It smelled like home.
Then—
The scent vanished, replaced by iron.
Blood.
That's when I saw it.
The blood on my hands.
On my clothes.
On my skin.
Smeared onto her hoodie.
Onto her hands.
My fingers trembled, unsure whether to let go or not.
I whispered weakly.
"I am dirty…"
She pressed closer.
"I don't care."
A pause.
Then—
A whisper.
"This blood is the reason you're here."
"Alive."
We held each other for a breath longer.
Then I whispered, more to myself than to her—
"...You are too...late."
She heard it.
Her grip loosened a fraction as she leaned back. Green eyes meet mine, confusion etched into them.
"Too late for what?"
I took a deep breath.
Haah.
"For me…"
Her gaze sharpened. I looked away.
"I am done. I have seen enough."
I swallowed.
The words were stuck in my throat.
"I—I can't do it anymore."
Her hands returned to my cheeks, lifting my face. I tried to keep my eyes down, but she wouldn't let me hide.
Her voice was firm, almost like a command.
"Look at me."
I hesitated—then met her eyes.
"You can," she said. "For me."
My gaze dropped again.
"No..."
Her fingers pressed gently, insistently.
"Breathe."
I breathed.
Haah.
"Yes," she murmured. "Slow and deep. Just breathe."
I steadied—just enough to meet her gaze again.
Her voice softened.
"Now tell me. What are you afraid of?"
Her green eyes looked at me as if they could see everything.
The lies.
The truth.
The things I tried to hide.
I swallowed.
"I...don't know."
And lied.
Her tone sharpened, demanding an answer.
"Tell me the truth."
My mouth opened to form another lie—then stopped.
Her gaze weighed on me.
My throat was dry when I finally spoke.
"That it will be for nothing. That I will never find you."
My voice cracked.
"That you're dead."
Her hands held my cheeks firmer.
"Adonis."
She paused, letting the word settle.
"I am here. In this world."
"Waiting for you to find me."
My eyes searched her face for a crack, for a lie.
"You are..?"
She spoke as if it were the only truth in this world.
"I am."
She leaned closer, closing the distance.
Her gaze was sharp as she spoke firmly.
"It doesn't matter how long it takes," she said firmly. "It doesn't matter what you have to do."
"Or how much blood sticks to your hands."
A pause.
"I want you to survive."
She took a breath.
"I want you to find me."
Silence fell between us.
I swallowed.
"Will I be able to?"
Her right hand left my cheek and pressed against my chest.
She spoke gently.
"As long as you breathe. As long as your heart beats. As long as you survive."
Her palm pressed right over my heart. Warm, even through fabric.
"You will find me."
My lips trembled.
"How long...do I need to survive?"
Her hand left my chest. One finger rose and tapped my forehead.
Tap.
"Tomorrow."
I frowned.
"Tomorrow?"
Tap.
"Survive until tomorrow."
"And then?"
"Survive until the next one."
I didn't understand. Her words made no sense to me.
"What?"
Tap.
"Just one day."
Tap.
"Survive only until tomorrow."
Tap.
"And when you do—"
Tap.
"Survive again."
Tap.
"Until your next tomorrow."
Tap.
"And I will wait for you."
Tap.
"And you will—"
She didn't finish. Her finger tapped again, slower.
Tap.
Her eyes held mine like she was waiting for something.
Something felt strange about her touch and that gaze. It wasn't uncomfortable or unpleasant. Just strange.
And before I knew it—
"I will search for you."
I completed her sentence.
Tap.
My voice steadied.
"I will find you."
Tap.
She tapped my forehead one last time before pulling back. A gentle smile spread across her face.
"Good," she whispered. "Remember it."
My head was already nodding.
Slowly, she withdrew her hands and looked at me one more time before standing.
Step.
She brushed her clothes—straightening folds, smoothing the fabric.
Her hair was disheveled, damp with my tears. The white hoodie was stained red.
She reached out her hand.
My gaze stayed on it.
Blood.
My blood.
It covered her hand.
Her voice was soft.
"Adonis."
A pause.
"It's time."
My arm moved without thought, fingers closing around her hand. Only then did I ask—
"Time for what?"
She didn't answer and pulled me up before leading me toward the beds.
I asked again.
"Lisa?"
Step.
She stopped at the bed and guided me down.
"You need to rest," she said gently. "You'll need your strength for tomorrow. Remember?"
Her words had some charm that made me nod and move without thinking. I lay down, shifting until I could rest comfortably.
Her hand still held mine as she knelt beside me.
I turned my head toward her.
"I will see them if I close my eyes."
She pressed my hand once, gently.
"Then think of me."
I whispered.
"I will hear them if I close my eyes."
Her hand left mine and slid into my hair, brushing through it slowly.
She whispered into my ear.
"Then let my voice be your lullaby."
She began to hum softly.
Hmm.
Hmm.
My eyes closed.
Hmm.
"Will I see you again?"
Hmm.
"Yes."
Hmm.
"How?"
Hmm.
"I am always with you."
Hmm.
"Watching over you."
Hmm.
"Calming you into sleep."
Hmm.
"Now sleep."
Hmm.
"I will wait for you."
Hmm.
"So hold on."
Hmm.
"Just a bit longer."
Hmm.
"Until I see you again."
Hmm.
"My love."
***
The night was silent.
Old stone formed the chamber's walls, each block worn down by the passage of time. At its center stood a simple seat carved from the same stone as the walls and floor. It was not a throne—there were no ornaments, no symbols—only a place meant to sit.
No lightstones shone.
The room did not need light.
Where a ceiling should have been, there was nothing.
No glass.
No dome.
Only an opening that exposed the chamber directly to the night sky. Starlight spilled down through it, faint and distant, illuminating the lone figure seated below.
He had pale skin, almost white. He appeared young and old at once, as if time had long since lost its meaning to him.
At first glance, he seemed human. A second look revealed the differences.
Long hair fell down his back as his head rested against the stone seat. His hair was colored silver, threaded with faint hues of violet and blue—like mist drifting through a distant nebula.
The figure sat unmoving, eyes closed.
Silence enveloped the chamber.
Then—
His eyes opened.
Where irises should have been, there was something else.
White light burned within them, arranged in the shape of a constellation. The stars shifted slowly, almost imperceptibly, as his gaze lifted toward the sky.
The Xhantari breathed once.
After a long moment, he spoke—his voice calm and old.
"A new era is approaching."