Strange... Florian thought.
"Strange, indeed," Ol’gaz murmured with unease.
Just monts ago, Florian had been wary of the emperor’s intentions. He had seen Emperor Kaan as an enemy—soone he could never trust, even after severing ties with Eira. The emperor would never be a friend.
And yet, sothing had shifted.
Now, Florian looked at Kaan in a different light. There was sothing about him—sothing familiar. A pull, subtle yet undeniable, urged Florian to step closer. He wasn’t sure what had changed, but he found himself staring at the emperor’s outstretched hand.
"Join ," Emperor Kaan said, his voice rich with warmth.
Even the way he spoke now pleased Florian. It was as if Emperor Kaan were soone he had longed to see again—a long-lost friend, returned at last.
"It must be whatever he drank," Ol’gaz muttered, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. He was trying to snap Florian back to reality, but even he felt the creeping sway of emotion. "There’s sothing in it, I’m sure!"
Yet certainty ant nothing in the face of what they felt. No matter how much Ol’gaz fought it, no matter how much logic told them to resist, an undeniable truth settled over them: Emperor Kaan belonged among them.
"You’re not alone," Emperor Kaan said gently. "You have ."
Three of us, Florian thought. The idea took root as if it had always been there, growing stronger with every passing second. It was like falling into a dream—one he didn’t want to wake from.
His hand moved, seemingly of its own accord, reaching for the emperor’s palm. Ol’gaz clenched his fists, fighting against the pull, but even he wasn’t immune. A deep longing filled them both, eroding their doubts.
In the end, resistance was futile.
Florian’s fingers closed around Emperor Kaan’s hand. "Join you... for what?" he asked, his mind still grasping for reason. A small, distant part of him questioned the emperor’s true purpose.
It had to be about Eira. It had to be about the unification plan.
But as Florian t the emperor’s gaze, another thought took hold—stronger, deeper, and far more dangerous. Did it even matter anymore?
"We’re going to rebuild this world. You and I," Emperor Kaan said. His grip on Florian’s hand tightened, and with a gentle tap, he offered a warm, almost fatherly smile.
The tenderness in that smile stirred sothing deep in Florian’s heart. It was strange—comforting, even. For a mont, it felt as if he weren’t speaking with an emperor at all, but with... Riona.
"This is wrong!" Ol’gaz snapped, his voice sharp with urgency. He fought against the invisible force pulling them in, desperately trying to wrench Florian away. He knew the emperor’s intentions weren’t pure.
It was a fact—one both he and Florian understood. The witches and wizards had tried to control the demon under this very emperor’s order. They had wanted to use him for their own ends.
And yet, despite knowing all of this, despite the screaming warnings in his mind, Ol’gaz was powerless.
"You deserve the world," Emperor Kaan said, his voice smooth and unwavering.
Sothing cracked inside Florian. A longing he hadn’t even realized existed rushed to the surface. He felt seen. He felt loved.
The emperor leaned in slightly, his words deliberate, slow—each one seeping into Florian’s very being. "And I will give you that."
Florian swallowed hard. "How?"
He wasn’t asking how the emperor would give him the world. No—what he really ant was, how could Kaan make him feel like a friend when he clearly wasn’t?
"Let’s go. You don’t belong here—you belong with now," Emperor Kaan murmured, his voice soft yet firm. With a gentle push against Florian’s back, he urged him forward.
***
"Riona, is that you?"
Florian’s voice echoed in her ears, soft but strained, cutting through the darkness like a thread. She turned frantically, reaching out with trembling hands, but the space around her seed endless, her fingers brushing against nothing but cold air.
"Riona, I’m bad now."
Her chest tightened. She shook her head, willing him to hear her unspoken words—that he was her brother, that nothing he did could change the love she had for him. She opened her mouth, desperate to speak, to call his na, to beg him to co back, but no sound escaped. Her throat felt sealed shut, her voice swallowed by the void.
"I’ve done a lot of sins," Florian murmured. His voice cracked, heavy with regret. "I should be punished. I don’t deserve to live."
No. Don’t say that! You’re still my brother. It’s okay. You’re not alone. I won’t leave you.
Her thoughts scread, but they stayed trapped inside her. Panic gripped her as she stumbled forward blindly, trying to find him. The darkness seed to stretch endlessly, suffocating her.
All she could hear was the sound of Florian’s sobbing—ragged, broken, each gasp like a knife twisting inside her chest.
She ran faster, her heart aching with every step, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t reach him. The void swallowed everything—her voice, her love, her regret—leaving only his sorrow to echo back at her.
"Riona, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry," Florian choked out between sobs. His voice broke, raw and unsteady. "I didn’t an what I said to you. I never hated you. You’re the best sister in the world."
I know, Riona thought, tears slipping down her cheeks. She wished he could hear her, wished her silence didn’t feel so heavy, so useless. None of it mattered now—not the words, not the guilt. All she wanted was to reach him, to pull him back.
I should’ve seen through it. You weren’t angry, you were scared. I should’ve known. I’m the one who should be sorry.
"It’s too late for regret now," Florian whispered.
No, her mind scread.
"It’ll be over soon. Save yourself."
What are you saying? No. No, you don’t get to do this. Don’t you dare! Whatever you’re thinking—stop it! I’m coming. I’m not leaving you, Flo. Please, just hold on!
There was a pause, the kind that steals the air from the room.
"I love you," he said softly.
***
"FLO!!!"
Riona’s scream tore from her throat as she bolted upright in bed.
Her body shook violently, hands clutching at the damp bed sheets like they were the only thing keeping her anchored. Her clothes clung to her, soaked through with sweat, and beads trickled down her temples, tracing cold lines along her face. Her chest heaved.
Wide, bloodshot eyes darted frantically from side to side, trying to make sense of where she was.
The suffocating darkness was gone.
Then, through the haze, a face appeared—Thorin. He grabbed her trembling arms, his eyes bright with relief. "Finally! You’re awake!"
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