Who Is She?
1221 Words
The silence in the chamber was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the fading moonshade.
Ivy’s pulse hammered in her ears, her body trembling from the strange surge of energy that had coursed through her moments ago.
She couldn’t shake the vivid memory she’d seen—the younger, vulnerable version of Xyler, the woman’s trembling voice, the words dripping with regret.
Xyler stood motionless a few feet away, his silver eyes fixed on her as if she were some unsolvable riddle.
His usually cold, guarded expression was marred by a flicker of something else—wariness, perhaps even fear.
“What did you see?” he asked finally, his voice low and edged with steel.
Ivy hesitated, her fingers brushing against the still-warm petals of the moonshade.
The memory was so vivid, so real, but how could she explain it?
How could she describe the anguish she’d felt radiating from him in that moment?
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was like… a memory. But it wasn’t mine.”
Xyler’s jaw tightened, and he took a slow step closer, his gaze never leaving her. “Describe it.”
“There was a woman,” Ivy said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “She was kneeling in front of you. She looked… desperate. She was holding a flower—like this one—but it was wilted. You said…” She hesitated, the weight of the words settling in her chest. “You said she was your only hope.”
The air between them seemed to grow colder, the frost on the walls creeping outward in jagged lines.
Xyler’s expression hardened, the vulnerability she’d glimpsed moments ago vanishing behind a wall of ice.
“That’s impossible,” he said sharply.
“Is it?” Ivy shot back, her voice rising. “Because it felt real. I felt what you felt.”
Xyler’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, she thought he might lash out.
But instead, he turned away, his hands clenched at his sides.
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until Ivy couldn’t bear it any longer.
“Who was she?” she asked softly.
Xyler didn’t respond.
He stood with his back to her, his posture rigid, the frost around him glinting like shattered glass.
“She mattered to you,” Ivy pressed, her voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and something she couldn’t quite name. “Didn’t she?”
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, devoid of its usual edge. “She was a mistake.”
The bitterness in his tone sent a chill through Ivy, and she bit her lip to keep from pressing further.
But the question lingered in her mind: who was the woman, and what had she done to leave such a scar on Xyler?
Before Ivy could gather her thoughts, the ground beneath her feet shifted.
A low rumble echoed through the chamber, and the icy runes on the walls began to glow faintly once more.
“What now?” Ivy muttered, clutching the moonshade tightly.
Xyler turned back to her, his expression grim. “The chamber is resetting. It will seal itself soon.”
“Seal itself?” Ivy repeated, panic creeping into her voice.
“This place was never meant to be opened,” Xyler said, striding toward her. “If we don’t leave now, it will trap us here.”
Ivy’s heart raced as she scrambled to follow him, her boots slipping on the slick floor.
The runes flared brighter, the air growing colder with each passing second.
“Where are we supposed to go?” she asked, her breath forming small clouds in the frigid air.
Xyler didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, he raised his hand, and a narrow path of ice formed beneath their feet, leading toward a faint glow in the distance.
“This way,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Ivy hesitated, glancing back at the shattered remains of the sentinels and the eerie chamber that had nearly been her tomb. She didn’t trust Xyler—not fully—but she didn’t have much of a choice.
The path was narrow and treacherous, the ice slick beneath her boots.
Ivy focused on each step, her breaths shallow as she tried to keep her balance.
Behind her, the rumbling grew louder, the walls trembling as the chamber began to collapse in on itself.
“Hurry,” Xyler called over his shoulder, his silver hair glinting in the faint light.
“I’m trying!” Ivy snapped, wobbling dangerously as the ice shifted beneath her.
She stumbled, her foot slipping on the slick surface.
A startled cry escaped her lips as she fell forward, but before she could hit the ground, a strong hand gripped her arm.
“Careful, little thief,” Xyler said, his voice low and laced with amusement.
Ivy glared up at him, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and irritation. “I wouldn’t have fallen if you’d made this path less slippery.”
Xyler arched a brow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Do you always complain this much when someone saves your life?”
Ivy opened her mouth to retort, but the rumbling grew louder, cutting her off. Xyler pulled her to her feet, his grip firm and unyielding, before continuing down the path.
The glow ahead grew brighter, and Ivy’s chest tightened with a strange mix of relief and apprehension. What lay beyond this place? And what would happen once they left?
As they reached the edge of the path, the light engulfed them, and Ivy felt the ground shift beneath her feet once more. The air around her warmed slightly, the icy chill replaced by a crisp, biting wind.
When the light faded, they were standing at the edge of the forest. The towering trees loomed overhead, their branches heavy with snow, and the faint glow of the moon illuminated the frozen landscape.
“We’re back,” Ivy murmured, her breath hitching as she took in her surroundings.
Xyler didn’t respond.
He stood silently beside her, his silver eyes scanning the forest with a sharp, calculating gaze.
But before Ivy could feel the relief of their escape, she noticed something strange. The moonshade in her hand had stopped glowing, its petals now a dull, lifeless blue.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, holding it up for Xyler to see.
He turned to her, his expression unreadable. “The bond is still intact,” he said quietly. “But it’s… different.”
“Different how?” Ivy pressed, her grip tightening on the flower.
Xyler’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “It’s not just tied to you anymore. It’s tied to us.”
The weight of his words settled over her like a heavy blanket, and Ivy’s chest tightened as she met his gaze.
There was something unspoken between them now, something fragile and dangerous.
Before she could respond, a low growl echoed through the forest, sending a shiver down her spine. Ivy’s eyes darted toward the shadows, her heart pounding.
“What was that?” she whispered.
Xyler’s expression hardened, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. “We’re not alone.”
- Writer
