1. Zyx

1

ZYX

" S omething's not right," I whisper beneath my breath.

I move silently through the dense forests of northeastern Terramyst, my footsteps barely disturbing the crystalline moss beneath my feet. The air thrums with a deep, resonant energy that sets my nerves on edge. Something's off today.

My wings are folded tight against my back as I weave between towering trees with bark that shimmers like polished obsidian. Their leaves pulse with an inner light, casting an eerie glow across the forest floor. Bioluminescent fungi cluster at the base of each trunk, their soft blue glow usually a comforting sight. But today, they seem muted, as if holding their breath.

I pause, extending my senses outward. The usual cacophony of Terramyst's wildlife is absent. No chirping of crystal-winged birds, no rustling of gem-scaled forest creatures. Even the ever-present hum of the earth feels subdued.

My silver eyes scan the surroundings, searching for any sign of movement. The floating islands off the coast that usually drift lazily between the realms look still, suspended in the twilight sky like frozen sentinels. Rivers of flowing gemstones that typically babble and gurgle their way through the underbrush are eerily quiet, their surfaces unnaturally smooth.

I flex my fingers, feeling the tips of my retractable claws itching to emerge. Every instinct screams danger, but I can't pinpoint the source. The air feels thick, charged with an unfamiliar energy that makes my skin prickle.

Ahead, a clearing opens up, revealing a vista of Terramyst's landscape. Mountains rise in the distance, their rocky faces sparkling beneath the twin moons. Usually during the week of the solstice, we can see more, but the ever-present twilight seems to be thick with clouds right now.

I crouch low, using the shadows cast by a cluster of crystal formations to conceal my presence. My midnight blue skin shifts, adapting to the surrounding colors. It's a handy trick for hunting, but right now, it feels more like a necessary precaution.

The winter solstice festival looms large in my mind. I wanted to hunt before the festival so I could spend the night in the city and have plenty to eat tomorrow after all the wine I know I'll drink tonight. But with the forest this quiet, I'm starting to wonder if there's anything left to hunt.

A faint tremor runs through the ground beneath my feet. It's subtle, barely noticeable, but in this unnatural silence, it might as well be a thunderclap. I freeze, every muscle taut, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

I hold my breath, every sense on high alert. The tremor fades, but the unease lingers. And something calls me forward.

I follow where the sound came from, the magic in the air feeling tumultuous. Shadows cling to my form, helping hide me or guide me, I'm not sure, as I move toward the source of the disturbance.

And that's when I see them.

Two figures lie sprawled on the forest floor, motionless. My heart races as I approach cautiously, wings twitching with nervous energy.

The first figure is unmistakably a demon. His obsidian skin gleams in the dim light, covered in blue runes that pulse faintly with an energy I don't recognize. Small horns protrude from his forehead, and his white hair fans out around him like a halo. A soz'garoth demon, if I'm not mistaken, though I've never seen one in person. What is he doing in Terramyst? Or Nythorra at all.

But it's the second figure that truly throws me. A… woman?

"What are you?" I murmur as I sink down into a crouch, careful to be ready to fight if she wakes.

I blink, certain I must be seeing things because I have never seen or heard of this creature. I know of all the races of Nythorra, even some from Aerasak like the demon.

Yet this creature… She has a form like mine, though much shorter, with brown skin a stark contrast to the crystalline ground beneath her. Freckles dot her face, and her black curly hair is tangled with leaves and twigs. And there's no wings.

My mind reels. A demon and another creature, both unconscious here in Terramyst? It doesn't make any sense. Every instinct screams danger, tells me to turn and run, to alert other guards.

But something stops me. Maybe it's the vulnerability in their faces, or the way the woman's hand is stretched out, fingers barely touching the demon's arm. Whatever it is, I don't feel danger from them.

I pray to the Seven that I'm not wrong.

I move a little closer to them, my claws extending from my fingertips as I scan the area for any immediate threats. The forest remains unnaturally still, as if holding its breath.

"Hey," I whisper, gently shaking the demon's shoulder. No response. I try the woman next, careful not to scratch her with my claws. "Can you hear me?"

As I consider my options, my wings slightly spread in a non-threatening manner, I notice the demon's eyelids fluttering. He groans, a hand coming up to rub his forehead.

"Easy there," I say, keeping my voice low and calm. "You've had quite a tumble."

The demon's silver eyes snap open, immediately alert. He sits up abruptly, then winces, clearly regretting the sudden movement.

"Where am I?" he demands, his voice rough.

"Terramyst," I reply, watching him carefully. His brow furrows as he tries to process the information. "I'm Zyxander, but most call me Zyx." And then, to try and help him know I don't see him as a threat. "You're not from around here, are you?"

The demon's eyes narrow, taking in my appearance. "No," he says slowly. "I'm Kairos. From... elsewhere."

I can't help the dry chuckle that escapes me. "Elsewhere, huh? Let me take a wild guess - Aerasak?"

Kairos stiffens, looking up at me. "You know of Aerasak?"

"Relax," I say, holding up my hands. He seems to be getting agitated, those runes flaring with every word I say. "I'm not here to cause trouble. Just curious how a demon ended up in Terramyst. Not exactly a popular vacation spot for your kind. Never heard of one coming here, to be honest. Oltyx can be a bit protective about visitors."

Kairos's eyes widen at the mention of Oltyx's name, and I see a flash of... is that fear?

"You... you just said his name," Kairos whispers, looking around as if expecting divine retribution to strike at any moment.

I raise an eyebrow. "Yeah? That's kind of how names work. You say them when you're talking about someone."

Kairos shakes his head, clearly bewildered. "But on Galmoleth, we're taught never to speak the gods' names. It's... it's sacrilege."

"Huh," I muse, genuinely intrigued. I don't know what Galmoleth is, but it seems there's a lot neither of us know. "Interesting custom. Here in Nythorra, we use their names all the time. They seem to like it, actually."

Kairos opens his mouth, about to ask another question, when the woman groans. In an instant, he's at her side, all thoughts of our conversation forgotten.

"Naia," he whispers, his voice filled with concern. "Naia, can you hear me?"

I watch, fascinated, as he gently brushes her hair away from her face. The tenderness in his touch is at odds with everything I've ever heard about demons. It's... unexpected.

The woman - Naia, apparently - stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She looks around, confusion evident on her face, before her gaze settles on Kairos. Relief floods her features.

"Kairos," she murmurs, reaching for his hand. "Where are we?"

As I observe their interaction, I feel an inexplicable urge to protect these strangers. It doesn't make sense. I'm a border guard, tasked with keeping outsiders away, not welcoming them with open arms. Oltyx — well, none of the gods really — care for anyone, even other noctari, to come to their realms without their blessing.

But something about their vulnerability, their clear disorientation, tugs at me.

I clear my throat softly, drawing their attention. Naia's eyes widen as she takes in my appearance, but to her credit, she doesn't scream or recoil. Instead, she regards me with a mix of wariness and curiosity.

"Why does he look like a dark elf?" she whispers to Kairos.

The way she says the word…I try not to take it as an insult. "I'm a noctari," I offer, shifting and my wings rustle.

Her eyes widen and the demon tightens his hold on her, the runes flaring with light. "He's a dark elf with wings ."

At this, I scratch my head. "I…I'm afraid I don't know what a dark elf is."

This time, she at least looks excited. "You don't?" She looks to Kairos. "Oh, thank the Thirteen," she sighs.

He smiles at her, and I hold back my question about whatever pantheon she's thanking. Thirteen gods? Where are they from?

Instead, I try again to establish some form of comfort. "I'm Zyxander," I say, offering them a tentative smile. "But you can call me Zyx. You're in Terramyst, one of the realms of Nythorra."

Naia and Kairos exchange a glance, clearly lost. I can almost see the questions forming in their minds.

But I need an answer of my own first. "I know of demons, from Aerasak, but what are…you?" I look at Naia, trying not to be rude.

"You don't know what humans are?" she asks.

I shake my head. "Never seen anyone like you."

"There are some on Aerasak," Kairos supplies.

"But I-" Naia looks to Kairos. "Well, we're from Protheka."

"Never heard of it." I stand, letting my wings stretch in the process. "Never been to Aerasak, either."

And they both just stare up at me like I've lost my mind. Like they aren't the ones that dropped in the middle of my world.

But despite the potential risks - bringing strangers into our realm, especially a demon, could have serious consequences - I make a decision. These two need help, and for whatever reason, I feel compelled to offer it.