The words lingered in the air like an old, heavy perfume, thick and clinging.
Kairo's heart was a stone in his chest, beating once, twice, then sinking deeper.His fingers flexed against the hilt of his dagger, feeling the cold, familiar bite of the metal beneath his palm.He didn't loosen his grip.Not yet.
Luke's gaze flicked toward Vivy.His face was sharp — caught somewhere between a soldier's caution and a gambler's thrill, the glint in his eyes both warning and invitation.The corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to grin but thought better of it.
Liora's stance was stiff, shoulders tense as iron cables.Her knuckles whitened around the haft of her spear.She didn't speak, but the flicker of her eyes spoke volumes — moving from the chairs, to Vivy, to Vel'Kyren, then back again.She was measuring. Weighing. Preparing.
Vivy's voice cut through the thick, living quiet.
"Don't try anything stupid."
Her tone was even, but there was steel beneath it, buried deep under the calm surface like a dagger beneath silk.She didn't flinch, didn't look away.Her eyes locked onto Vel'Kyren's shifting, formless face.Her voice didn't waver.
"We can talk."
There was weight in those words.Not hope — not really — but necessity.Because whether she liked it or not, this was the road they'd stepped onto.And there was no turning back through smoke and old teeth.
The others glanced at her.Not quite surprise — but something like acknowledgment.A brief, shared flicker of understanding.
Vel'Kyren turned its head toward her.Slowly.The movement was unsettling — like watching mist learning how to imitate flesh.The hollow lights of its eyes — soft white, with edges of pale blue — fixed on Vivy for a long, strange heartbeat.Then, wordlessly, it turned away.Its gaze lowered, settling instead on the empty chairs.It waited.It was patient — too patient.
A long breath hung in the air.Nobody spoke.Not yet.
Luke was the first to move.Reluctantly, he stepped forward, his boots making no sound against the smoke-formed floor.His brow creased, a half-frown pulling his features taut as his eyes darted to Vivy once more.He gave a crooked, uneasy smile.
"Well… reckon we've sat in worse places."
He sat down — tense, leaning slightly forward, like a man ready to leap up again at the first wrong sound.The seat — though made of mist and nothing — held him.Solid.Almost warm.
Liora followed next, her jaw tight, lips pressed in a thin line.She sat stiffly, like the chair was made of old bones.Her grip never left her spear — though now she held it upright, the tip rising past her shoulder like a slender silver flame.
Kairo hesitated.His pulse roared in his ears, but no one else could hear it.The Flower stirred within him — a slow, sour voice threading through his thoughts.
Ahhh… and here we are. The good little moth drawn to the pyre.
Stuff it, Kairo snapped in his head. I don't need your commentary.
He moved — careful, deliberate.The chair felt wrong.Felt… real.More real than it should've.Like it had been waiting for him.Like it knew his name.And yet — it took his weight, solid and unyielding beneath him.He sat, face tight with half-formed confusion, the muscles around his mouth twitching like he wanted to frown but hadn't quite decided.
Vivy remained last.Her expression didn't shift, steady as stone.She lowered herself into the final chair, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp, watching every flicker of Vel'Kyren's form.She crossed one leg over the other.Didn't blink.Didn't breathe deep.
Vel'Kyren moved then — slowly, like a storm cloud drifting over a distant hill, its body folding into the final chair.It didn't sit so much as settle, mist curling into the shape of arms, legs, a torso, a head.The hollow of its eyes dimmed, and for a moment, the room grew darker, as though even the pale light were holding its breath.
"I take that as you all somewhat… cooperate."
The words came old, cracked, like ancient stone sliding across stone, yet soft, like a lullaby sung by something long dead.The way it spoke — the cadence, the words — marked it as something older than cities, older than memory.It spoke a little off — not broken, but different.As though speaking through words it didn't quite belong to.
It gestured, vaguely, the mist of its hand trailing into curling wisps.
"As you already reckon…I'm in a bit of a… tight fix."
The words tasted old, worn from a language long buried, like echoes of a people who no longer remembered their own names.The smoke figure leaned forward, its voice dipping lower.
"I wish to get gone from this cursed place.And well… none of you wish to rot here neither, do you?"
Its hollow gaze passed over them.Kairo felt it like a cold wind brushing his bones.It lingered on each of them in turn, then continued.
"So then… let's make it plain.Let me ride with you.Slip my way out of this pit, tethered like a wisp to your steps."
The air thickened.The chairs felt heavier somehow.The whole space felt like it was listening, holding its own breath.
Luke's expression darkened, one eyebrow rising high.
"You want to… what, hitch a ride?Why the hell would we drag you with us?"
Vel'Kyren chuckled — a dry, hollow sound like distant thunder rattling down a dead valley.A thin curl of mist spiraled from where its mouth should be.
"'Cause, lad…I got no taste for this place.Been shackled here a turn too long — years upon years..."
It tilted its head, smoke swirling in slow, lazy circles.
"And you lot…You move.You burn.You stir what ought not be stirred.I see it in you.Wolves, serpents, flowers in bloom."
Kairo stiffened at that.The Flower inside him hissed.
Ahh… clever little mist. I'd flay you if I still had teeth.
Vel'Kyren kept speaking.
"Let me pass with you — a wisp, a shade.I'll not meddle unless bidden."
Its hollow face turned toward Vivy.
"And I swear it so — by smoke, by sky, by the old songs sung 'fore yer grandmothers' bones were dust."
The room hung still.The soft light flickering in the smoke-fog made the walls breathe, or seem to.No one spoke for a long while.
Kairo's thoughts churned.The weight of centuries felt like it was pressing down through the air, through the seat beneath him.He hated how familiar it felt.
Vivy's voice broke the hush again.Measured, even, but there was a cold bite to it now.
"If we agree… you'll follow.Silent.No lies.No tricks."
Vel'Kyren inclined its head once, a deep, strange kind of bow.
"No lies, little lady.I've no stomach for it."
Liora's voice was quiet, but sharp.
"And what do you gain?"
Vel'Kyren's eyes flickered dimmer, and its voice dropped, almost a whisper.
"A way out, lass.That's all any of us want, aye?"
The air hung thick, smoky and alive, swirling in subtle eddies as if the room itself were listening.After Vel'Kyren's words, a long, uneasy silence stretched between them.
Vivy exhaled, slow and steady, her gaze lowered for a moment, then rising again to meet the others.The flicker of shifting light made her eyes look almost amber, glassy and sharp.She rested an elbow on her knee, fingers idly toying with the edge of the chair's arm, though her posture stayed solid, unshaken.
"Alright," she said quietly. "Let's think this through. Fast."
Her voice wasn't commanding, but it had gravity.The kind of voice that wasn't used to being questioned when it mattered.
Luke was the first to speak.Not much, as expected.He gave a loose shrug, leaning back a little, one arm resting on the chair, the other draped over his knee.His face was a mixture of wariness and detached amusement, though his eyes flicked between Vivy and Vel'Kyren with quick, sharp calculation.
"You're the one with the sense for these old things, Vivy.Me?"He smirked faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes."I follow.I respect your gut on this kind of matter.If you say we drag the smoky thing along — well, I'll watch our backs for when it turns, but I'm in."
The words hung for a moment, their weight heavier than they sounded.Luke wasn't careless.If he deferred, it wasn't laziness.It was trust, forged sharp by survival.
Liora's voice came next.Tight, clear, no hesitation.
"Same.I don't trust it,"**she flicked a glance toward Vel'Kyren, the grip on her spear tightening just slightly,"but I trust you more."She inclined her head toward Vivy, then looked to Luke."If we all stay sharp, no surprises we can't handle.And you're right — whatever this thing is, it wants out more than it wants us dead.That's leverage."
Her eyes were sharp, her mouth set.But it wasn't stubbornness.It was reasoned, weighed, and spoken with a soldier's cold practicality.
Then they all turned to Kairo.He could feel it, the slow weight of their gazes.A knot tightened in his stomach.The Flower stirred — whispering, half-singing — a brittle, mocking tone threading through his thoughts like a needle.
Ahh… the boy delays… little moth, lost in the flame again.You're going to die, you know.All this false courage — it won't save you. Not here. Not ever.You'll bleed for them, and when you do… well…
The voice coiled around his heart like a vine.Kairo's jaw clenched, his throat tight.For a long, aching second, he said nothing.Then —
He spoke.Quiet, but steady.
"…Fine."
His voice sounded strange to him — distant, thin in this fog-drenched hollow.He shifted in his seat, his expression unreadable, but his eyes flicked to Vivy, Luke, Liora, then briefly to Vel'Kyren.A bitter weight behind them.
"I'm not keen on this.But… better with us where we can watch it than loose behind our backs."
The Flower chuckled.Low, cold, hateful.It took the shape of words only Kairo could hear.
Hah. Anyway — like I said. You're going to die for sure, boy.D'you know that?Following them like a lamb… what a pitiful, useless little—
Kairo cut it off, his voice sharp, his jaw tight, speaking aloud without caring if the others heard.
"Just shut up."
His hand clenched around the edge of the chair.He leaned forward slightly, the words a hiss through his teeth.His glare dropped toward his own lap — but it wasn't really meant for him.
"I told you a thousand times already."
For a beat, the space between them rippled — something unspoken flashing across the strange stillness of the place.Luke raised a brow.Liora blinked.Vivy didn't react.If anything, she looked like she'd been expecting it.
And then — she spoke.Calm, clear.
"Then it's settled."
She straightened, addressing Vel'Kyren directly now.Her tone made it clear this wasn't a debate.It was a statement of terms.
"You can come with us.""But you help, too.You don't just ride along — you work to get us out.And you pull your weight when we need it."
The mist-body of Vel'Kyren moved — a slow, lazy lean forward, its hollow eyes glimmering faintly in the ever-shifting smoke.It smiled.Not with lips, but with the faint, strange sense of shifting light and the tone of its voice, like warm coals in an old hearth.
"Aye."It inclined its misty head, the air around it swirling gently."That's what I should do, no?Would be mighty rude of me to just sit here all idle-like."
Its voice curled into old syllables again, words half-forgotten, yet somehow clear.The edges of its words crackled faintly, like the distant pop of burning wood.
"And besides…'twill make our departure all the swifter, won't it?"
The mist around it stirred, almost content.And for a strange, weightless moment, the terrible crushing pressure of the place seemed to lift —just a little.
Nobody said much at first.
Just exchanged glances, silent nods — a quiet, unspoken agreement passing between them.
Even Luke, always one to crack a word or two, just gave a shrug and the faintest lift of his chin.
It was Kairo who broke the quiet, voice a little rough, uncertain but steady.
"Then… what should we call you? Vel'Kyren?"
The smoky figure's attention swung sharply to him, though its shape barely moved — it was more a sense, a pulling weight,
as if the air itself bent toward Kairo.
Then — in an instant — Vel'Kyren's body faded, reforming right in front of Kairo's face.
Close. Too close.
Kairo instinctively leaned back, his breath catching for a moment, a flicker of unease betraying itself in his eyes.
Vel'Kyren's form billowed in delicate tendrils, the voice slipping from it like old, layered silk.
"Ah… now that is a question worth the asking."
A hint of amusement, low and almost fond.
"Well, well — names carry weight, young one.
A pleasure to meet you all…
You may call me… Nymei."
It let the name hang there, like a thread suspended in the mist.
Soft, ancient, carrying some half-forgotten lilt.
Kairo stepped back half a pace, blinking.
"Uh… sure. Nymei."
The name felt strange on his tongue, like a word from a language he didn't remember knowing.
He didn't like how easily it settled into his memory.
But he said it anyway.
Nymei's misty form shifted again, floating lazily, as though the whole world were weightless.
Then — its voice came again, a little lighter, half teasing.
"Now… one thing more."
It twirled a long, smoke-like limb around itself.
"Do you… perchance… have any body?
A vessel, you know?
You surely don't expect me to go trailing after you all like this, do you?
Imagine how dreadfully annoying it is, my form leaving smoky trails everywhere, like some… cursed incense."
There was a pause as the group exchanged confused looks.
Even Vivy's brow furrowed slightly.
Her voice was wary but genuinely curious.
"Can't you… control it? Keep it in your… body?"
Nymei's form shivered with a soft, ghostly chuckle.
"Well… I can. But not all of it. If I try to pull every strand of myself in… it makes me feel far too full, if you catch my meaning."
A lazy gesture, smoke forming the vague shape of a bulging sphere, then popping apart like soap bubbles.
"And it's dreadfully difficult to maintain my shape like that. I'd rather not look like a storm cloud on the verge of bursting, thank you."
Vivy sighed, one hand rubbing at the bridge of her nose, then turned to the others.
"Guys… any ideas?"
For a while, nothing but furrowed brows and half-finished thoughts.
Luke scratched the back of his head, mumbling something unintelligible before shrugging in defeat.
Kairo opened his mouth once, then shut it again.
The tension hanging loosely between them like damp clothes on a line.
No one seemed to have an answer — until…
Liora snapped her fingers, eyes lighting up.
"Hey! Remember that sketchbook? The one I picked up from that old shop?"
Kairo's head turned sharply toward her.
Vivy blinked, her face brightening just a fraction.
The two exchanged a glance, as though the same idea sparked to life between them.
Then, in perfect, slightly amazed unison —
"Ohhh, right… that might work."
Luke raised an eyebrow, watching them like a man suddenly left out of a private joke.
He let out a long sigh, leaning against the back of his chair.
"Yeah, uh-huh. Sure. You lot just… do your thing."
He thought to himself,
I'll ask questions later.
One weird thing at a time.
Still, he gave them a small, approving nod.
Meanwhile, Nymei was lazily drifting in a circle nearby, its form scattered in thoughtless spirals like steam rising from invisible water.
At the mention of a 'sketchbook,' it turned toward them, curious.
Liora stepped forward.
"We've got something that might work for you.
But — it's back at the Wargon."
She gestured off into the mists, even though there was no horizon to point to.
Nymei drifted a little closer, circling her twice in idle, swirling loops.
Then it looked up, spinning in place, weightless.
Finally, it gave a grand, exaggerated bow — a ripple of its form dipping low.
"Alright, little lady. Lead the way."
With everything set, Nymei drew itself together.
The tendrils of smoke that had pooled like restless fog around their feet lifted, spiraling inward toward the entity's shape.
The place cleared, the air crisp once again —
leaving behind the soft, wet scent of the Bleakroot Fen.
When they finally lifted their gazes, the sky was clean — no coils of black smoke, no lingering shapes above.
The oppressive, clinging pressure had vanished.
Around them, only thick mist remained, rolling gently across the uneven earth.
It was… quiet.
Strangely empty.
But real.
And that alone made the Bleakroot fen feel less suffocating.
Without another word, the group began walking.
Their steps muffled against the soft earth, moving back toward the direction of the Wargon.