Chapter 70
989 Words
The shared chamber had been prepared in silence.
Not the peaceful kind—but the kind that came before something either worked… or destroyed everything.
Layers of protective magic wrapped the room like invisible walls. Heat dampening sigils etched into the floor. Shadow-binding runes carved into the air itself. Healers stood at a distance, tense and ready, while the head healer kept his gaze fixed on the center of the chamber.
“No sudden interference,” he said firmly. “If anything shifts—we observe first.”
No one argued.
Diana was brought in first.
The moment she crossed the threshold, the temperature shifted.
Not slightly.
Violently.
Heat surged outward in a wave so intense the nearest healer staggered back, nearly losing balance despite layered protection spells. The air warped, shimmering like fire was trying to escape her body.
“Hold the ward—now!” someone shouted.
The barrier strained.
Cracked slightly.
But held.
Then Dylan was carried in.
Everything changed.
The instant his presence entered the room, the air dropped.
Light dimmed.
Shadows deepened unnaturally across the floor, crawling outward as if searching. The two forces reacted before either body even touched the ground.
Fire flared.
Darkness answered.
“Separate them—!” a healer panicked.
“No,” the head healer said sharply. “Hold.”
They were placed down slowly.
Carefully.
But the moment distance between them closed—
the chamber erupted.
Heat and shadow collided mid-air.
A violent surge of opposing forces exploded outward, shaking the protective wards until runes flickered and groaned under pressure. The air itself seemed torn between two realities.
Yet—
they did not destroy each other.
They circled.
Flames spiraled around darkness.
Darkness folded around flame.
Neither consuming.
Neither retreating.
The chaos steadied… into rhythm.
Somewhere beyond sight—
Diana drifted.
And Dylan fell into silence.
There was no room.
No chamber.
No pain.
Only void.
“You feel her.”
Dylan turned slowly.
Nytherion stood before him.
“I do,” Dylan admitted quietly.
The dragon’s gaze deepened.
“She is close.”
Dylan’s chest tightened slightly. “…Is this supposed to be happening?”
Nytherion stepped closer.
“You are not separate,” it said. “You are linked.”
A pause.
Then—
“They are also speaking.”
Fire stretched endlessly.
Warm, but not destructive.
Alive.
Cyrentha stood within it, watching Diana calmly.
“You awaken slowly,” she said.
Diana did not respond immediately. Her awareness was still returning, like a tide pulling her back into reality.
“…Where am I?” she whispered.
“Between,” Cyrentha answered.
Diana’s brow furrowed slightly.
Then she felt it.
A pull.
Faint.
But undeniable.
“…I feel something,” she murmured.
Cyrentha’s flames shifted gently.
“Yes.”
Nytherion’s voice followed—not loud, but present.
“And so do I.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
But recognition settled between them.
Not confusion.
Not fear.
Understanding.
“They are near,” Cyrentha said softly.
Nytherion replied, “And still apart.”
The space between them trembled.
Not breaking.
Not closing.
Just waiting.
Back in the real world—
the chamber stabilized.
The violent surge settled into controlled flow, heat no longer spiked uncontrollably, darkness no longer lashed outward. Instead, both energies moved in balance—circling, adjusting, responding.
“It’s working…” a healer whispered.
Dylan’s condition steadied.
Dramatically.
The strain on his body eased as darkness no longer fought itself internally.
Diana’s heat softened, no longer burning wild but flowing in controlled waves.
“Stabilization confirmed,” the head healer said quietly.
Three days passed.
When Diana finally moved again, it was subtle.
Her fingers twitched first.
Then her eyelids fluttered.
Slow.
Struggling.
“…She’s waking,” Kaelen said immediately.
He moved to her side before anyone else could react, voice low but steady.
“Hey… don’t rush it.”
A healer rushed off to call the others.
Kaelen carefully supported her as she tried to adjust, bringing a glass of water to her lips.
“Small sips,” he said.
Diana drank weakly.
Then her eyes finally opened fully.
She looked at him.
“…You look terrible,” she murmured faintly.
Kaelen let out a shaky laugh that broke halfway into relief.
“You too.”
Before he could stop himself, tears slipped down his face.
He turned slightly, embarrassed.
“…Just rest.”
Diana noticed immediately.
Her expression softened.
Then, despite everything, she reached out and pulled him into a weak hug.
“i***t,” she whispered. “Don’t start crying now.”
Kaelen froze.
Then exhaled shakily.
“…Shut up.”
Footsteps rushed in.
Her parents entered first.
The room changed instantly.
Relief flooded the space like air after suffocation.
Diana’s mother reached her immediately, holding her face gently.
“You’re back…”
Her father said nothing at first—just pulled her into a careful embrace.
Questions came next.
Soft.
Relieved.
Careful.
Then Theon entered.
He stopped the moment he saw her awake.
For once, he didn’t speak immediately.
Then something in him cracked.
He crossed the room and pulled her into a tight embrace.
No words.
Just silence.
And then—
tears.
Everyone froze slightly.
Theon didn’t cry.
Not like this.
Ever.
Diana blinked in shock, then slowly hugged him back.
“…You’re heavy,” she muttered weakly.
A small laugh escaped him through the tears.
“Shut up.”
And for the first time in days—
the room felt human again.
Deep within her, Cyrentha’s voice stirred gently.
“I like this.”
Diana frowned slightly.
“…Like what?”
“Their warmth,” Cyrentha said softly. “Their connection.”
A pause.
Then—
“Their family.”
Diana didn’t respond immediately.
But something in her expression softened.
Outside the chamber—
far beneath the calm—
Dylan remained asleep.
But his hand twitched faintly in the darkness.
As if something… had heard her.
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