, reading the parchment. "You wonder if the ink is mana-conductive?"
"Yes!" Lyra crumpled the paper, shoving it into her pocket. "That is exactly what I was thinking. Nothing else."
Nyx looked at her, a glint of amusement in his golden eyes. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of silver hair behind her ear.
"It is beautiful," Nyx said. "When you get flustered."
Lyra turned the shade of a ripe berry. She opened her mouth to recite a statistic, but her brain had seemingly melted.
"I... you... the quill..." she stammered.
Briar laughed. It wasn't the harsh, barking laugh she used in the barracks to prove she was tough. It was a bright, melodic sound that made several passing Elves turn and smile.
"Score one for the Void Boy, and it's called 'Cute' not beautiful, remember to see the difference between the two words next time." Briar teased, hooking her arm through Nyx's. "Come on. I see weapons over there."
They moved to a training plaza. It wasn't for war, it was for sport. Elves were practicing archery, shooting targets that moved like wind spirits.
"Want to try?" an Elven instructor offered, holding out a bow made of white wood.
Briar looked at Nyx. "I'm a swordsman. I don't do sticks and strings."
"Scared you'll miss?" Nyx challenged softly.
Briar's eyes narrowed playfully. She snatched the bow. "Watch and learn, tall, dark, and handsome."
She nocked an arrow. Her form was perfect—Imperial military standard. She fired.
Thwack. Bullseye.
"Hah!" Briar grinned, flipping her hair back. "Top of the class at the Academy. Beat that."
Nyx took the bow. He looked at it. He looked at the target fifty yards away.
He didn't use a stance. He didn't aim. He just pulled the string back and let go.
Thwack.
The arrow split Briar's arrow down the middle.
Briar stared. "You've never shot a bow before, have you?"
"No," Nyx admitted. "But I understand vectors."
Briar shoved him, hard. "I hate you. I actually hate you."
But she was laughing. She grabbed another arrow. "Double or nothing. Moving targets this time."
They spent the next hour competing. Lyra sat on a bench nearby, eating a bag of honey-glazed nuts, cheering for both of them.
Nyx lost.
He didn't lose because he missed. He lost because he realized that when Briar won, she did a little victory dance. She would pump her fist, her red hair bouncing, her face lighting up with pure, unadulterated joy.
So, on the final shot, Nyx aimed a fraction of an inch to the left. His arrow hit the outer ring.
"Yes!" Briar cheered, jumping up and down. "I win! The God of the Void is defeated by a human!"
She ran over and hugged him. It was impulsive, a burst of adrenaline and happiness. She wrapped her arms around his neck, laughing into his chest.
Nyx froze for a second, then his arms slowly came up to wrap around her waist.
She felt warm. She felt alive.
"You let me win," Briar whispered into his ear, pulling back just enough to look at him.
"I missed," Nyx lied.
"You're a terrible liar," Briar smiled. Her eyes searched his face. "Why?"
"Because," Nyx said, looking down at her. "You look cute when you win."
The sounds of the archery range faded. Briar looked at him, her breath hitching. The banter died in her throat.
"Nyx..." she breathed.
"Hey!" Lyra ran over, oblivious to the tension, holding up a skewer of grilled mushrooms. "You guys have to try this! It tastes like purple!"
Briar broke the gaze, stepping back, but her hand lingered on Nyx's arm. "Purple isn't a flavor, Lyra."
"It is here!" Lyra insisted, shoving the skewer at Nyx. "Try it."
Nyx took a bite. His eyes widened. "It... does taste like purple."
They spent the afternoon drifting through the city.
They rode Sky-Skimmers, large leaf-like boats that floated on the wind currents between the branches. They watched the sunset from the Peak of Yggdrasil, where the clouds turned to gold and pink beneath their feet.
As the twin moons rose, painting the city in silver and violet light, they found themselves in a quiet grove near their quarters.
Fireflies danced around them. The air was cool and sweet.
They sat on the soft moss, exhausted but happy.
"I don't want to go back," Lyra whispered, breaking the silence. She was lying on her back, looking up at the leaves. "I don't want to go back to calculations and politics and my father looking at me like I'm a broken tool."
"We won't," Briar said firmly. She was sitting cross-legged, sharpening a stick with a small knife, looking at the fireflies. "We're out, Lyra. We're free."
"Are we?" Lyra asked. "My father will send the Legion. Your father will send assassins. And Nyx..."
She looked at Nyx, who was leaning against a tree trunk, eyes closed.
"Nyx has to fight unknown beings far stronger than Ancestors."
Nyx opened his eyes.
"Not today," Nyx said.
He looked at them.
"Today, I am not fighting anyone."
He sat up straighter.
"Can I tell you a secret?" Nyx asked.
Briar and Lyra leaned in, captivated.
"In the Palace... I was terrified," Nyx admitted.
Briar blinked. "You? Terrified? You stared down an Ancestor."
"I was terrified of being empty," Nyx said. He touched his chest. "When I woke up, I felt like a hole. I thought... if I didn't eat mana, I would vanish. I thought I was nothing."
He looked at Briar.
"Then you stood in front of me with a sword."
He looked at Lyra.
"And you stood in front of me with a shield."
Nyx looked down at his hands.
"I realized then that I wasn't empty. I was just... waiting."
He looked up, and for the first time since they met him, Nyx smiled.
It wasn't a smirk. It wasn't a polite grimace.
It was a genuine, eye-crinkling smile that transformed his entire face. It made his golden eyes soften into pools of honey. It made him look young, hopeful, and breathtakingly human.
"Thank you," Nyx said. "For filling the void."
Briar felt her heart stop. She had seen handsome nobles. She had seen dashing knights. But she had never seen anything like that smile.
Lyra let out a soft breath, her hand going to her mouth.
"Oh," Lyra whispered. "That's... that's unfair."
"What is?" Nyx asked, the smile still playing on his lips.
"You," Briar groaned, covering her face with her hands. "You can't just smile like that, Nyx. It's dangerous. It's a weapon."
"I am merely contracting my facial muscles to express satisfaction," Nyx said, the tease evident in his voice.
"Do it again," Lyra demanded, moving closer.
Nyx laughed. It was a low, rusty sound, unused to being used, but it was real.
"Come here," Nyx said.
He opened his arms.
This time, there was no hesitation. Briar crawled over the moss and tucked herself into his left side. Lyra moved to his right, resting her head on his shoulder.
Nyx wrapped his arms around them. He held them close, smelling the fire-bloom in Briar's hair and the ink on Lyra's fingers.
They sat there in the moonlight, a tangle of limbs and beating hearts.
"I could get used to this," Briar murmured sleepily, her hand resting over Nyx's heart.
"Me too," Lyra whispered.
Nyx rested his chin on the top of Briar's head.
"We will keep this," Nyx promised into the night. "No matter what is down in those roots... no matter what comes from the sky... we will keep this."
The wind rustled the leaves, singing a lullaby to the three fugitives.
For one night, they weren't warriors, or scholars, or gods. They were just happy.
But as Nyx held them, watching the moons drift across the sky, his golden eyes hardened slightly. He felt the weight of the Second Shackle waiting for him.
He would enjoy this peace tonight.
And tomorrow... he would kill anything that tried to take it away from them.