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The brothel's door creaked shut behind us, muffling the drunken laughter and heavy perfume that had clung to the air like a second skin.
The stench of sweat and cheap wine lingered on me, no matter how tightly I pulled my scarf around my face. It clawed at my senses, a reminder of the guilt I couldn't quite shake.
Outside, the air was crisp, sharp enough to sting my lungs if I breathed too deeply. It was a relief. Anything was better than the suffocating haze of that place.
Kiaran walked a few paces ahead, his boots cracking against the dry, brittle earth. His shoulders were rigid, his head bowed slightly as his sharp gaze flicked between the horizon and the map in his hand.
There was a tension in his posture that felt as sharp as a blade—unrelenting and dangerous.
I quickened my pace to match his. "Are you sure we're heading the right way?" I asked, trying to sound casual, though unease coiled in my stomach like a restless snake.
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he slowed to a stop and glanced at the horizon, then back at the map. His jaw tightened, and I caught the faintest mutter under his breath.
That wasn't exactly comforting.
"Well?" I pressed, coming to a halt beside him.
"We're on track," he said finally, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. He folded the map with a sharp flick of his wrist and tucked it into his belt. With a quick jerk of his chin, he motioned ahead. "Let's keep moving."
We trudged on, the dry, cracked terrain crunching beneath our boots. Kiaran kept glancing at the map as if it might suddenly rewrite itself, his brow furrowed in a way that only deepened my unease.
I followed close behind, mimicking his steps, while stealing the occasional glance at the distant marketplace and the looming spires of the Aranbiyan palace.
My chest tightened at the sight. Memories surfaced—judgmental stares from humans, whispered condemnations—but I let out a slow breath when it became clear the map was leading us away from their path. Relief settled over me like a fragile shield.
But that relief was short-lived.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it: a dark blot on the horizon, faint and surreal, like a mirage. As we drew closer, the blot took shape, sharpening into something tangible—a gnarled canopy of trees rising defiantly from the desert, as though a giant himself had placed it there.
It looked wrong, misplaced, like a scar on the landscape.
"We'll have to cut through there," Kiaran said, his tone casual, though his expression was anything but.
I followed his gaze, and my stomach dropped.
At first glance, that same blot looked mangled—a smear of shadow on the endless expanse of sand. But as the distance closed, the smear revealed itself to be a forest. Its edges frayed into the desert like ink bleeding into parchment.
The trees jutted upward at unnatural angles, their branches twisted and claw-like, as if reaching for something unseen.
"That's where we're going?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Kiaran nodded, his frown deepening as he pulled the map back out to confirm. "It's the fastest route."
I couldn't stop staring. The forest didn't just look wrong—it felt wrong. The, dark soil looked like it had been watered with blood.
"Kiaran," I said slowly, wrapping my arms around myself as the chill of the place seeped into my bones, "what is that?"
"Erem Hadar," he replied simply. "A place where no humans or gods enter. Unknown entities live there."
The words sent a chill down my spine. "What do you mean, 'unknown entities'?"
Kiaran let out a quiet sigh, as if he'd been hoping I wouldn't ask. "They're creatures that are neither human nor god," he said, his tone flat and matter-of-fact. "They don't have divinity, and they don't have mortality. Humans think they've sinned... against God."
He fell silent for a moment, his gaze locked on the forest like it might suddenly rise up and swallow us whole. "Whether that's true or not doesn't matter," he continued at last. "What matters is that humans outcast them—banished them from society. They live off the grid because they don't have a choice."
The weight of his words pressed down on me, heavier than I expected. There was no judgment in his voice, just cold, hard truth. It made my stomach twist.
I glanced back at the forest, and the unease simmering in my chest solidified into something sharper. "Can we... skip it?"
Kiaran let out a sharp laugh, though there was no humor in it. "Sure," he said. "If you want to take a week-long detour."
I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. "A week?"
"This is the fastest route," he repeated, tucking the map away with finality. "It's not like we're walking into a demon's den. Most of the entities here are harmless—sprites, pixies, fairies, things like that. Nothing serious."
"Nothing serious," I muttered under my breath, glancing back at the forest. It didn't feel like "nothing." It felt like the kind of place you went into and didn't come back from. "Great."
Kiaran didn't wait for me to finish sulking. He started walking again, his pace brisk and unrelenting. I had no choice but to follow, though every step toward the forest felt like I was marching to my own execution
The air shifted the moment we stepped into the forest. It clung to me like a damp shroud, heavy and suffocating. The dry desert breeze that had stung my lungs moments ago was gone, replaced by a thick humidity that pressed against my skin.
The rot was thick—wet wood and iron, like something had died in the soil.
The ground beneath my boots was soft and damp, squelching with every step. It felt like the forest itself was trying to pull me under. Every sound was muted, swallowed by the oppressive atmosphere, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched.
Shadows flickered at the edges of my vision, darting between the trees too quickly to identify.
"I hate this," I muttered, my voice barely audible over the sound of our footsteps.
Kiaran didn't respond. He strode ahead with purpose, his hand resting on the hilt of the dagger strapped to his hip. His movements were steady, confident, like he'd been here before. I envied that certainty.
I, on the other hand, was on edge. My hand hovered near my weapon, and every rustle of leaves or creak of branches made my pulse quicken.
"Kiaran," I whispered, glancing around nervously, "are you sure this is safe?"
"Nothing here is safe," he said without looking back. "But we'll manage."
It wasn't exactly the reassurance I was hoping for.
We walked in silence, the forest closing in around us like an unrelenting tide. The trees seemed to twist and shift as we passed, forming a dark labyrinth that stretched endlessly in every direction.
My unease grew with every step, and the oppressive air made it feel like even time itself had slowed.
Then I heard it—a faint rustling behind us, followed by the soft crunch of footsteps. My heart leapt into my throat, and I froze, my hand gripping the hilt of my dagger.
Kiaran stopped too, his shoulders tensing as he turned to face the sound. His hand was already on his weapon, his crimson eyes narrowing as he scanned the shadows.
"The footsteps grew louder, closer, and for a moment, I tightened my grip on my dagger, ready for anything. Then, a voice called out, breathless and high-pitched."
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"Wait! Wait, it's me!"
I blinked in surprise as Estella stumbled into view, her curls wild and her brown cheeks flushed from running. She came to a halt a few feet away, bending over to catch her breath, but her face was lit with a triumphant smile.
"Finally caught up!" she panted, straightening up and brushing a stray curl from her face.
Kiaran's expression darkened immediately, his hand twitching toward his blade. "What the hell are you doing here?" he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.
Estella didn't flinch. If anything, her smile widened as she placed her hands on her hips. "I'm here to help," she said, as if her presence here was the most natural thing in the world.
Kiaran stared at her like she'd just grown a second head. "Help?" he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "You?"
Estella's smile faltered slightly, but she didn't back down. "I'm here to help save Mirelle," she said firmly, her voice steady despite the tension radiating off Kiaran.
Kiaran crossed his arms, his towering frame casting a shadow over her smaller one. "Oh, really?" he said, his tone laced with sarcasm. "And how exactly are you planning to help?"
Estella's smile faded completely, replaced by a quiet determination. She looked up at Kiaran, her golden eyes unwavering. "Mirelle is my sister," she said softly. "I can't just sit back and do nothing. I have to help."
Kiaran stepped closer, his massive frame looming over her. His voice dropped to a low growl. "Okay," he said, "then tell me how you'll be useful to us. Because I don't carry dead weight."
The words hit like a slap, and I flinched despite myself. Kiaran's bluntness could be brutal, but I knew he wasn't trying to be cruel. He was a pragmatist, always calculating risks and rewards. Still, that didn't make his words any easier to hear.
Estella didn't flinch. She squared her shoulders and raised her hand, her fingers trembling slightly as a soft, golden blue light began to emanate from her palm. Slowly, a single rose began to bloom in her hand, its petals delicate and impossibly perfect.
Kiaran arched an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "So... you do gardening?" he said dryly, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Estella shook her head, her expression calm and resolute. "It's not just gardening," she said, holding the rose up as if it were a weapon. "My power is love."
Both Kiaran and I stared at her, our disbelief evident.
"Wait," Kiaran said, holding up a hand. "Let me get this straight. Your power is love? That's it? You can't make a barrier? You can't carry a sword?"
"Nope," Estella said cheerfully. "But I'm not useless."
Kiaran snorted, shaking his head. "We're doomed."
I bit my lip to keep from laughing, though I couldn't hide the small smirk that tugged at the corners of my mouth. Love? That was her power? It sounded ridiculous. Her sister Mirelle's power could sway kingdoms into war, and Estella... could make roses bloom?
But Estella didn't look embarrassed. If anything, she looked proud.
"It's not just love," she said again, her voice firmer now. "Love can make people stronger. Faster. Better. It's not flashy, but it's powerful. And if you don't believe me..." She trailed off, her golden eyes glinting mischievously. "I'll prove it."
Kiaran raised an eyebrow, his skepticism clear. "Go home Estella" He sighed "I don't have time for-"
"I'll prove it to you!" Estella said desperately cutting into his biting words.
Before he could react, Estella stepped forward and placed her hand flat against his chest, right over his heart. Her fingers splayed, trembling slightly, and for a moment, nothing happened.
Then, the air around them changed.
A faint blue golden glow spread from her palm, rippling outward like waves in a still pond.
The glow shimmered and pulsed, faint at first but growing stronger with each beat, until it seemed to envelop Kiaran entirely.
His entire body stiffened.
The glow surged into him, and his breathing quickened, his pupils dilating like a predator catching the scent of blood. His movements became sharper, more monstrous, as though the light had unlocked something primal within him.
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It was like something wild had been unleashed.
In an instant, Kiaran's hand shot out and grabbed Estella's wrist, his grip firm but not quite crushing. He pulled her close, his towering frame dominating hers, his movements almost predatory. The golden light still pulsed faintly between them, casting eerie shadows across his face.
"Stop," he growled, in her ears his voice low and rough, like a distant thunderclap. The sound of it sent a shiver down my spine.
Estella's eyes widened, startled, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she withdrew her hand slowly, letting the glow fade. The light vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving only the faint rustle of the forest to fill the silence.
Kiaran's grip on her wrist loosened, and he stepped back, his other hand moving to his chest. His fingers pressed over his heart as if he were trying to steady it, his jaw clenched tightly as he exhaled slow, deliberate breaths.
For a long moment, no one spoke. The clearing was silent, save for the faint creak of the trees swaying in the wind.
I stared at Kiaran, my mouth slightly open. He didn't look like himself. There was something in his eyes—something raw and unrestrained, like a storm barely held at bay. He looked at Estella, his expression unreadable, then turned abruptly and started walking toward the forest.
My thoughts scrambled to make sense of what had just happened. Kiaran—stoic, pragmatic, unshakable Kiaran—had just... accepted Estella. Just like that. No argument, no biting remarks. It didn't make sense.
But I did hear rumble in his throat........
Then he chuckled. A low, unsettling sound that sent a cold ripple through me.
"Estella," he said, his voice calm but laced with something dark, "you're more dangerous than your sister." He glanced over his shoulder, his crimson eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "I like that........
"But if you hadn't stopped... I would've gone feral. And I would've killed you."
I looked at Kiaran and then I looked at Mirelle.......I'd seen Kiaran fight through blade and blood, but I had never seen him tremble beneath someone else's touch.......
It shouldn't matter, my top priority.....should be rescuing Mirelle
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