Calypso stumbled through the forest, her breath ragged as branches clawed at her skin and glowing vines wrapped around her ankles like chains. The darkness here was thicker, the faint green glow of the trees doing little to ease her fear. She felt utterly lost, the cat's taunting words still ringing in her ears: "Don't get caught."
Her foot caught on a root, and she fell hard onto the damp earth. Tears stung her eyes as frustration boiled over. "Why me?" she whispered into the silence. "Why bring me here?"
A sound cut through the air—soft, rhythmic, and chillingly deliberate. Footsteps.
Her heart raced as she pushed herself to her knees. The steps were coming closer, but they were strange, a mix of soft padding and the faint scratch of talons against the ground. She turned, frozen by a figure emerging from the shadows.
He was tall, his frame shrouded in a long, tattered cloak that blended into the dark forest around him. As he stepped into the faint green glow, she saw him fully—his face sharp and angular, his skin pale as moonlight. His eyes were golden, but not warm like the cat's. They were cold, piercing, and utterly inhuman.
Feathers covered his arms, white and glossy, peeking out from beneath his cloak. They shimmered faintly as he moved. Behind him, large, skeletal wings hung like an omen, folding tightly against his back.
The man tilted his head, studying her with a quiet intensity. Calypso's breath hitched, and she scrambled backward.
She whimpered, her voice trembling not brave enough to shoot words.
His eyes narrowed slightly at the name. For a long, agonizing moment, he didn't respond. Then, with a voice low and rough, he said, "You shouldn't be here."
Before she could respond, Yonig raised one clawed hand. Shadows rippled around him, curling into the shape of jagged tendrils. They slithered through the air toward her, cold and suffocating, wrapping around her kneck like chains.
"No—wait!" Calypso cried, struggling against them, but it was useless.
Yonig stepped closer, his movements deliberate, his golden eyes unblinking. "You won't last long here. You shouldn't last."
The tendrils tightened, and Calypso felt her chest constrict. Tears streamed down her face as panic overtook her. "Please," she gasped. "I didn't ask for this! I don't even know where I am!"
Yonig hesitated, his hand faltering slightly. For the first time, his cold gaze softened, just a flicker, but enough to show something deeper beneath the surface.
Calypso noticed it too. "Please," she whispered again, her voice breaking.
Yonig's wings shifted behind him, feathers rustling as he stood motionless. His golden eyes seemed to focus past her, as though seeing something she couldn't.
A memory stirred—a little girl laughing, her hands tugging at his feathers. She was small, fragile, with bright eyes that looked at him like he was the entire world. Yonig blinked, and the vision shifted, darkened. The girl lay still, her laughter gone, replaced by silence.
The shadows around Calypso's wrists wavered, and Yonig's hand dropped. The tendrils dissolved into mist, and Calypso collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
"You are spared just this once," Yonig said, his voice low and strained.
Calypso stared up at him, her chest heaving, unable to speak, her silence spoke many words of her obedience.
He turned his back to her, his wings spreading slightly. They looked tattered up close, as though they had seen battles he didn't care to remember. "Nini gave orders of your death, but that bastard knew what he was doing.," he said quietly, his voice heavy with an intense burning desire of hate for nini.
Before she could say more, Yonig began to walk away, his dark silhouette blending into the shadows. Calypso stayed where she was, trembling and confused.
Above, an owl cut silently through the air, its white wings catching the faint glow of the strange forest. Yonig stopped mid-step, his head tilting slightly as the bird passed overhead.
"Stay still," he said, his deep voice breaking the oppressive silence. He didn't turn to look at her, his focus fixed upward. Calypso froze, unsure if it was a warning or a command, but she obeyed.
The owl gave a strange, echoing screech that set her teeth on edge. Yonig's shoulders tensed, his hands flexing as if preparing for something unseen.
"Disgusting flame," he muttered under his breath, the words dripping with disdain.
Calypso didn't have time to ask what he meant. Yonig turned suddenly, walking back toward her with his head slightly lowered but his entire posture alert. His golden eyes scanned the trees around them, sharp and calculating.
"What's going on?" Calypso whispered, her voice trembling.
"Quiet," Yonig said, his tone clipped. He stopped in front of her, his towering frame casting her in shadow. "They're here."
"Who's here?"
Before he could answer, two figures dropped from the canopy, landing in unison with a thud that reverberated through the ground. They wore identical tribal masks, their designs etched with swirling flame patterns, with red , yellow and blue feathers itching out of the edges of the circular masks. The holes of the masks where like black voids piercing through calypsos own. Their bodies were cloaked in black, their movements fluid and predatory.
Calypso's breath hitched as one of them tilted their head toward her, the mask's hollow eyes fixed on her trembling form.
"Sons of the Eternal Flame," Yonig growled, his voice low but filled with a loathing that made her shudder.
The two masked figures moved in sync, stepping closer. One raised a hand, and a burst of fire ignited in their palm, the flames flickering with an unnatural intensity. The other carried a blade that shimmered with the same fiery glow, its edge hissing against the damp air.
"Yonig, and who.?," one of them said, their voice distorted and echoing.
"Ignorant as usual Yonig.," the other added, their tone cold and mechanical.
Yonig stepped in front of Calypso, his wings spreading slightly to shield her. His golden eyes gleamed, and shadows rippled around him, forming into long spear with a big end blade.
"She's none of your concern," Yonig said, his voice calm but edged with menace.
"This is our land." the first figure said. "That makes her our concern."
The second figure raised their blade, pointing it directly at Yonig. "Move aside, bird, or burn with her."
Yonig's wings flared, the glossy black feathers catching the light of the flame. "Stand back , you foolish boys, does osa know of your where bouts?"
The air grew thick, the forest seeming to hold its breath as the tension crackled between them. The masked figures lunged in unison, the one with the blade aiming for Yonig while the other shot a arrow of fire at Calypso.
Yonig moved with inhuman speed, stepping into the attack. His shadow tendrils shot forward, colliding with the arrow and extinguishing it in a burst of black ash. He caught the blade mid-swing, his clawed hand gripping it with unnatural strength as the blade slit his palm he felt the trickle of blood down his arm.
"Run!" he barked at Calypso, his voice sharp and commanding.
She hesitated, her feet rooted to the spot as fear paralyzed her.
"I said run!" he shouted, shoving the blade-wielding figure backward and slamming them into a tree with a powerful kick.
The sound snapped her out of her trance, and she turned, stumbling through the forest as fast as her legs would carry her. Behind her, the sounds of battle rang out—fire crackling, shadows hissing, and the guttural growls of Yonig as he fought.
Calypso pushed through the glowing foliage, her heart pounding as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The masked figures, the fire, Yonig's power—it was all too much.
But as she ran, she realized something terrifying: the forest ahead of her was growing darker, the glow settled into an orange-red hue. The sun was setting. She skidded to a stop, her eyes widening as another masked figure emerged from the trees, dancing to music in there head.
They said nothing, only raised their arm to sneer at the girl.
A dark shape moved in a blur, slamming into the figure with bone-crushing force. Yonig stood between her and the dancer, his breathing heavy but his stance unyielding. The masked figure crumpled to the ground, their flames snuffed out.
"Keep running!" he snapped at her, his golden eyes blazing with anger.
"But—"
"Now!"
Calypso obeyed, her legs carrying her deeper into the forest as Yonig fought to hold off the feeble members of Sons of the Eternal Flame. The farther she ran, the colder the air became, the oppressive heat of the flames fading into an eerie chill.
She didn't stop until her legs gave out, collapsing near the roots of a massive tree. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to catch her breath.
For a moment, all was silent, and she wondered if Yonig had fallen. But then she heard it—the faint rustle of feathers approaching.
Yonig stepped into view, his dark wings folding behind him as he crouched in front of her. He was battered, his cloak torn and blood trickling from a gash on his arm. But his expression was calm, almost bored, as though the fight had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
She didn't speak. Like the words cut from her throat.
"You're welcome," he said, his tone dry.
"Thank you" she coughed out, her voice trembling. Looking for a sense of sympathy not to be murdered.
Yonig moved silently through the forest, his eyes scanning the darkened terrain. The girl followed behind him, her footsteps uneven and hesitant, but he didn't glance back. Not yet. The air was thick with tension, the faint echoes of the masked figures' departure still lingering in his mind.
He didn't know what she was, or how she had managed to end up here, but her presence was an anomaly—and anomalies rarely went unnoticed in this world. The Sons of the Eternal Flame had already found her, and that alone was enough to set him on edge. They didn't approach things lightly, not without purpose.
The girl was clearly out of her depth. She didn't belong here. That much was obvious. And yet, here she was, staring wide-eyed at every strange plant and sound, vulnerable as prey. He exhaled sharply.
This wasn't his problem. He didn't owe her anything, didn't even know why she mattered. But the moment he'd seen her standing there, fragile and shaking in the shadows, something in him had faltered.
Why didn't I just leave her?
His thoughts turned to his guild. They were resourceful, pragmatic, and more patient than he would ever be. If anyone could figure out what to do with her, it was them. Nora would be fascinated by her strangeness, desperate to ask a thousand questions. Collun… well, he'd find it as a challenge, as always, and will most likely take them on an adventure to find the girls home.
The girl stumbled on a patch of uneven ground, her pace slowing as she tried to keep up. He ignored her. She wasn't his to protect, not really. But the fact that she hadn't been killed yet meant there was something about her that deserved a closer look.
"I'll take her to the others," he muttered to himself, his voice low. They'd be irritated but intrigued with him for bringing an unknown into their midst, but he had no choice. They'd help him make sense of this, or at the very least, help him figure out what to do with her.
He glanced over his shoulder briefly. She was still following, her expression a mix of fear and exhaustion. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn't. That was fine with him. He didn't have the answers she was looking for.
For now, she would have to keep up. There was no other option.
"Stay close," he said, his tone sharp and cold. "This place isn't as quiet as it seems."
And as the words left his mouth, Yonig felt a pang of unease. He didn't understand why she was here, but the world had a way of dragging people into its depths for reasons far beyond his comprehension.
He only hoped the guild had better answers than he did.