Nyxara sat alone on the cold rooftop of the hospital, her legs dangling over the edge. Below, the city pulsed with life—horns blaring, people rushing, neon signs flickering—but up here, it was silent. The weight of exhaustion clung to her bones, a familiar companion after years of fighting battles no one saw.
She hugged her arms around herself, staring at the sky. The stars were distant, unbothered by the chaos of the world beneath them. How easy it must be, to exist without feeling, without pain. She let out a breath, slow and steady, willing herself to disappear into the night.
"Are you planning to jump, or just admiring the view?"
The deep voice startled her. She turned sharply, her heart stuttering as she locked eyes with a man standing a few feet away. He was tall, his presence commanding even in the dim light. A soldier—his uniform, though slightly unkempt, bore the weight of countless battles. His dark eyes studied her, not with pity, but with an unsettling calmness.
"Neither," she said, her voice quieter than intended. "Just thinking."
He stepped closer, but not too close—just enough to make his presence known. "Thinking can be dangerous at times like these."
She frowned. "At times like what?"
He shrugged, leaning against the railing. "When you feel like you're drowning."
Nyxara looked away. "I'm fine."
"No, you're not." The honesty in his voice made her flinch. "But that's okay. You don't have to be."
Silence stretched between them, the kind that didn't demand answers. For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel like she had to explain herself, to prove she was strong.
"What's your name?" she asked, glancing at him.
"Riven. And you?"
"Nyxara."
He nodded, as if memorizing it. "Nyxara, sometimes, all you need is a moment of light to remind you there's more beyond the darkness."
She wanted to scoff, to tell him that words didn't fix broken things. But something about the way he said it made her pause. Maybe, just maybe, he was right.
And maybe, this meeting—this fleeting conversation with a soldier she'd never see again—was the flicker of light she needed to find her way back.