The cell was dark, damp, and dull, just as prisons tended to be. Water dripped somewhere, slow and rhythmic, like a lazy heartbeat.
Rhenvar rolled his eyes.
You'd think someone would fix that damn leak.
He sat motionless, slumped against the cold stone wall, staring at nothing. His once-elegant black suit, Veronica's gift, was torn and stiff with dried blood.
No wounds, though. Not anymore. Which meant Viir and I were still alive. I guess mother was right.
That should've comforted him. It didn't.
I lost control. The seal shattered. I remembered the chaos blooming inside, my thoughts twisting, blood warping into something feral. After that… nothing. And now, here I am.
Imprisoned. Quiet. Alone.
The mage stationed outside his cell hadn't spoken once. Just sat there, always watching. They all thought he was dangerous. And they were right.
I could leave anytime. Use the shadows and walk right out. No one could stop me if I truly wanted to.
But like the long centuries at the Shadow Fortress, something inside whispered. Stay. Stay and suffer.
Because deep down, he wasn't sure he should be free.
He exhaled, slow, and empty. His mind wandered, as it often did, to old memories. A time long past. The Elven forests, peaceful and beautiful. A flick of golden hair. A sharp poke to the head.
Willow.
Why do I keep thinking about Willow?
He remembered the dream, the one from the void. But the ball? That night? Nothing. Just pieces. Emotions. Flashes of death and blood. Nothing is clear.
Still, Willow lingered in his thoughts.
It's not like I'll ever see him again.
Even if we completed the mission, even if we saved this world, put a stop to the Worldeater's plans, and earned this world's gods' help, there was no guarantee the old world could be restored.
Darkness had said it herself. It was a gamble.
A gamble he was starting to doubt.
I wonder if the demon queen feels the same way.
Damn. I hardly thought of her too. I wonder if she needs help.
"Na. She'll be fine without me." Rhenvar leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. "Besides chicks a total bitch."
Time had passed. Minutes. Hours. Maybe longer. Rhenvar didn't move.
He never minded stillness. Meditation came easily. He let himself drift through memory, the forest paths of the elven homeland, the laughter of the twins, the warmth of their party's campfire. He remembered protecting their lands from enemies, sharing drinks and stories with their people.
For a moment, it felt like a family.
Then it hit him.
It's all gone.
It wasn't just a dream. It mattered. They mattered. That world, the one I was protecting, had once been a home. My home.
His heart hurt. An odd feeling.
He didn't understand why he cared now.
Why now, after everything?
What did Mother do to me?
He thought of Sylvia. Her quiet grace. Her sharp tongue. Her death. He'd accepted her marriage proposal because she asked. He thought it was the right thing to do. He did love the twins… the only way he could.
They were a family.
And then, like a dagger slipping into his gut, a memory returned, one he hadn't thought of in centuries:
His own family.
Back on Htrae.
My brother, my sister. My… Dad!
He hadn't thought of them since… since the first world he devoured. Since he killed the Gods. Since he killed Mother.
He clenched his fists remembering the second world. Viir's world.
He failed that. He knew it the moment he turned into the dragon, the day his flames turned black and consumed souls like dry leaves. The day he lit that world on fire and ate the Worldheart to end the pain. Just like his first life…
That's why she showed me those memories, he realized. She's always playing stupid games.
His eyes opened slowly. Shadows stretched across the stone floor.
Should I just let go? Just become that blood beast again and kill everyone-
"Hey, murderer," a voice called from the other side of the bars. "You have a visitor."
"A visitor?" Rhenvar said flatly.
Bet it's fucking Veronica. She going to scold me worse than Darkness ever did.
But the figure that stepped forward wasn't Veronica.
A red cloak. Long, golden hair. Eyes like rubies drenched in fresh blood.
Rhenvar's breath hitched.
"Wil- Willow?"
He was stunned and then blinked. His mind raced, memories of the Shadow Fortress crashing into him like a wave.
This isn't real. This is a dream.
He's gone.
He was absorbed with the others when Aucteros devoured the Worldheart.
Willow said nothing. Just studied his face.
This must be a trick, an illusion.
Rhenvar stood slowly, disbelieving. The world felt like it was tilting. His mouth began to water.
I'll eat this dumbass for taking the form of someone I cherish. I'll torture you for eternity in the Chaos Temple.
Then Willow stepped forward, calmly, and held something out.
Rhenvar reached through the bars without thinking. His hands closed around a small, sleeping form.
"Viir…" he whispered, voice cracking. He stared down at her, trembling.
He looked back up. "Willow… is that really you?"
"Yes," Willow answered softly.
But something was off. His voice was strained and conflicted. There was fear in his eyes. Fear of Rhenvar.
Rhenvar didn't care.
Something in him broke.
Willow's really alive!
He dropped to his knees, clutching Viir to his chest, and for the first time in over a thousand years.
He cried.
He sobbed like a wounded animal. No restraint. No walls. No armor. Just pain. A thousand years of built-up pain.
Tears soaked Viir's dark red clothes as he rocked forward, unable to breathe.
Why? Why now?
Is it because Willow lived? Because Viir's here?
Does it matter?
He remembered the seal.
Mother's voice. The memories. The truth.
His soul, the one that was locked away. It has returned. And with it… so had his emotions.
Willow finally moved, kneeling beside the bars.
"…Rhen," he murmured. Whatever plan he had for this moment, it was gone now. This breakdown wasn't something he expected. Maybe no one did.
Willow reached out, but the bars blocked him. Instead, he settled down beside them. Quiet. Close. And… warm.
Even through the cell, Rhenvar could feel the heat of his fire. A gentle warmth that soothed his shaking shoulders.
Is this what it feels like to have a soul? I had forgotten. It's been so long-
"I… didn't expect that," Willow admitted. "At least not from you."
Rhenvar exhaled, his sobs slowly fading. Viir slept peacefully in his hands.
"The seal broke," he whispered to himself.
"You were out for weeks, Rhen," Willow said gently. "I have questions."
Rhenvar looked up, wiping his face, still trembling. "Then ask. You know I won't lie."
Willow looked away, as if he had forgotten everything he wanted to ask. "The seal. You always mentioned it… but never explained it. Not even to Sylvia."
Rhenvar didn't flinch. He hid this secret from him for five hundred years.
"It's…" he said quietly, "where Viir trapped my soul. My real soul. The part of me untouched by the black flames."
Willow frowned. "Why?"
"Because without it… I would've been completely consumed."
He met Willow's eyes.
"My magic, the soul magic, it's chaos and blood. It's not meant to be controlled. The more I used it… the more I slipped. Temporary madness at first, then thirst. But eventually, it eats my soul…" He shook his head. "There'd be nothing left."
Please don't be scared Willow. Don't leave me alone.
Willow listened intently. Focused on reading his eyes.
"In a world long before I came to yours," Rhenvar continued, "I lost control. I transformed. A crimson beast, flame as black as night. Viir was my rider. Together… we burned everything."
He took a breath.
"We consumed the people first. Then the gods. Then the Worldheart. I'm not sure I'm human Willow, I'm think I'm a monster."
Silence.
Willow didn't speak. Didn't flinch.
But he didn't look away either. His red eyes held steady.
There was pain, raw, and unspoken. But somehow… it felt shared.
"There's more!" Rhenvar yelled. "More that I can't remember. More of myself I removed!" Much more… something important…"
Rhenvar looked up to Willow, eyes still in disbelief. He looked down, hugging Viir with his hands.
"I don't know what I gave up," Rhenvar's tears started again. "Right now I'm just- h- happy."
Rhenvar curled into a ball. Face first on the floor.
And Willow sat there with him. Asking nothing else. Just giving him warmth.
The only sound was water dripping.