Naire's heart pounded as she stepped forward, her bare feet sinking into the damp earth outside Eryn's cottage. The void-born woman's red eyes gleamed in the moonlight, her tattered black dress swaying as she turned, beckoning Naire with a lazy flick of her long, black knife.
The scent of the void clung to her, thick and suffocating, curling around Naire like a chain she couldn't see.
The cottage door remained closed behind her, Eryn's voice silent for now, but the weight of her presence-of her kindness-pressed against Naire's resolve, urging her to protect the fragile warmth she'd found.
The woman moved toward the forest, her steps silent, unnatural, as if the ground itself parted for her. Naire followed, her legs trembling but steady, driven by a desperate need to keep this thing away from Eryn, her mother, her brothers. The hum of the void vibrated through the air, low and insistent, matching the pulse in her blood-the remnant of her father's taint, the jagged spikes that had once torn through her skin.
She pushed the thought down, focusing on the woman's back, the knife glinting in her hand, the faint rattle of unseen chains echoing in the distance.
"You're the key to taking over the world," the woman said, her voice smooth, almost musical, but laced with a hunger that made Naire's skin crawl. She didn't turn, didn't need to, her words carrying the weight of certainty. "It's your destiny, child.
"Naire's breath hitched, her fists clenching at her sides. The forest closed in around them, the trees looming like sentinels, their branches clawing at the sky. The air grew colder, heavier, the void's presence thickening with every step. "I don't want a destiny," she said, her voice rough, defiant, though it trembled at the edges. "I just want to be left alone.
"The woman laughed, a deep, resonant sound that echoed through the trees, making the leaves shiver. "Oh, child," she said, finally glancing back, her red eyes glinting with amusement. "The void doesn't care what you want. It claims. And you-" She paused, her gaze raking over Naire, from her borrowed tunic to the faint shimmer of void-taint beneath her skin. "You were claimed the moment you were born.
"Naire's stomach twisted, the memory of her father's voice-You are my daughter-cutting through her like a blade. She thought of her mother, her lifeless body in the burning village, the blood pooling at her knees. She thought of the boys in the alley, their broken forms, the screams of their parents.
She had never wanted any of it, but the void had followed her, shaped her, refused to let her go. "I killed him," she said, her voice low, barely steady. "My father. If he claimed me, he's gone now. I'm free."The woman stopped, turning fully to face her, her pale face almost glowing in the darkness.
The knife twirled in her hand, a slow, deliberate motion, its blade catching the moonlight like a predator's eye. "Free?" she said, her voice dripping with mockery. "You think killing him severed the tie? You opened the door, Naire. You broke the chains that held us-me, the others, the things your father bound in the void. You didn't free yourself.
You freed us."Naire's heart thudded, her mind reeling. The woman's words sank into her, heavy and cold, like the blackened blood that had once coated her skin. She remembered the Veil of Pyre, the lake of darkness, the moment she'd dragged her father into its depths. She'd thought it was the end, but now-now she saw the truth. The void hadn't let her go. It had used her.
"Who are you?" Naire asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands trembling as she took a step back. The forest felt alive around her, the shadows shifting, curling, watching.
"What do you want with me?"The woman's smile widened, her fangs glinting. "I am Lysara," she said, her name rolling off her tongue like a curse. "And what I want is what the void wants. Power. Chaos. A world reshaped in our image.
And you, child, are the key to it all. Your blood, your strength, the mark your father left in you-it's more than he ever was. You could be a queen, a god, a force."Naire shook her head, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. "I'm not a god," she said, her voice breaking. "I'm not anything. I just want to live.
"Lysara's eyes narrowed, her smile fading into something colder, more calculating. "Live?" she said, stepping closer, the knife still in her hand, its blade now still, pointed downward. "You don't get to live, Naire. Not like them." She gestured vaguely toward the cottage, toward Rhysha, toward the human world Naire had tried to cling to. "You're not one of them.
You never were. The void runs in your veins, and it will claim you, whether you fight it or not."Naire's legs trembled, but she held her ground, her eyes locked on Lysara's. She could feel the void stirring within her, the pulse of her father's blood, the jagged spikes that had once consumed her.
It would be so easy to let it rise, to become the thing Lysara wanted, to tear through her with claws and rage. But she thought of Eryn, of the warmth of the cottage, the stew, the rag, the simple act of being seen as human.
She couldn't let that go. Not yet."I won't be your key," Naire said, her voice steady now, though it cost her everything to keep it so. "I won't be anyone's."Lysara tilted her head, her red eyes glinting with something between amusement and irritation. "Bold words," she said, her voice low, dangerous. "But the void doesn't ask, child. It takes." She raised the knife, not to strike but to gesture, pointing toward the deeper forest, where the shadows seemed to pulse, alive and waiting.
"Others are coming. Things worse than me, worse than your father. They'll find you, and they won't offer you a choice."Naire's heart pounded, her mind racing. She could feel them-the others Lysara spoke of, their presence a faint hum in the distance, a weight pressing against the edges of her senses. The void was awake, and it was hungry. "Then why do you need me?" she asked, her voice sharp, desperate. "If they're coming, why not let them take me?"Lysara's smile returned, slow and predatory.
"Because you're special," she said. "Your father bound us, but you-you broke those bonds. You have his power, but more. You're a bridge, Naire. Between this world and the void. And I'd rather have you by my side than let the others claim you first."Naire's breath caught, the weight of Lysara's words sinking into her like a stone. A bridge.
A key. A destiny she didn't want but couldn't escape. She took another step back, her bare feet brushing against the tangled roots of the forest floor. "I won't help you," she said, her voice low, resolute. "I'd rather die."Lysara's laughter rang out, sharp and cold, cutting through the night. "Die?" she said, her red eyes glinting with delight.
"Oh, child, the void doesn't let you die. Not when it has plans for you."The air thickened, the hum growing louder, vibrating through the ground, the trees, Naire's bones. The shadows in the forest shifted, drawing closer, their forms indistinct but alive, watching, waiting. Lysara stepped forward, the knife glinting in her hand, her smile a promise of something inevitable.But before she could speak again, a sound broke through the night-a sharp, human shout. Eryn's voice, fierce and unafraid, calling from the direction of the cottage.
"Naire!"Naire's heart lurched, panic surging through her. She turned, her eyes darting toward the faint glow of the cottage, barely visible through the trees. Eryn was coming.
Eryn, who didn't know what she was facing, who didn't deserve to be dragged into this.Lysara's smile widened, her red eyes flicking toward the sound. "Your little friend," she said, her voice dripping with amusement. "How sweet. Shall we see how brave she is?"Naire's hands clenched into fists, her nails biting into her palms until they drew blood.
The void stirred within her, its pulse quickening, tempting her to let it rise, to become the thing she'd been in the Veil of Pyre. She didn't want to, but she knew-she couldn't let Lysara touch Eryn.
She couldn't let the void claim another piece of the world she'd fought to return to."Stay away from her," Naire said, her voice low, trembling with rage. "This is between us."Lysara's eyes glinted, her knife twirling once more. "Oh, child," she said. "It's never just between us."
The woman-Lysara-took a step toward the cottage, her tattered dress swaying, the black knife glinting in her hand as her red eyes gleamed with predatory delight. Eryn's shout still hung in the air, sharp and fierce, drawing closer through the trees.
Naire's heart pounded, her vision narrowing as panic and rage surged through her, a tangled storm threatening to break free.
She couldn't let Lysara reach Eryn, couldn't let the void taint the one person who'd seen her as human.Something snapped inside her.Naire's eyes darkened, the world sharpening as her vision bled to black, the void's pulse roaring in her veins. Her body moved before her mind could catch up, a blur of instinct and fury.
She lunged, her hands closing around Lysara's pale neck, fingers digging into cold, unnatural flesh. With a force she didn't fully understand, she slammed the woman to the ground, the forest floor cracking beneath the impact.Lysara's red eyes widened, surprise flickering across her face, but her smile didn't falter. Naire's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling as the void's power surged through her, jagged and alive.
Without thinking, driven by something primal, she leaned forward and sank her teeth into Lysara's neck.The woman groaned, a sound caught between pain and perverse pleasure, her body arching beneath Naire's grip. The taste of her was wrong-bitter, metallic, like the blackened blood of the void itself.
Naire's stomach churned, but she didn't let go, her teeth sinking deeper, driven by a need to end this, to protect the fragile warmth of the cottage behind her.Lysara's groan turned into a low, delighted laugh, her red eyes glinting even as pain twisted her features. "Well played, Naire," she rasped, her voice thick with amusement, her body shuddering under Naire's hold. "I hope you know what you're doing... when the dangerous ones come.
They'll kill everyone in this pathetic world... and take you, keep you as theirs."Naire's grip tightened, her teeth still buried in Lysara's neck, but the woman's words sank into her like poison. Before she could pull back, Lysara's body began to dissolve, melting into a thick, writhing mass of void-black goo.
The substance pulsed, alive and unnatural, pooling on the ground like a living shadow. Naire tried to recoil, but it was too late-tendrils of the goo surged upward, curling around her arms, her chest, seeping into her skin.She groaned, a sound of confusion and pain, her body convulsing as the void's essence invaded her.
It wasn't just Lysara's blood-it was the void itself, merging with the taint already in her, the mark her father had left. Her vision blurred, her black eyes flickering as the goo sank deeper, binding to her bones, her blood, her soul. The forest spun around her, the trees blurring into shadows, the hum of the void deafening in her ears."No," Naire gasped, stumbling back, her hands clawing at her arms as if she could tear the goo away.
But it was inside her now, a part of her, pulsing with the same rhythm as her father's blood, as Lysara's laughter. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, her breath ragged, her body trembling with the weight of what she'd done.The goo on the ground-Lysara's remains-quivered, then stilled, sinking into the earth like it had never been. The forest was quiet again, too quiet, the shadows retreating as if they'd never stirred.
But Naire could feel it-the void's presence, stronger now, coiled inside her like a serpent waiting to strike."Naire!" Eryn's voice broke through, sharp and close, her footsteps crunching through the underbrush. She burst into the clearing, her brown eyes wide with fear, her hands clenched into fists.
She stopped short, her gaze darting from Naire's trembling form to the empty ground where Lysara had been. "What... what happened? I heard-"Naire's head snapped up, her black eyes fading back to their human shade, though the void's pulse still thrummed beneath her skin. She scrambled to her feet, her body unsteady, the borrowed tunic stained with streaks of black goo.
"Stay back," she said, her voice rough, desperate. "It's not safe."Eryn's jaw tightened, but she didn't retreat. She stepped closer, her eyes searching Naire's face, taking in the fresh stains, the tremor in her hands.
"What was it?" she asked, her voice low, steady despite the fear in her eyes. "What did you do?"Naire's throat tightened, the weight of Lysara's words-the dangerous ones will come-pressing against her chest. She wanted to lie, to say it was nothing, that she was fine. But the void was inside her now, stronger than before, and Eryn deserved better than lies. "Something from the void," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Something I let out."Eryn's eyes narrowed, but she didn't flinch, didn't run. "Let out?" she said, her tone sharp but not accusing. "What does that mean, Naire?"Naire's hands clenched, her nails biting into her palms, drawing blood that felt too warm, too alive. "I... killed something," she said, the words heavy, raw. "Someone. In the void. And now... things are coming. Things worse than what was here."Eryn's face paled, but her gaze didn't waver.
She took another step forward, close enough that Naire could see the freckles dusting her cheeks, the stubborn resolve in her eyes. "You're not one of them," she said, her voice firm, almost fierce. "I don't know what you've been through, but I know you're not a monster.
"Naire's chest ached, the void's pulse warring with Eryn's words. She wanted to believe her, wanted to cling to the warmth of the cottage, the kindness of this girl who saw something human in her. But Lysara's laughter still echoed in her mind, and the goo that had seeped into her skin felt like a promise-a promise that the void wasn't done with her.
Before she could respond, a low hum vibrated through the air again, faint but unmistakable, coming from deeper in the forest. Eryn's head snapped toward the sound, her body tensing. "That's not normal," she whispered, her hand instinctively reaching for Naire's arm, as if to anchor them both.Naire's heart thudded, the void's pulse quickening inside her. Lysara was gone, but she hadn't lied-others were coming. Things worse than her father, worse than her. And they were close.
"We need to get inside," Naire said, her voice low, urgent. "Now."Eryn nodded, her grip tightening on Naire's arm, but her eyes flicked back to the forest, where the shadows seemed to pulse, alive and waiting.
"Whatever's coming," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes, "we face it together."Naire's throat tightened, guilt and gratitude warring within her. She didn't deserve Eryn's loyalty, didn't deserve the chance to stand beside her.
But as the hum grew louder, the forest stirring with something dark and inevitable, she knew she couldn't face it alone.She followed Eryn back toward the cottage, the void's pulse beating in her blood, a warning of what was to come.
Naire stumbled into the cottage behind Eryn, her body trembling with the aftershocks of the void's pulse, the black goo's invasion still thrumming beneath her skin. The warmth of the hearth hit her like a wave, but it felt distant, as if the void had wrapped a veil around her and the cottage's light.
Her borrowed tunic was streaked with fresh void-black stains, her arms slick with the remnants of Lysara's blood. Eryn's steady grip on her arm anchored her, pulling her past the threshold as the low hum from the forest faded, though its echo lingered in Naire's bones."Sit," Eryn said, her voice firm but gentle, guiding Naire to the stool by the hearth.
Her brown eyes flicked over Naire's trembling form, taking in the goo, the blood, the fear without flinching. "You're a mess again."Naire's lips parted, but no words came-only a shaky breath. She sank onto the stool, her hands trembling, the void's pulse still racing through her veins. She wanted to tell Eryn to run, to lock her out, to keep her safe from whatever she'd become, but Eryn was already moving, grabbing a clean rag from the pile near the kitchen and dipping it into a basin of water.
The cottage was quiet, Eryn's mother and brothers asleep, their soft breathing a faint rhythm from the crackle of the fire in the hearth. Eryn knelt beside Naire, her movements quick but careful, pressing the damp rag against Naire's arm to wipe away the black goo.
The cloth came away dark, the void's essence mixing with the water, but Eryn didn't pause, her eyes focused on the task at hand."Whatever that was out there," Eryn said, her voice low to avoid waking the others, "it's gone for now. But you need to tell me what's happening, Naire. I can't help if I don't know.
"Naire's throat tightened, Lysara's words-the dangerous ones will come-burning in her mind. She wanted to spill everything: the void, her father, the lake, the creatures she'd unleashed. But the weight of it was too much, too raw. "I... don't know how," she whispered, her voice hoarse, unsteady. "It's inside me, Eryn.
It's not just out there. It's me."Eryn's hand paused, the rag still pressed against Naire's wrist, but her eyes met Naire's, steady and unflinching. "You're not a monster," she said, her voice fierce, quiet. "I don't care what's inside you. You fought that thing out there. You protected us. That's what matters.
"Naire's chest ached, Eryn's words warring with the void's pulse, with Lysara's laughter still echoing in her skull. She didn't deserve this trust, this kindness, but she clung to it, letting it anchor her as Eryn finished cleaning her arms, her neck, her face. The goo came away, leaving her skin raw but human again, though the void's taint still shimmered faintly beneath."Come on," Eryn said, setting the rag aside and standing.
"You need rest. We'll figure this out tomorrow."Naire hesitated, her body heavy, but Eryn's hand on her shoulder was firm, guiding her toward a small room off the main area. A narrow bed sat against the wall, its woolen blankets neatly tucked, a faint scent of lavender clinging to the air. Eryn gestured for Naire to lie down, but when Naire hesitated, Eryn sighed softly and climbed onto the bed herself, patting the space beside her.
"I'm not letting you sleep on the floor," Eryn said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "And I'm not leaving you alone tonight. Not after... that."Naire's throat tightened, but she didn't argue. She eased onto the bed, the mattress creaking under her weight, and lay beside Eryn, the warmth of her presence a stark contrast to the cold of the void. The blankets were soft, heavy, grounding, but Naire's body remained tense, her black-tainted blood pulsing faintly, a reminder of what she carried.
Eryn's breathing slowed, steady and even, but Naire stared at the ceiling, the wooden beams blurring in the dim light. The void was quiet now, its hum gone, but she could feel it-watching, waiting, coiled inside her like a predator biding its time. Sleep came slowly, fitful, but it came, pulling her into a dreamless dark.
The next morning, Naire woke to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the cottage window, the air warm with the scent of fresh bread and herbs. Her body ached, heavy with the weight of yesterday's fight, but the void's pulse had dulled, a faint thrum she could almost ignore. She sat up, the blankets pooling around her, and realized Eryn was already gone, the space beside her cool.The cottage felt... normal. The hearth crackled softly, a kettle steaming on its hook.
Eryn's brothers, Lir and Tobin, sat at the table, their small hands tearing into a loaf of bread, their laughter light and unguarded.
Eryn's mother moved through the kitchen, stirring a pot of porridge, her weathered face calm, as if the hum of the void, the shadow of Lysara, had never touched this place.
Naire stood, her borrowed tunic rumpled, and stepped into the main room. Eryn was there, setting out bowls, her brown eyes catching the light as she glanced up at Naire. "You're awake," she said, her smile faint but genuine.
"Feeling better?"Naire nodded, though the motion felt uncertain. "A little," she said, her voice still rough, unfamiliar. She glanced around, half-expecting to see traces of the void-black goo, shadows, the glint of Lysara's knife. But everything looked normal, sounded normal, felt normal.
The boys' chatter, the clink of spoons, the scent of porridge-it was all so human, so untouched by the dark she carried."Sit," Eryn's mother said, gesturing to the table, her tone practical but not unkind. "You need to eat.
Keep your strength up."Naire obeyed, easing onto a stool, her hands resting awkwardly in her lap. The boys glanced at her, their curiosity softer now, less wary, as if the morning light had dulled their fear. Eryn slid a bowl of porridge in front of her, its warmth rising in soft curls, and Naire took a tentative spoonful, the taste grounding her in a way she hadn't expected.
But beneath the normalcy, the void lingered. She could feel it, faint but present, a pulse in her blood, a whisper in the back of her mind. Lysara was gone, melted into the earth, but her words-the dangerous ones will come-hung heavy, a promise Naire couldn't ignore. The cottage, Rhysha, this fragile moment of peace-they were all at risk because of her.
Eryn sat across from her, tearing off a piece of bread, her eyes flicking to Naire's with a quiet intensity. "We need to talk," she said, her voice low, meant for Naire alone. "About last night. About what's coming.
"Naire's stomach twisted, the porridge suddenly heavy in her throat. She wanted to pretend it was over, to lose herself in the warmth of this morning, but the void didn't let go. Not ever. "I know," she said, her voice barely audible. "But not here. Not now."Eryn nodded, her jaw tightening, but she didn't push.
"Later, then," she said. "But you're not facing it alone, Naire. Not anymore."Naire's chest ached, Eryn's words a lifeline she didn't deserve but couldn't refuse. The morning felt normal, looked normal, but she knew it was a lie-a fragile veil over the truth.
The void was coming, and when it did, it would come for her.Outside, the forest was quiet, the sunlight filtering through the trees, casting soft shadows on the ground. But Naire could feel it-a faint hum, distant but growing, a warning that the dangerous ones Lysara had spoken of were closer than she'd hoped.