That chubby, innocent-looking, overfed little gremlin.
The Ruvon could still see it in her mind—how it had just appeared in the middle of the catastrophe, plopping itself onto Moonveil's lifeless body like it belonged there, like it wasn't standing in the epicenter of pure annihilation.
And Pyris… hadn't even noticed.
She had thought, for a mont, that it was just so stray pet.
And then—
It ate the fking apocalypse.
No warning. No spellwork. No ritual. Just… open mouth, consu doomsday, problem solved. She had watched in real-ti as the storm of raw, untad, world-ending energy—sothing so volatile that even gods would think twice before touching it—was sucked away into that ridiculous little creature.
And it didn't keep it.
Didn't store it.
Didn't explode into so cosmic horror like any other being would if they tried to contain that much absolute devastation.
No.
It had redirected it.
Into the corpse.
The very dead, very deceased, very "no-longer-has-a-soul" elf.
And then—just to add a final middle finger to the natural order— it had raised its tiny paw, received so goddamn moon sphere from the heavens like it had just placed a f**king order with the cosmos, and casually shoved it into the elf's forehead.
And Moonveil ca back to life.
She had heard the sharp inhale. Had felt the shift as life—true, undeniable, impossible life—returned to what had been a corpse. Not undead. Not so resurrection spell.
Just—alive. As if she had never been gone.
And now?
Now Pyris was hugging her.
Holding her like she was the most fragile thing in the universe, trembling, breathless, as if he had just barely pulled her from the jaws of fate.
And the fluffy little anti-apocalypse?
Gone. Vanished. As if it had never been there, leaving nothing but the aftermath of an event that should not have been possible. The Ruvon stood there, staring, trying—really trying—to process what she had just witnessed.
And then she exhaled, slow and deep, pressing her fingers into her temples.
There were no words.
There was nothing she could say that would make any of this make sense.
So she did the only logical thing.
She turned around—
—and walked the fk away.
_____
Pyris had watched her go, and though he made no move to stop her, he knew—without a doubt—that he would see her again. And when he did, he would thank her properly.
That girl had thrown herself into the fire to save Moonveil. Even knowing the odds, even knowing she had no chance, she had still tried. She had fought and, yes, she had lost—had gotten her ass handed to her—but Pyris would never forget that she tried.
And Moonveil…
She was alive and Pyris left himself to believe that it was because Ruvon had bought him ti before he arrived—even if was a second or two.
Pyris held her, his grip firm yet careful, like he was afraid she'd shatter if he let go. His throat felt tight, emotions crashing over him like a relentless tide, but he forced himself to speak, voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm so sorry I was late."
Moonveil, weak but smiling, lifted a trembling hand, her fingers brushing against his cheek with a touch so light it barely felt real. Yet, to him, it was everything.
"I am alive, and that's what matters." Her voice was soft, almost ethereal, as if it carried the weight of sothing more than just words. "Thank you for saving ."
But Pyris only shook his head, his expression darkening. "You don't understand—"
She cut him off with a gentle press of her finger against his lips.
"I do." Her silver eyes glead, holding secrets beyond the present mont. "I saw everything."
His breath hitched. His eyes widened. How?
She simply smiled, that knowing, serene expression never faltering. "I am the child of the moon."
Pyris stared at her, searching for sothing in her gaze—a deeper truth, an answer, an explanation. But he found only certainty. And for now, he wouldn't press. Instead, he exhaled, letting a small smile creep onto his lips.
Moonveil, never one to let a serious mont linger for too long, tilted her head. "I didn't know you cared about this much." A teasing lilt danced in her tone.
Pyris scoffed. "I don't understand it either."
Because he didn't.
One mont, he was a student—running to save a teacher he had been interested in. And then… sothing changed. The mont he saw her dead, sothing inside him snapped, shifted, awakened. He wasn't just himself anymore. He was still Pyris, yet at the sa ti, it felt like he had beco soone else. Or perhaps…
"Reincarnation of soone!" they both exclaid in unison, as if the very idea had just clicked into place between them. They exchanged a nod, the shared understanding settling into place like the final piece of a puzzle.
Moonveil's gaze softened, her voice gentle as she spoke, "This feeling… it's not unfamiliar to ." Her words lingered, heavy with centuries of experience. "I've felt it before, many tis. But today... right now, it's stronger with you around. Almost as if..." She trailed off, her silver eyes eting his with a mixture of curiosity and certainty.
Pyris, feeling the strange connection between them pulse stronger with every breath, finally spoke, "We were lovers in so past life?"
And in that mont, it made perfect sense. The sensation, the pull that they had both felt, not just now with Moonveil but also with Seraphina. When they mated, it was as if they were reawakening sothing deep inside them—a bond that transcended this lifeti. And if there was one thing Pyris had learned to believe in, it was reincarnation.
He had co to realize that he was proof of it, at least part of him was—a soul that didn't belong entirely to this world. There was sothing else, sothing ancient, pulling at him from another ti, another place. Was this feeling an awakening? Like… like everything that had ever happened to him before was now rushing back?
He shook his head, pushing away the overwhelming thoughts. "Later."
Right now, it wasn't the mysteries of the past that mattered. What mattered was her.
With a decisive shift, Pyris wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. "Let's get the hell out of here."
Mira still wasn't back. Pyris couldn't shake the worry gnawing at the back of his mind. Whoever had killed Moonveil wasn't soone to take lightly—not even for Mira. After all, that person had dared to target the child of the moon, and Pyris was certain that person knew Selara's identity.
The thought that Mira might co back without the target filled his mind, but he pushed it away for now. There were still too many unknowns to worry about. For now, he could only focus on getting Moonveil to safety.
Everything else could wait.
_____
Away from the mortal realm, in a realm far removed from the struggles of the world below, Zaryana sat comfortably on her opulent throne, her form draped in flowing silks that shimred with a strange, ethereal glow.
"Fate, Fate, you're playing with sothing that's going to bite your ass. Oh, right, given his lust and temper, he'll just fuck all your beloved chosen children and dump them... Hehe, I can't wait!"
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