The ship banked, engines burning blue, and I set a course for the rendezvous.
Let the games begin.
Zaph hadn’t been gonethat long. Hours, maybe. But already the chamber felt too big, too empty. I told myself it was ridiculous; he wasn’t my boyfriend, and this wasn’t some sappy human romance where I counted minutes until the guy texted back. Still, I caught myself glancing toward the door more than once, waiting for a shadow that didn’t appear.
I sat in the huge library, if you could even call it that.Librarymade me think of dusty shelves, paperbacks stacked crooked, and the smell of ink and glue. This was something else entirely.
The chamber stretched up and up, a cathedral of knowledge. Towers of crystal spines rose like trees, each one humming faintly, alive with stored memory. Holograms shimmered between them, flickering windows of history that dissolved and reformed when you touched them. One moment, I brushed my fingers across a paneland watched a star bloom and die in a heartbeat, the next an entire alien species flickered into being before vanishing like smoke.
Holovids hovered in the air, scenes playing on loops, wars fought on worlds I couldn’t name, cities grown out of light, oceans that spanned skies instead of seas. It was overwhelming and intoxicating all at once. And lonely.
For the life of me, I couldn't imagine Zaph here. Too much stillness, too much thought. He’d probably mutter about wasted space and then lean against a column, arms crossed, looking like he owned the whole damn universe. The thought made my chest ache in ways I didn’t want to examine.
I rubbed at my temple and muttered, “Seriously, with all this, you guys still don’t have interstellar cell service? Priorities, people.”
That was when the footsteps came, echoing faintly against the crystalline floor. I turned, half-hoping, half-dreading.
Not Zaph.
Captain Ilythas approached, his armor throwing back the soft glow of the holograms. He stopped at the edge of my table, posture sharp, face unreadable.
“Nythor, Oracle of the Abyss, wishes to see you,” he said.
Unease rippled down my spine. Zaph hadn’t said a word about visitors. And the title alone—Oracle of the Abyss—was enough to make my skin prickle. I could all too well picture the frantically screamingman: Aelyth, Aelyth.Oracle of the Abyssdidn’t exactly scream cozy tea-time chat either. Of all the gods, he seemed to be the creepiest. Sure, Thyros and Dravok had their moments too, but Nythor? But Nythor's vibes werecreepy, creepy.
I rubbed my palms on my thighs. “Uh… right. Okay. Sure. Why not?”
Ilythas' eyes softened, just slightly. “If you are uncomfortable, you do not need to receive him. But if you do… I will be here.”
I met his gaze, searching for any sign that this was unusual, dangerous, or something I should refuse. But he just stood there, calm as a mountain.
Loneliness nipped at me again, sharper now. If I had to wait days—or longer—for Zaph’s return without being able to reach him, maybe a little company, even from a creepy oracle, was better than nothing.
Still, my gut twisted.
“Yeah,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “Okay. Let him in. But you stay right there, Ilythas. If things get weird, you’re my backup plan.”
His mouth twitched, the closest I’d ever seen him come to a smile. “Always, my lady.”
The wordalwaysechoed longer than it should have, steadying me as the air in the library shifted. The holovids flickered, a ripple of distortion running through the walls of crystal towers like they’d all taken a collective breath.
Nythor didn’twalkin so much as appear, his outline stretching, unraveling, and then knitting back together like a shadow deciding to wear fleshfor a little while. His hair was dark, his eyes… I shuddered; his eyes were wrong. Not just black, not just void, but fractured with glimmers, like he was looking at a thousand versions of me at once.
“Little spark,” he said, in a sing-song voice, whose notes made my skin crawl. “You sit among echoes and wonder why the silence weighs so heavy.”
I swallowed, darting a glance at Ilythas. He stood solid as stone by the door, hand resting casually—but not really—where I supposed his invisible sword… whathovered? Good. Backup plan in place.
“I wasn’t wondering anything,” I said, sharper than I felt. “I was just… browsing.” I waved a hand at the flickering holovids, one of which obligingly replayed a supernova like fireworks.
Nythor tilted his head, his smile stretched too wide, too knowing. “Browsing truths mortals were never meant to hold. Dangerous habits, little spark. Dangerous appetites.”
My pulse jumped, but I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms to cover it. “Yeah, well, browsing is all I’ve got while I’m on house arrest. Unless you’ve come to check out a book, in which case you should know the late fees are brutal.”
The Oracle laughed, too loud, too delighted. It wasn’t a sound that belonged in this world. “Ah, yes. The sharp tongue. Zapharos shields you like treasure, and yet your words are blades enough.”
That made me sit up straighter. “You’ve seen him?”
“Always,” Nythor whispered, and the word made theholograms flicker again, warping into scenes I couldn’t understand. “The Nox Eternum does not stop at walls or wars. It whispers. It shows me. And you…” His eyes narrowed, fever-bright. “You shine where he is blackest.”
