⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Eldoria pulsed.
The elven kingdom, rebuilt from the ashes of Cirgo, shone like a freshly washed jewel — alive, organized, too perfect to seem real. Once, elves lived scattered in colonies; over time, they united and gave birth to Eldoria, a center so prosperous it grew at a frightening pace.
Wide streets coiled beneath flowering trees, red trams glided over smooth rails, and the air was cool and scented with the fruits sold at every corner. Everything breathed in harmony.
For Niyx, it was a nauseating perfume.
She walked among the passersby holding a pastry in her hands — golden, warm, and dusted with sugar. The name echoed in her head: churro. She bit into it with a soft crack; the warm sweetness broke, for an instant, the boredom consuming her.
"Delicious…" she murmured, sugar glittering on her lips.
Passersby averted their eyes — some curious, others simply distracted. Her body drew attention without asking for it: light blue hair, pale skin, sharp pink eyes, a short green top ending just above her stomach's curve. The black pants, ripped in strategic points, seemed made to provoke — beauty built to disarm instinct before reason.
Niyx didn't want to be beautiful, but she was fully aware that she was.
The laughter, the rustling leaves, the perfume of flowers and sweat — all together formed a melody that made her sick. She heard the rhythm of other hearts: subtle acceleration, restrained fear, fleeting fascination. Every micro-pulse irritated her skin.
If she weren't on a mission, she would've already ripped off the heads of everyone who came near.
'They call this civilization…' she thought, venomously. 'They're just decorated sheep.'
The elves that the Pillars had freed from the slave traders weeks ago should have already returned. Lorian had sent her to confirm the rumors. For that single reason, Niyx tried not to kill anyone — a difficult restraint, since one wrong move could ruin everything.
She sat on a bench beneath the shade of a tree; the leaves swayed, and for a moment, she pretended to breathe like a human would.
The pastry was gone, and her boredom returned almost immediately.
'How tedious…' she thought.
Then she heard a small, hesitant voice.
"Uh… miss… you stepped on my toy…"
She blinked and looked down.
A small elf, no more than seven years old, was staring at her with a mix of fear and politeness. Near her foot, pieces of colorful wood lay broken.
Niyx took a second longer than she should have to react. Then she smiled — too slowly, as if remembering the gesture by instinct, not habit.
"Ah…" she stood up, scratching the back of her neck. "I'm sorry, little one. I'll buy you another one, okay?"
The boy hesitated, then nodded. His gaze was too pure, annoyingly clean. She found that both fascinating and dangerous.
But then something changed. A distinct scent pierced through the street noise and hit her senses with the weight of a forgotten memory.
Her heart stopped for a moment. Her blood heated up.
'That smell…'
She turned her head, slowly.
Across the street, between the reflection of glass and the flow of people, walked a boy with long black hair, accompanied by a small pink orb of pulsating energy — a spirit.
And the boy…
The boy carried the same scent of flesh as hers.
Niyx's breathing slowed.
She felt her pupils dilate, her muscles vibrating beneath her skin.
That presence struck her in layers: familiarity, threat, curiosity.
'A metamorph… here?'
He looked civilized — young, distracted, his gaze too gentle for someone of their kind.
But Niyx could sense what hid beneath his skin: chaos and instinct.
Did he not know what he was? Or was he pretending not to?
A smile crept across her face. Wide and macabre.
'Are you strong, little one?'
The air around her shifted. The birds went silent for a second, until the elven boy in front of her took a step back.
"Are you okay, miss?" he asked, trembling.
The sound shattered the spell.
Niyx blinked, took a deep breath — and the monster retreated, for now.
She laughed softly, almost sweetly.
"I'm fine, dear." She crouched down, picking up the toy's broken pieces. "Let's throw this away, okay? Then you can show me another one you want. I'll buy it for you, deal?"
The boy smiled, relieved.
As they walked to the trash bin, Niyx cast one last glance across the street — the metamorph and the spirit had already vanished into the crowd.
But it didn't matter. His scent was now part of her.
And as the wind brushed through the woman's blue hair, a soft, almost affectionate thought crossed her mind:
'Forgive me, little metamorph… but I'll destroy you with all the love in the world.'
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Niyx yawned.
That boy had dragged her too far, after choosing a new toy from one of the kingdom's shopping arcades.
His mother eventually appeared — desperate, searching for her son. Niyx understood; anyone would suspect. But being accused of kidnapping wasn't exactly good for the reputation of a "tourist." So she explained the situation — not patiently, but clearly enough to avoid greater trouble.
After all the commotion, she only wanted to leave.
Her desire to fight, to see blood, had vanished completely. The whole ordeal only reinforced how much she hated this place.
'What a cursed place.'
A sudden spasm ran through her — a sharp reminder of her mission: gather information, confirm the rumors, prepare the next step.
By the end of the day, she hadn't heard anything useful. She couldn't stand walking among so many despicable beings any longer. Niyx didn't care about the plan anymore. But she also couldn't just kill everyone and destroy the kingdom.
She bit her lip and clicked her tongue.
'Damn it! I can't do anything in this cursed place! I want to fight!'
She sat on a bench in the square, breathing heavily, hands pressing against her head. Her chest rose and fell fast — her false heart beating harder than it should.
'Stop it… you're not real. Stop making me feel this anxiety.'
From the outside, she looked like a nervous woman trying to calm herself. Inside, Niyx was waging war against her own body. Her human disguise was perfect — pulse, warmth, sweat, emotional reactions. But she refused to feel. She didn't know how. She didn't want to.
Passersby looked at her with worry. Some with caution. She could feel every gaze, every breath — and she wanted to kill them for it.
'…'
'That smell…'
She suddenly raised her head, startling a nearby elf. A familiar scent cut through the air — something that made her smile again that same day.
'The little metamorph is nearby!'
Her malicious aura began to leak uncontrollably. Her eyes widened, her smile stretched — wide and dangerous.
Niyx bolted into a sprint, guided only by scent.
Her heart pounded with joy, her mind blank. She dodged everything and everyone easily, moving too fast to be noticed.
She leapt to the top of a building, continued across rooftops, until she stopped atop a residential complex. A few elves were there enjoying the afternoon, but she ignored them completely. She walked straight to the edge of the wooden railing and looked down.
'There he is!'
Her whole body shivered. Her hands trembled as they gripped the wood, which creaked under the pressure.
"Hey, creature. Whatever you're doing, stop now."
The firm voice came from behind. Niyx blinked, breaking from her trance. She turned — and met the cold, empty gaze of Erebos.
The blond man watched her with disdain, as always. Lifeless blue eyes. She sometimes wondered how he saw the world… but she didn't like him. Too human to spark anything but contempt.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
Erebos sighed. "I should be asking you that. They sent me to watch you, to make sure you don't do anything stupid."
"I don't do stupid things." She crossed her arms. "This place is unbearably boring."
"But it seems you found something that excites you," he said, stepping closer, his voice low, almost a whisper. "You're scaring the locals with that bizarre desire of yours."
Niyx raised an eyebrow.
"Desire? What are you talking about? I'm not after mating. I just saw someone I want to fight."
Erebos walked to the edge, looking down. Niyx pointed.
"That one. The boy with black hair. A metamorph."
Erebos let out a restrained laugh. "Just what we needed. One of you is already too much. Don't tell me you plan to invite him out — I couldn't handle another one of your kind in the group."
"You don't understand, human." Her tone was calm, but her eyes burned. "He's just a cub… but his power is exceptional for his age. I didn't have that before my first birthday. I want to fight him, I think it will make me…"
She stopped — her posture shifting, the rest of the sentence fading. For some reason, she didn't want to finish it.
"A cub…" Erebos watched her for a moment, then grimaced. "You're practically drooling over a cub of your species. Disgusting."
"Shut up. It's nothing like that, I told you." She looked away, irritated. "I haven't heard any useful rumors. What do you think?"
"We'll wait a few more days," he replied, turning his gaze to the horizon. "Then probably move to plan B."
"Oh no, damn it."
"Orders from the boss." Erebos crossed his arms. "But he's giving you a little leeway. You can hunt bandits and do whatever you want with them — as long as you take them outside the kingdom and no one sees you."
Niyx's eyes gleamed. "Oh! Now that's interesting!"
"'No one sees you,' Niyx." He raised an eyebrow. "And dress a little less… conspicuous."
She smiled teasingly.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Want my body, Erebos? Just so you know, I don't like you that much."
"I'd kill myself the moment such a thought crossed my mind."
He turned and walked toward the edge.
"And leave the metamorph alone. There'll be an auction soon. We're taking part. Until then — no trouble."
"And after that?"
"When the boss gives the orders, we'll know. Until then, just wander around."
Erebos jumped from the building and vanished before hitting the ground.
'Show-off.'
Niyx looked down again. The boy was with a spirit and two humans — both with red hair and dark skin.
'What a strange group. So he has friends, huh?'
A smile curved her lips. A bright idea bloomed in her mind.
'Wa ha ha! I'm a genius! It's perfect!'
She jumped off the building and disappeared in an instant, leaving the elves around her in shock.
Only one thought remained among them:
"These tourists get weirder every year."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅