Chapter 69
951 Words
Silence filled the healing wing.
Diana lay unmoving.
Her body remained still against the soft glow of healing magic, her breathing faint, steady—but distant, as though she were somewhere far beyond their reach.
In another chamber—
Dylan was no different.
Yet the air around him felt heavier.
And then—
they were no longer there.
Dylan stood in darkness.
No ground.
No sky.
Just an endless void stretching in all directions, silent and suffocating.
“You called me.”
The voice did not echo.
It existed.
Dylan turned.
And saw it.
A massive dragon stood before him, its form darker than the void itself, its presence overwhelming yet controlled.
Its eyes burned faintly—
not with fire—
but with something deeper.
“I am Nytherion.”
Dylan’s chest tightened.
“…What are you?”
Nytherion’s gaze did not waver.
“I am what you become.”
Silence followed.
Heavy.
“You reached for power,” the dragon continued. “And I answered.”
Dylan frowned slightly. “Then why—does it feel like I’m losing control?”
Nytherion tilted its head slightly.
“Because you do not yet understand the cost.”
A pause.
Then—
“You are not the first.”
Dylan’s eyes sharpened.
“I have been bound before,” Nytherion said calmly. “Twice.”
“And they failed.”
The words landed heavily.
“They sought to wield me,” the dragon continued, its voice lowering. “To bend power without restraint. To dominate what they did not respect.”
“And so they fell.”
Dylan’s jaw tightened slightly. “…Because they were weak?”
“No.”
Nytherion stepped closer.
“They fell because they were foolish.”
The darkness shifted subtly around them.
“They could not withstand what they awakened.”
A silence followed.
Then—
Nytherion’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“And you?”
Dylan stilled.
“Will you be the same?”
Before he could answer—
something pulled.
A presence.
Faint.
Distant.
But there.
Dylan’s breath caught slightly.
“…What is that?”
Nytherion’s eyes flickered.
“You feel it.”
The void seemed to ripple.
“Your other half.”
Heat.
Light.
Flame.
Diana stood within a burning expanse, fire swirling around her in controlled waves, not destructive—but alive.
And within it—
A presence.
“You awaken.”
Diana turned.
A massive phoenix stood before her, its feathers glowing with brilliant flame, its form radiant yet steady.
“I am Cyrentha.”
Diana’s voice came out softer than expected. “…What… happened to me?”
Cyrentha regarded her calmly.
“You crossed the edge.”
A pause.
“And I answered.”
Diana’s brows furrowed slightly.
“I do not rise without cause,” Cyrentha continued. “I do not awaken without necessity.”
The flames shifted gently around them.
“You did not survive.”
A beat.
“You were reborn.”
Diana’s chest tightened slightly.
“…Why me?”
Cyrentha’s gaze softened—just slightly.
“I was bound before,” she said. “To one who stood beside your blood.”
Diana’s eyes widened faintly.
“When his time ended, I did not vanish. I remained. Cocooned. Waiting.”
“For you.”
The fire pulsed once.
“I take form as needed. I follow the shape of my host. I remain unseen… until the moment demands otherwise.”
Diana swallowed slowly.
“…And now?”
“Now,” Cyrentha said quietly, “you carry me.”
A pause.
Then—
something shifted.
Diana stilled.
“…Do you feel that?”
The flames flickered unevenly.
A pull.
Distant.
Unreachable.
Cyrentha’s wings shifted slightly.
“Yes.”
Diana’s voice dropped. “…What is it?”
Cyrentha’s gaze deepened.
“The one you are bound to.”
In the real world—
everything reacted.
Heat surged.
Darkness followed.
Flames flickered violently within Diana’s chamber as shadows deepened unnaturally around Dylan.
Healers stepped back in alarm.
“What’s happening—?”
“They’re reacting—!”
The air warped slightly between both rooms.
Unstable.
Unbalanced.
And no one understood why.
Elsewhere—
concern spread quickly.
After checking on the wounded, the elders gathered with Kaelen and Theon.
“You’re certain?” Herald asked.
Theon nodded once, despite the strain in his body.
“…We saw it.”
“Both of them,” Kaelen added quietly.
“A phoenix.”
“And a dark dragon.”
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Maltida’s expression hardened slightly. “…That combination should not exist.”
“And yet it does,” Dylan’s parent said quietly.
Without another word—
they moved.
To the archives.
Ancient texts were pulled.
Scrolls unraveled.
Dust disturbed.
They searched.
Back in the healing wing—
the head healer stood still.
Watching.
Thinking.
Then—
something clicked.
“…I’ve seen this before.”
All eyes turned to him.
“A long time ago,” he continued. “In a text I studied… with my wife.”
He turned slightly toward the chambers.
“When two opposing forces are bound—yet separated…”
“They destabilize.”
A pause.
“They are not failing.”
His gaze sharpened slightly.
“They are incomplete.”
Silence fell.
“…What are you suggesting?” Herald asked.
The healer exhaled slowly.
“We bring them together.”
Tension rose immediately.
“That’s risky,” Maltida said.
“Yes,” he agreed.
“But leaving them apart may be worse.”
A brief pause.
Then—
“Prepare a shared chamber.”
And as the order was given—
within two separate worlds—
two powers stirred,
drawn toward something they could not yet reach.
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