Chapter 10: Embers of Rest and Rising Power
The flickering firelight danced across the stone walls of Nysa's secluded hideout, casting long shadows that whispered of secrets untold. Nestled deep in the mountain range beyond the Eastern Wastes, the hideout was a fortress carved into the heart of stone — undetectable to most, protected by ancient wards and powerful enchantments.
It had been a week since the ambush, a week since blood had painted the forest floor, and the dead had been left to rot in silence. For the first time since Kian had awakened in the crypt, there was peace.
Lucien had left them after the fight, stating he had "other business with old allies." With a cocky smirk and the promise of keeping a watchful eye from the shadows, he vanished into the night. That left Kian, Selene, Rai, and Nysa in the safe haven — a rare, fragile moment of calm in a world that seemed determined to keep them in constant chaos.
Kian sat in the training courtyard — or what passed for one in a mountain fortress. He was shirtless, his body gleaming with sweat, eyes closed as he meditated. Around him, swirling tendrils of dark crimson energy pulsed from his core. The power of the Nightborn was responding to him now, not just awakening in bursts during moments of crisis. It was steady. Controlled. Growing.
"Your focus is better," Nysa said, leaning against a pillar as she watched him. "But your balance is still too human."
Kian exhaled through his nose, maintaining his meditative pose. "And here I thought I was finally getting the hang of it."
Nysa chuckled lightly. "You are. But being the Nightborn is not about getting the hang of it — it's about becoming something else entirely. That takes time."
Selene sat nearby, leaning back on her hands, her eyes trained on Kian. There was something different in her gaze now. It wasn't just curiosity or fascination. It was softer. Warmer. Like she was seeing not just the power in him but the person, the broken boy trying to piece himself together.
Rai, ever the strategist, had spent most of his days poring over old scrolls and maps with Nysa. They were trying to piece together what the High Council and the other supernatural factions might do next.
"We've bought time," Rai said one evening at dinner, his tone thoughtful. "But time is never enough. They'll regroup. The Blood Hunters were sent in waves. We've only seen the first wave."
"And we survived," Selene said, brushing hair out of her eyes. "We'll survive the next, too."
Kian nodded but said nothing. His mind was elsewhere — in the flickers of dark visions he'd seen when his powers surged. Faces he didn't recognize. A city burning. A throne of bones.
---
Days Passed in Quiet, but Growth Was Not Stillness
Each day brought something new.
On the third day, Kian shattered a boulder with a single punch, shocking even Nysa. The power had surged again, but this time, he had welcomed it instead of fearing it.
On the fifth day, Selene and Kian trained together. The flirtation that had once been cloaked in sarcasm and tension began to take new form. Selene laughed more, often staying after training to talk, her fingers brushing Kian's shoulder a bit longer than necessary.
Rai noticed it but said nothing. He trusted Selene. And truthfully, he was just glad Kian was no longer isolated in his pain.
Nysa, too, was changing in small ways. She spoke more openly of the past. Of the ancient prophecies that whispered of the Nightborn. Of the war that had once nearly torn the supernatural world apart.
"You were supposed to die," she said one night as she and Kian stood atop the watchtower. "That's what the Council wanted. That's why they wiped out your bloodline. Because you — a true Nightborn — you change everything."
Kian clenched his jaw. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one asks to be born a god among monsters."
---
The Turning Point
On the seventh day, something shifted. The moon hung low and red in the sky. Selene couldn't sleep. She wandered out to the courtyard where Kian was sparring with shadows — practicing with his powers.
"You never stop training, do you?" she said softly.
He turned, smirking. "I could ask you the same about your midnight walks."
She approached slowly, then stopped just in front of him. For a long moment, neither spoke.
"I used to think you were reckless," she whispered. "Angry. Dangerous."
"I was," Kian replied.
"But now..." Her voice trembled slightly. "Now I see something else. You're becoming something... more."
Kian looked at her, really looked at her. Her eyes shimmered like moonlight on water. Without thinking, he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I'm not sure what I'm becoming," he said. "But I know you're the reason I'm still sane."
She leaned in, and for the first time, their lips met — not in passion or fire, but in quiet, trembling hope.
When they pulled apart, Selene smiled. "We should get some sleep. The world won't stay quiet forever."
"No," Kian said, glancing at the sky. "But we'll be ready when it wakes up."