Pov: Auren
I'd been here for two days.
The planet was lush and wild.
It shouldn't exist. Even the air was strange. Sweet on the tongue, like honey.
And Kaelira…
She was just as odd as the planet she lived on.
One moment she'd be running around barefoot, laughing at everything. The next, she's catch a snake mid-lunge without flinching, acting more curious than alarmed. There was something about her. Almost childlike, innocence without the ignorance. She asked an endless amount of questions, relentless like a waterfall.
No filter. No fear. She was direct and absolutely sincere. Did she trust my answers so easily because she didn't understand the concept of a lie?
She didn't lower her guard, but that was because she didn't have one.
I didn't know what she was. She had told me she couldn't remember her past just that she had always been here.
Then there was Damian.
He watched me. He didn't like me or trust me. So he was always nearby, always listening, always judging. I didn't trust him either, but that's what came with my job as a celestial warrior.
I wasn't supposed to trust easily. Our distrust for each other led to a sort of mutual understanding. He didn't try to drive me off, at least not seriously. He just hovered. Loomed. Growled. Snorted when I to explain things Kaelira's never heard of.
There was something magnetic about him though. Not just the power coming off him or the danger, but the way he moved. As if he was always one second from striking.
And the way he looked at Kaelira. As if she was the only creature worth protecting.
I respected it.
…or did I envy it?
Kaelira darted ahead, chasing a glowing butterfly-like creature through the underbrush, giggling as it flitted from tree to tree. She disappeared briefly into the bioluminescent trees, leaving me alone with the wolf.
"She doesn't know what danger looks like, does she?" I asked dryly.
"She doesn't have to," he replied without looking at me. "That's my job."
"She follows you without question. Blind loyalty is dangerous."
"She trusts me because I've earned it, golden boy." Damian turned, stepping closer. His voice dropped, edged with something sharp. "I don't trust things that shine too brightly. They usually burn."
I looked down at him. "And I don't trust things that growl in the dark. They usually bite."
Our eyes locked. Neither of us backed down. Just as the tension reached a razor edge, Kaelira's voice cut through the air. "Ren, come look! I haven't shown you this yet! These mushrooms glow when you poke them!"
A silly nickname but I had let it slide. Today, she'd insisted on showing me her favorite places.
She grabbed my wrist without warning and declared, "You need to see the pretty parts. You're always so serious."
"I'm a soldier," I said.
"And I'm barefoot," she countered, skipping ahead like that was a valid argument. Apparently, it was.
First stop: The Glass Lake.
Exactly what it sounded like—a silken stretch of water that reflected the sky.
Petals floated on the surface, and stones glowed beneath it. Kaelira crouched beside the lake and tossed in a seed she'd found. It sprouted instantly, blooming into a blue lily with silver veins.
She turned to me like she expected applause. Damian sat nearby, arms crossed, always watching.
Next: The Thunder Cliffs.
Massive slabs of rock rising toward the heavens. The air buzzed here—thick and charged, like a breath waiting to be exhaled. The sound wasn't exactly thunder—it was deeper. Slower. Like the planet itself was breathing. Or growling.
Kaelira stood near the edge, arms outstretched, smiling into the wind. "I like it when the sky talks back," she said.
I didn't ask what she meant.
Last: The Glowing Grove.
By nightfall, we reached a forest of obsidian-barked trees with leaves that pulsed like they were alive.
Strange creatures peeked out from glowing hollows, unafraid. Kaelira wove through it like she belonged—asking questions, laughing, and existing freely. I answered some. Dodged others. And somewhere between a debate about edible flowers and a question about Earth fruit, I realized something.
I was comfortable.
And it had been a long time since I'd felt that.
But peace never lasted.
Not with Damian.
We argued constantly—strategy, morality, or nothing at all. He'd growl. I'd mock. He'd roll his eyes. I'd smirk.
Sarcasm was our shared language. Neither of us would admit we were fluent.
We were walking near the grove's edge, vines glowing faintly around us.
It was quiet.
Peaceful.
Until Damian opened his mouth. Again.
Kaelira crouched ahead, humming softly, trying to coax a spiny creature into her hand.
"You don't wait for danger to strike. You strike first. Always," Damian said.
I stopped walking. "That's not a strategy. That's fear pretending to be control."
He turned, eyes gleaming. "And hesitation pretending to be morality gets people killed."
I clenched my jaw, forcing a breath. Every word from him was like fencing with a blade that didn't care if it drew blood. "We're not in a warzone. Not yet. You act like everything's already an enemy."
"Because everything is—until it proves otherwise."
Kaelira glanced over her shoulder, a petal caught in her hair. "You two sound like you're trying to win an argument no one asked for."
We said nothing.
Because she was right.
Later, the three of us sat in a clearing under Bloom's twilight sky. The lake shimmered behind us, casting silver ripples onto the shore. A fire crackled between us—more for comfort than warmth.
Its light danced across Kaelira's face like it couldn't help but reach for her. I finally asked the question that had been clawing at me since I got here.
"Kaelira… what are you?" Kaelira perked up, scooting closer.
"Ooh, storytime! I like this part—wait, do I tell it, or you?" she turned to the wolf.
"You talk too much. I'll start," he said flatly.
"Rude," she muttered, grinning.
I caught myself smiling too. Damian leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"She was made. Not born. Her creator's name was Elira. Brilliant. Dangerous. She built Kaelira with one goal..."
He let the words hang. "…to end the gods."
I blinked. "End the gods? You're saying Kaelira is powerful enough to do that?"
Kaelira's expression shifted—troubled, but not ashamed.
"She didn't want me to do it in the end. That's why she sent me here. To keep me safe… and away from him."
"Him?" I asked. "I don't know," she said softly. "She didn't have time to explain everything. Just that he couldn't find me. Or the book."
"But… didn't you say you had no memories of your past?"
Damian answered, eyes flicking toward the water. "She doesn't. Kaelira might've been the one who opened the portal. Something triggered it—maybe something connected to where she was created."
Kaelira brushed her fingers over the moss. "We don't know much. Just that I was built to be a weapon. Elira said she and someone else were trying to save the realms. She erased my memories to protect me. Sent me here so he couldn't reach me. She told me not to let him find the book. Not ever." She paused. Her voice was barely a whisper.
"…but she also said she loved me."
The silence that followed was full of unspoken things.
What she said made me think. Could it be that book? "Elira…" I said slowly. "That name sounds familiar. A celestial exile, maybe?
Damian scoffed. "Doesn't matter who she was. I don't care about Elira. I care about what she left behind." Kaelira looked at him.
"Me." She didn't say it with anger. Just truth.
I looked at her again.
This tiny creature was supposed to end the Gods?
"If you opened that portal… then yeah. That makes you powerful. If Elira is who I think she is, the Council might've sensed her magic through you. That's probably why they sent me."
Kaelira tilted her head, eyes bright. "Did you know her?"
I shook my head. "Not really. Just rumours. But the Council might have answers."
Damian muttered, "That'll go well."
"They're not all assholes," I said.
"Oh? Name one."
"…Exactly." Kaelira giggled.
The sound broke the tension like sunlight through clouds. The fire crackled on. The lake shimmered behind us, glowing faintly like it was listening.
I looked between them—this bright, chaotic girl with a legacy of war, and the demon who would burn the world to protect her.
And somehow, I was part of it now.