This is clearly a test. Not by Nyssa, but by the realm itself. The fog, the dead air, the absence of even a single echo—it’s all designed to force us into a particular pattern. It’s a riddle that doesn’t want to be solved, or maybe it’s one of those mundane logic puzzles that only mortals find amusing, the kind with one solution and a hundred ways to get it wrong. In the past, I’d have simply shattered the realm and been done with it, but Nyssa’s will is the spine of this construct, and she’s nothing if not stubborn.
We can be separated, but eventually, we will always find her. That’s the way these things go; it’s the law of immortal drama. We will always find her. It’s the one constant. We circle back to the centre of her gravity. The trouble is, she doesn’t want to be found. At least, not by us.
I halt so abruptly that Air, who’d been trailing me like a balloon on a string, walks straight into my back. The collision is pitiful. He’s so light that I barely register the impact, but he lets out a dramatic little “oof” anyway.
“Watch it, Frank,” I snap, keeping my eyes on the swirling nothingness.
He rubs his nose, blinking up at me. “You stopped,” he whines. There’s a tremor in his voice, and I realise I’ve got him more than a little terrified. Gods of Air were always the most fragile, which is ironic, considering they’re everywhere at once.
“I figured it out.” I say it like I’m blaming him personally for not having solved it already.
Air sidles up beside me, clutching the edges of his sleeves. “Figured what out?”
I ignore him for a moment. I want to make sure my theory holds. I take a step forward, imagining Nyssa ahead of me, just out of sight. The fog thickens, swirling into a literal wall that smacks me in the face with a damp, cold slap. I back off, then try again, but this time, I strip the memory of her out of my thoughts and simply focus on moving. Not toward her, specifically, but toward whatever comes next.
The wall hesitates. It doesn’t collapse, but it trembles. For the first time since we got stuck here, the realm feels uncertain.
I nod, satisfied, and let my power unfurl, just a bit. I feel the static on my skin as I shape my intent. “If I chase Nyssa, the fog thickens. It’s a defence. Her will wants distance from us.” It’s almost elegant, in a way: the harder you chase, the more she’s out of reach. The story of our fucking lives.
Air thinks for a moment, then snaps his fingers. “It’s like a closed circuit. The more power you pour in, the more resistance you get.”
I blink at him. “Did you just come up with something helpful?”
He shrugs, almost bashful.
I sigh. “Right. So, we stop chasing Nyssa. We chase the exit. We align our intent with hers. She wants out. I want out. The intent matches. The realm stops fighting us.”
Air grins, just a little, like I’ve given him a gold star. “So… we just walk?”
“Not just walk,” I say, spreading my hands. “We ignore her entirely, even in thought. We don’t try to find her, we try to leave.”
Air’s face falls. “But… don’t you want to find her?”
He sounds so pathetic, I can’t help but snort. “I want her safe. If she wants to be alone, fine. But she won’t be for long.”
I square my shoulders and start walking, this time with no expectation, no image of Nyssa, not even a name in my mind. I focus on the feeling of the outside: the cold snap of the real world. I picture the exit, nothing else.
The fog hesitates. It doesn’t vanish, but it draws back just a little, swirling around us instead of pressing in. It’s like a petulant child forced to clean its room.
Air follows, keeping pace. He tries to hum a song, but the sound falls flat in the dead air. “I think it’s working,” he says, voice thin with hope.
“Of course it’s working,” I mutter.
We walk forward, and the fog grows thinner with every step. Sometimes, it tries to distract us with little ghostly flickers. I ignore them all. That’s the trick: indifference. The less I care, the more the realm yields.
The air feels brittle, like something’s about to snap. I like it. It means things are about to get interesting.
Chapter 27
Dreven
Pissed doesn’t even begin to cover how she makes me feel. She walked away from me, shrouded me in fog and then vanished. So did the other two fuckers. Although I can hardly blame them. This is all Nyssa. It smells like her shampoo. It is a petty touch. A reminder that she exists everywhere in this mist. I reach out and close my hand around the fog. It feels cold and damp against my palm. She walled me out.
I stand still and let my shadows extend into the floor. If I cannot walk through her wall, I will slide under it.
“Show me the cracks,” I command the darkness beneath the obsidian.
The shadows jitter. They don’t obey. They vibrate against the stone. Her authority overrides mine here. She holds the command. It irritates me at the same time I feel a sense of pride in her. If she would only accept who she is.Whatshe is.
