Morning light spilled through the curtains, painting the room in pale gold. For a while, Eland'orr simply lay there, listening to the rhythm of Freiyah's breathing beside him. The night had left him with a strange weight inside his chest—not heavy, but alive, humming, like a hidden current beneath his skin.
By noon, he began experiencing strange signs. His senses felt sharper. The ticking of a wall clock seemed louder than before, every second deliberate, almost intrusive. When he stood, the floor felt firmer beneath his feet, as if gravity itself had shifted in subtle ways.
He shook his head, unsettled. Maybe it's just my imagination.
But Freiyah noticed. She watched him from across the room, a knowing calm in her eyes.
"It has begun," she said softly.
Eland'orr frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Your body is adapting. The Lioh is merging with your DNA. At first, it's barely noticeable. Heightened senses, bursts of strength, unusual stamina. These are the whispers of your evolution."
To test her words, he lifted the teakettle sitting on the counter. He had done so a hundred times before—but this time, it felt weightless, almost fragile in his grip.
His heart pounded. "This… this isn't normal."
"No," Freiyah agreed. "It's not. It's the beginning."
For the next few days, the changes deepened. His appetite surged, yet his body processed food with startling efficiency—burning energy faster, building muscle without effort. He ran his hand along his arms and chest, noticing new firmness beneath his skin.
At night, his dreams shifted—no longer restless fragments, but vivid visions of a people with emerald eyes and voices like thunder. He woke drenched in sweat, heart racing, yet strangely calm, as if some part of him was recognizing home.
On the fourth night, he sat by the window, staring out at the city lights. His reflection in the glass startled him. His irises—once brown—now carried a faint green shimmer, catching the neon glow outside.
"Freiyah…" he whispered, his voice trembling.
She moved behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders. "Don't fear it. This is your bloodline answering the call. You're not losing yourself—you're becoming what you were always meant to be."
Her words steadied him, but the truth pressed heavily on his chest. The man who had walked into that café days ago was gone. Something new was being born—slowly, silently, beneath his skin.