“Can I get your name?” Zyrith’s voice cut through the stillness.

Myuk paused, looking at the dark elf. “Nyx,” he replied, the name rolling off his tongue with a weight that felt both foreign and familiar. It was a name he had conjured in the heat of the moment, a mask to shield him from the past that haunted him.

Zyrith’s violet eyes sparkled with curiosity and something else—perhaps a hint of admiration. “Nyx,” she repeated softly, as if tasting the name. “I owe you a debt for what you did back there. Can I help you in any way?”

He hesitated. The offer was genuine, but he was wary. He had learned the hard way that trust was a dangerous commodity. “Town,” he said finally, his voice steady. “I need to get to the nearest town. That’s all.”

“Do you need directions?” she asked, her tone shifting to one of practicality.

“I can find my way,” he replied curtly. “But if you want to repay your debt, you can guide me there.”

Zyrith nodded, her expression resolute. “I can do that. But I must warn you, the forest can be treacherous. There are more mercenaries and monsters lurking about, and it’s best to stay vigilant.”

Nyx regarded her for a moment, weighing his options. He had been alone for so long, trusting no one but himself.

“Fine,” he said, “but I have some rules.”

“Rules?” Zyrith raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“First,” he began, locking eyes with her, “you will always walk in front of me. I don’t trust anyone at my back.”

Zyrith nodded, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I can respect that.”

“Second,” he continued, “this deal ends the moment we reach the town. We part ways, and you don’t follow me.”

“Understood,” she replied, her tone serious.

“Third,” he added, “you are never to speak of me or our journey to anyone we encounter. I have my reasons.”

Zyrith considered his words carefully before nodding again. “I agree. Your secrets are safe with me, Nyx.”

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With the terms established, Nyx felt a slight sense of relief wash over him. It was a fragile alliance, but it was an alliance nonetheless. He watched as Zyrith stepped ahead, her posture confident as she navigated the underbrush, the forest coming alive around them once more.

As they walked, Nyx found himself examining her. Zyrith moved with a grace that belied her strength, her dark hair flowing behind her like a shadow. There was a fire that burned beneath her calm exterior. He wondered what other secrets she held within her, what other stories lay hidden beneath the surface. But that wasn’t important—after they reached the town, they would never see each other again.

The path twisted and turned, the trees arching overhead like ancient sentinels. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor.

“Why do you want to go to town?” Zyrith asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Nyx’s eyes narrowed slightly, his thoughts guarded. The truth was a burden he wasn’t ready to share, especially with someone he barely knew. “I have business there,” he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for further inquiry.

Zyrith glanced back at him, sensing his reluctance but choosing not to press the issue. The path ahead grew more rugged, the trees closing in around them like silent witnesses to their conversation.

The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp earth, the sounds of the forest filling the space between them. Every now and then, a distant rustle in the underbrush or the flutter of wings overhead reminded them that they were not alone. Yet, for all the forest’s dangers, it was the silence between them that felt the most ominous.

As they walked, Nyx found his thoughts wandering back to being summoned to a world he didn’t ask for and being cast aside. The memory of Princess Seraphine and her disdainful gaze burned in his mind, fueling his determination. He needed to stay hidden, to avoid her gaze until the time was right. The town was just a stepping stone—a place to gather information, resources, and perhaps even allies, though he doubted he would find anyone he could truly trust.

Zyrith, for her part, seemed content to let the silence stretch. She had her own burdens to bear, her own wounds to heal. The image of her ruined village and her mother’s dying breath was never far from her thoughts. But in Nyx, she saw something familiar—an anger that mirrored her own, a determination forged in pain.

The sun dipped lower in the sky as they continued, the shadows growing longer, the air cooler. Nyx’s mind raced with plans and contingencies, always thinking two steps ahead. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, not even for a moment. But as the town drew closer, a small part of him wondered—what if Zyrith’s help was more than just a convenience? What if she could be…useful?

But that thought was fleeting. He had made his rules clear, and he had no intention of breaking them.

After a while, Zyrith broke the silence again, her voice soft yet unwavering. “You know, Nyx, the world is full of people who’ve been wronged, people who’ve lost everything. You’re not alone in that.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. “I never said I was,” he replied eventually, his voice devoid of emotion.

Zyrith nodded as if she expected that answer, and they continued on in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The town was not far now, and with it, the end of their brief alliance. But until then, they would walk together, bound by their own rules and their unspoken pain.