The darkness swallowed Keshiema and Cresil, taking every one of their senses from them. Almost. As they fell into the void, the only connection they had left was each other's hands.

  They landed softly in a world little different from the one they had left, and to be asked what exactly that difference was would have left them struggling to pinpoint the disparities. An eerie fog lingered, filtering the light and muting the once-brilliant colors with a wash of white.

  Anxiety and fear drained Keshiema's vibrant blues to shimmering silver. Something lurked within the mist: a dark shadow, barely visible, slithering through the trees. Cresil summoned his toxic aura to his free hand and pulled Keshiema closer.

  A patch of fog opened up, revealing a trail through the densely packed forest. Letting go of each other, the pair proceeded cautiously, every stride taken with the utmost care and precision. Keshiema's barefoot steps were soft, quiet. But Cresil, in his heavy combat boots, made no sound at all, his time in the field showing in his every move.

  "Cress?" Keshiema whispered, squeezing his arm.

  "Hm?" He stayed focused on their surroundings, on protecting her.

  "Do you remember what we're doing here?" She rubbed her eye, trying desperately to recall their mission.

  "Yeah," he raised his brows in concern for her mental state. "We're here to-" he froze, also unable to remember anything before entering the trail. Looking back, they found nothing but the thick white mist slowly encroaching upon them. The creature within croaked and chittered, growing louder the longer they delayed.

  Tugging on his arm, she urged Cresil to keep going. The creature followed closely as they continued down the narrow path, overgrown branches snagging their hair and clothes.

  A flute song drifted on the wind, a haunting melody just loud enough for Cresil to hear. The creature's tail whipped through the mist, striking the pair and knocking the wind from their lungs as they landed on their backs.

  Keshiema's lungs soothed themselves quickly with her aura, and Cresil kept moving through the shock. They scrambled to their feet and sprinted down the path, low-hanging tree limbs clawing at their faces as they ran. Keshiema's hair snagged in a branch. The pain radiated through her scalp as she tried to pull free. The creature shrieked, making her blood run cold. In the same instant, Cresil swiped at the stems, freeing her and pulling her along.

  In the back of her mind, Keshiema remembered the times her hair had turned to razor wire, and wished she knew how to control that. Not that it would matter, as she seemed to have no control of her abilities at present anyway. Even now, her arms were frozen in a thin layer of ice. There was a pattern she was noticing, but she had no time to think about it.

  The melody in the air grew louder, its tempo quickening with their pounding footsteps. The creature bounded after them, and the fog nipped at their heels. A clearing erupted from the trees, and when they entered it, everything stopped. The creature launched toward them, hitting an invisible wall at the edge of the clearing and bouncing back with a crack of thunder.

  Leaves hung in the air, their journey to the ground halted, sparrows and larks frozen mid-takeoff, some already in flight. Harp strings joined the soft flute, adding to the eeriness of it all.

  "Savarka!" Cresil hissed, shoving his hand into one of his pockets and pulling out a hair tie and handing it to Keshiema. She did her best to pick out the larger twigs from her coral hair, but when she tried to throw it into a quick braid, she found her hands far too shaky. "Wreck Tavera! War!" Cresil snatched the hair tie and gestured for her to turn around.

  He nimbly braided her long hair with practiced precision. "You need to make keeping it up a habit." She breathed easier knowing he was at least calm enough to use English, but she was still on edge.

  Cresil tugged on a missed stick, taking a few strands with it. The resulting pain caused her a shock of pins and needles. "Fucking hell!" Cresil growled, leaping away from her, cradling his hands. His gloves were shredded, but thankfully, he got away with only a few cuts. "The hell is going on with your hair, Kesh?"

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Shaking her head, she fell to the ground, afraid to do anything lest her powers malfunction again. She wanted to cry, to beg for forgiveness, but her body refused to do anything but rock back and forth. The frost on her arms thickened, and her body was cold and stiff.

  'Don't move,' her inner voice said. 'Every time you do anything, your loved ones get hurt. So just stay here, where the world has stopped around you," it mocked her. 'Your hair got caught in the trees, and he had to save you! How clumsy can you be?'

  "Keshiema, come on. I think we should keep moving." He tried to help her up. Her frost quickly froze the blood on his hands and crawled up his arms. He refused to let go, begging her to stand.

  'He's better off without you. They all are! Just give up and surrender to The Beast.' Images flooded her mind of Adramelech pinning her down, drooling at the thought of torturing her. Her heart stopped at the thought of what he would have done had Ipos not arrived in time to save her.

  "Damnit, Kesh! Move!" Cresil yanked her to her feet and dragged her to the center of the clearing. The music stopped, ending sharply.

  Keshiema stood with a blank, faraway gaze, mind looping through her failures. Leaving Tobias and Mia at the orphanage. All the times Cresil fought on her behalf. Not seeing Ipos's unstable state when she freed him, causing her to become injured, and burdening him with helping her escape. Losing herself in Adramelech's castle and needing Dásos to bring her back to reality. Killing Sonneillon.

  Another path opened before them, but Cresil hesitated to pull her through. He could carry her without sacrificing significant speed, but it would leave him unable to fight. Even summoning his aura would harm her in such proximity. The harp and flute began again, encouraging them forward as time began to move.

  A woman appeared at the end of the path, ghostly pale, her white gown and rose gold locks flowing as if she were suspended in water. She hummed along to the melody with the evocative voice of a siren.

  "Shit," Cresil cursed, already feeling the pull of the enchantress. "Kesh, wake up!" He screamed as he summoned his radioactive aura.

  The spectre, seeing her spell had little effect, shrieked, morphing into a ghoulish banshee. Charging forward, she closed the gap in the blink of an eye, knocking Keshiema to the side and pinning Cresil down. A violin and deep drum beat took the place of the siren song.

  Cresil gripped the monster's thin arms, his aura doing nothing, and his claws barely breaking her chalky skin. Taking a deep breath, she let out an agonizing wail, bursting his eardrums. With her next deep breath, Cresil could feel a tugging on his soul.

  The creature screamed again, and Cresil's vision turned blurry. He struggled to break loose, but the woman's grip was too strong. She sucked in another gasp of air, trying to take his soul. He held his breath, clawing at her face and arms. At the start of her third shriek, she fell silent and still.

  Tossing away the limp body, Cresil found Keshiema, holding herself, eyes full of tears. "Cress!" She cried, tackling him, "I'm sorry!"

  "Come on, Kesh," he pulled her to her feet. "There's no time. Let's get out of here."

  They rushed down the open path towards a wall of fog. The music, now a full orchestra, crashed around them. Assuming the slithering creature still lurked within the thick fog, they hurried, narrowly avoiding exposed roots hidden under a thin layer of fallen leaves as drooping branches clawed at their faces.

  Their feet pounded with the beat of the drums as the symphony violently crescendoed, matching the rhythm of their racing hearts. The music halted suddenly as they reached the end, the fog disappearing to reveal Merihim waiting for them in a small clearing.

  Exhausted from having his soul nearly ripped out, Cresil stumbled forward. Merihim reacted quickly, catching Cresil as he fell. "Keep her safe." Cresil whispered as he lost consciousness.

  Keshiema wobbled and swayed, her hair a mess of black, silver, and white, shaking from the adrenaline and emotional overload. Ice clung to her arms and her wind rose radiated with her erratic heartbeat as she desperately fought to maintain control.

  Seeing her state, Merihim moved to check on her, letting Cresil roll to the ground. The ice crystals on Keshiema's arms melted away, replaced by furious flames, her hair and eyes turning a vibrant crimson. Her mark shone brightly as she growled at Merihim's carelessness.

  "Ah," the prince looked back at his Second, "he's fine, I promise."

  His reassurance did nothing to soothe the rage. "Help him!" Keshiema demanded, exposing her razor-sharp teeth.

  Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Merihim turned back to Cresil. "Mosterra," he demanded, forcing the Impure to wake up.

  Stirring, Cresil opened his eyes, groggy but awake. "Yes, sir," he attempted a salute.

  "Do you need any help?" Merihim asked.

  "I need rest."

  "You may sleep." As soon as Merihim gave his permission, Cresil sighed and rolled over. "Satisfied?" He asked Keshiema. Her hair returned to blue as her eyes rolled back and the flames dispersed. Merihim barely managed to catch her as she fell.

  "Fate and Chaos, Phorest is gonna kill me."

  "Probably not," Dásos's sudden presence had Merihim's skin crawling. "Someone else is much more worth my banishment than you. So let's start with an explanation as to why she's passed out in your arms."

  Savarka = Dammit

  Wreck Tavera! War! = Fucking hell! Give!

  Mosterra = awaken