———Red———

The forest stretches around us, its towering trees shrouded in shadows under the pale glow of the moon. The rhythmic pounding of hooves fills the air, blending with the distant, faint echo of the chaos we've left behind. Domnik rides ahead, his silhouette illuminated by the occasional shaft of moonlight piercing through the canopy. He's tense, his head turning now and then to scan the darkened forest, always on alert.

Behind me, Alyse rests against my back, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist for balance. Her breathing is steady, though I can feel the occasional tremble in her grip. She's not sleeping—I can tell by the way her fingers shift slightly with every bump or jolt of the horse's gait. Maybe she's trying to find a moment of peace, but I know neither of us will have that luxury until this is over.

The forest feels alive, not with the usual hum of crickets or rustle of wind through leaves, but with an oppressive silence, broken only by the sound of our escape. I glance back at Alyse briefly, catching a glimpse of her face, pale but determined.

Domnik glances over his shoulder. "We'll need to rest the horses soon. They're not going to make it all the way to Grimhold Peak at this pace."

I nod, slowing my horse slightly to keep our pace manageable. "We're far enough from the city for now. Let's find a clearing and regroup."

The forest's oppressive silence gives way to the soft rustling of leaves as we slow the horses to a stop in a small clearing. The moonlight filters through the canopy, creating a patchwork of silver on the forest floor. Domnik dismounts first, patting his horse's neck to calm it, his eyes scanning the trees as if he doesn't quite trust the quiet.

"This'll do for the night." he says, his voice low but steady.

I help Alyse down from the saddle, her legs unsteady after the ride. She gives me a small nod of thanks, brushing her hair back from her face. The tension in her shoulders is evident, but there's a flicker of relief in her eyes as she takes in the calm of the clearing.

Domnik kneels to gather dry branches and kindling, muttering something about needing to stay warm. I follow suit, helping him pile the wood in the center of the clearing. Within minutes, a fire crackles to life, its orange glow pushing back the shadows and casting a fragile sense of safety over us.

We settle around the fire, the horses tied nearby and grazing on patches of grass. The warmth seeps into my bones, chasing away the chill of the night and the weight of the day's horrors. For a while, none of us speak. The flames pop and hiss, and the forest hums softly around us.

Alyse breaks the silence, her voice quiet but firm. "I still can't believe we made it out of there." She pulls her knees to her chest, staring into the fire. "Do you think Brenelor... do you think she knew what was going to happen?"

Domnik looks up from sharpening his blade, his expression thoughtful. "She knew the risks. Brenelor always planned for the worst, even if she didn't show it."

I nod, staring into the flames. "She didn't hesitate. She... she made her choice to give us a chance. To finish this."

Alyse's fingers twitch, sparks of lightning flickering briefly in her palms before fading. "It's not fair," she whispers. "Why does it always have to end like this?"

Domnik leans back against a fallen log, exhaling sharply. "Because this world isn't fair. It's a cruel place. But that's why we keep fighting—to make it better. For the people who can't."

The fire crackles between us, filling the heavy silence that follows. After a moment, Domnik smirks, his tone lighter. "You know, back in the city, I was convinced I was going to die. But then I remembered something—Red still owes me for that time I saved his ass back in Pinecrest."

I roll my eyes, unable to suppress a small grin. "Oh, come on. You're still holding onto that? I saved your ass in Grimhold Pass, remember?"

Alyse raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching in a faint smile. "Sounds like you both have a lot of debts to settle."

Domnik chuckles, leaning forward to poke at the fire with a stick. "Fine, fine. We'll call it even. For now."

The tension eases as the fire crackles between us, its warmth warding off the chill of the night. Domnik leans back against the fallen log he's claimed as a seat, twirling a twig between his fingers. There's a faint smirk tugging at his lips, and I can tell he's about to say something that he probably shouldn't.

"You know," he starts, his voice casual, "speaking of close calls, I've got a story for you two."

Alyse raises an eyebrow, hugging her knees. "This isn't going to involve something horrifying, is it?"

"Depends on your definition of horrifying," Domnik replies, his smirk widening. "But no, no bloodshed. Just... well, maybe a little humiliation."

I glance at him, intrigued despite myself. "Alright, let's hear it."

Domnik tosses the twig into the fire, leaning forward as if to set the scene. "So, this was back when I was still trying to figure out my powers. My father—Zul—left plenty of 'lessons' for me to find, in the form of ancient texts and scrolls. Half of them were completely unreadable, but one day, I stumble upon this dusty old book shoved in the back of the library."

He pauses for dramatic effect, gesturing with his hands. "Inside is this spell—a summoning spell. Not just for any daemon, mind you, but one of Zul's trusted lieutenants. I think to myself, 'Perfect. This is how I prove to myself I've got what it takes.'"

Alyse gives him a skeptical look. "And let me guess, it didn't go as planned."

Domnik laughs, a low, self-deprecating sound. "You're getting ahead of me. So, I gather everything I need—a summoning circle, runes, a bunch of incense that made my head spin—and I even manage to memorize the chant. It takes me hours to get everything set up, but I'm confident. I light the candles, draw the sigils, and start the ritual."

He sits up straighter, his voice deepening as he imitates his younger self. "'Oh, great servant of Zul, I summon you from the depths of hell to do my bidding!'"

I snort, shaking my head. "You actually said that?"

Domnik points at me. "Don't judge me. I was young and stupid. Anyway, I get to the end of the chant, and suddenly, the room goes dead silent. The air gets heavy, the candles flicker, and I think, 'Oh shit, it's actually working.'"

He spreads his arms dramatically. "And then—BOOM. There's this massive explosion of smoke right in the middle of the circle. I'm coughing, trying not to pass out, and when the smoke clears... there it is."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Alyse leans forward, eyes wide. "What was it?"

Domnik sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "A chicken."

The silence is deafening. Alyse blinks, and I can't hold it in—I burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. "A chicken? You summoned a chicken?"

Domnik throws up his hands. "Not just any chicken! This thing was massive, glowing red, with these weird little horns on its head. It stared at me like it was planning my demise."

Alyse tries to stifle her laughter, failing miserably. "What did you do?"

"What could I do?" Domnik exclaims. "I tried banishing it, but the damn thing wouldn't leave. It just strutted around the circle, clucking like it owned the place. It followed me everywhere for three days. Every time I turned a corner—cluck. Every time I tried to sleep—cluck."

I wipe a tear from my eye, grinning. "So, what finally happened to it?"

Domnik shakes his head, a rueful smile on his face. "Eventually, it disappeared on its own. Probably got bored of me. But for those three days, I was convinced I'd summoned some kind of poultry daemon sent to torment me."

Alyse is practically crying with laughter, clutching her sides. "I can't believe you—Domnik Wrathrune, heir to Zul's power, defeated by a chicken."

Domnik shrugs, leaning back again. "Hey, we all start somewhere. Besides," he adds, a sly grin returning, "I've gotten much better since then. No more chickens."

The three of us laugh, the sound echoing into the quiet forest. For a moment, the weight of the world feels a little lighter, and I'm reminded why we keep going—because even in the darkest times, there's still room for moments like this. Moments where we can simply be human.

Alyse pokes at the fire with a stick, the flames casting a warm glow on her face. She smiles, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Alright, since Domnik shared his tale of daemon chickens, I guess it's my turn."

Domnik perks up, smirking. "This should be good."

I raise an eyebrow, already bracing myself. "Alyse, don't you dare."

She ignores me, her grin widening. "So, back when Red and I were kids in Pinecrest, we had this brilliant idea to sneak into old Farmer Tormund's barn. He had this massive bull, the meanest thing you've ever seen. Everyone called it Ironhide because it looked like it could plow through a stone wall."

Domnik chuckles. "Let me guess—this is going to involve you two doing something incredibly stupid."

"You're not wrong," Alyse says, biting back a laugh. "See, Tormund was always yelling at us to stay away from his property, which of course made it the most interesting place in the entire village. One day, Red decides—"

"I didn't decide anything," I interrupt. "You were the one who—"

"Shush," she says, waving a hand at me. "Red decides it would be fun to see if we could ride Ironhide."

Domnik bursts out laughing, clutching his sides. "You tried to ride a bull?"

"No, he tried to ride the bull," Alyse corrects, pointing at me with the stick. "I was just the lookout, which, in hindsight, was a terrible idea because I got distracted by some wildflowers and forgot to warn him when Tormund came back."

I groan, running a hand down my face. "This story gets worse every time you tell it."

"Red sneaks into the barn," Alyse continues, ignoring me. "And he actually manages to climb onto Ironhide's back. For a moment, he looked like a hero out of one of those old bard's tales—until the bull woke up."

Domnik is practically doubled over now, tears streaming down his face. "Please tell me he got thrown."

Alyse nods, barely able to keep a straight face. "Oh, he got thrown, alright. Ironhide went berserk, crashing through the barn door with Red hanging on for dear life. He screamed so loud, I think the whole village heard him."

"It wasn't screaming," I protest. "It was... shouting. Battle cries."

"Sure," Alyse says, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, Ironhide takes off, charging straight through the village with Red still clinging to its back. People were diving out of the way, chickens squawking everywhere, and poor Mrs. Hadley's laundry got trampled."

Domnik wipes his face, still laughing. "How did it end?"

Alyse leans back, smirking. "Eventually, Ironhide stopped at the river to cool off, and Red rolled right into the mud. Tormund was furious, of course, but Red managed to sweet-talk him into not telling our parents by offering to clean the barn for a month."

"Which you didn't help with," I add, giving her a pointed look.

"Hey, I was the lookout!" she says, raising her hands innocently. "Not my fault you didn't pay attention to my warning."

"You didn't give any warning," I shoot back.

Domnik shakes his head, still grinning. "I can't decide what's funnier—the fact that you thought riding a bull was a good idea, or the image of you flying off into the mud."

Alyse giggles, her smile softening. "We got into a lot of trouble back then, but it was worth it. Those were the good days, before... well, before everything changed."

The mood shifts slightly, the warmth of the fire now mingling with a quiet, shared understanding. For a moment, none of us speaks, letting the memory linger in the stillness of the forest. And then Domnik, ever the mood-breaker, smirks and says, "So... should we start calling you Ironhide, Red?"

I groan, throwing a twig at him. "Don't even think about it, the Scarlet Phoenix is bad enough."

Laughter erupts again, and for a little while longer, the shadows of the world around us feel just a bit less heavy.

I shake my head "Domnik, who is Hail? How did you know his name?"

He seems nervous to talk and shakes his head. "It's a long story Red."

I narrow my eyes, not letting him off the hook so easily. "We've got time, Domnik. Who is he? And why did it seem like you already knew what he was capable of?"

Domnik exhales sharply, his hand running through his jet-black hair. He looks uneasy, his gaze fixed on the fire as if hoping the flames will offer him an excuse to stay silent. Finally, he sighs, his voice low and measured. "Hail... he's a hunter. Not just any hunter—he's one of the best. He's known for tracking down anything with even a hint of Daemonic blood and putting them in the ground."

I frown, leaning forward. "And you've got Daemonic blood. How do you know him?"

Domnik hesitates, and for a moment, I think he's going to brush me off again. But then he speaks, his words slower, more deliberate. "He was one of the first celestial born children my mother went after. His... his dad is Chronos Magnus."

The revelation hits like a lightning strike, and for a moment, I'm sure I didn't hear him right. "Wait," I say slowly, leaning forward. "Did you just say Chronos Magnus? The god of Creation and Destruction?"

Domnik nods, his gaze still fixed on the fire. The flames dance in his eyes, but there's no warmth in his expression—only the weight of what he's saying. "Yeah. Hail's not just some skilled hunter. He's got the blood of a god running through his veins, Red. That's why he's so powerful."

Alyse gasps softly. "And your mother—Vermidia—went after him? Why? What did she want with Hail?"

Domnik's lips press into a thin line, his shoulders stiffening. "It's what she does, Alyse. My mother doesn't just haunt dreams and nightmares; she preys on those with power, especially if it comes from gods. Hail was... a prize, a potential weapon for her to twist and use. But she underestimated him."

He pauses, the flicker of a memory crossing his face like a shadow. "I wasn't there for all of it, but I know she killed someone close to him during the hunt. His sister, Mia. From what I've pieced together, she was everything to him. And when she died... something inside him snapped. He came after my mother with a vengeance."

My jaw tightens. I can almost picture it—Hail, his silver hair streaked with blood, tearing through nightmares and hellscapes to reach Vermidia. The thought is chilling. "And what happened?" I ask, my voice low.

Domnik's eyes finally meet mine, dark and haunted. "He didn't kill her, obviously. No one just kills Vermidia. But he came close. Close enough that she still talks about him, still fears him, enough to warn me about him. And that's saying something. She's never forgotten him... and he's never stopped hunting anything tied to her. Including me."

A heavy silence falls over us, broken only by the crackle of the fire. Alyse shifts uncomfortably, her arms wrapping around her knees. "He thinks you're like her."

Domnik nods grimly. "Yeah. He's always going to see me as my mother's son first, no matter what I do. And honestly..." His voice falters, and for a moment, I see a crack in the armor he always wears. "I don't blame him."

I shake my head, refusing to let him spiral into self-loathing. "You're not her, Domnik. You've made your choice, and you're standing with us. That counts for something."

Alyse nods in agreement, her voice soft but firm. "Red's right. You're not your mother, Domnik. And if Hail can't see that, then we'll just have to prove him wrong."

Domnik looks between us, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes, though it's quickly masked by his usual stoic demeanor. "Thanks. But proving it to Hail... that's not going to be easy. If he thinks I'm a threat, he won't hesitate."

"Then we won't give him a reason," I say. "Right now, we've got bigger problems than him."

Domnik nods, and the firelight reflects off the determination in his gaze. "Yeah. Like stopping Muthos and finding Kylen."

The three of us fall quiet, each lost in our own thoughts as the fire burns lower. The weight of what's ahead looms over us, but for now, we've carved out a small moment of peace. And I know we'll need it—because when the sun rises, the real battle begins.