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 Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:25 am
Takes place early January 2026 after: In the Dark
Énna had taken his time resting. Coming back from the dead had not been without pain, though it hadn’t been as excruciating in that respect as Énna would have imagined. The worst part was the tumultuous emotions: horror, loss, and gratitude all mixed together in an overwhelming tide. Nightmares interrupted his sleep. Flashbacks interfered with his days. He couldn’t look at food without his insides squirming. Dad let him stay home from school. Énna checked on his friends with texts and phone calls, content to hide away at home until living made sense again.
By the time a week had gone by, Énna had gotten restless. He needed more air and less solitude. He needed to feel like himself, to regain some semblance of normalcy.
He met Elliot and Atticus at a tree-lined park. As Yvoire, he almost expected his coat and vest and stockings to be permanently stained. How could anyone bleed that much without leaving evidence behind? But his outfit was as pristine as it always was, as if the ordeal in the basement had never happened.
“I wanted to thank you,” Yvoire said when he could find his voice. He shivered from unease more than the cold, grabbing the fur-lined edges of his cape to pull it around himself. Teal eyes flicked up to Amarynthos. “After—When we were at the springs, I was so out of it. I don’t think I ever—I didn’t get to say it then, but… What you did for me…”
Yvoire paused to swallow against rising emotion.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:27 am
Ephesus didn’t wait. The second Yvoire appeared, his breath caught in his throat, like he’d only just remembered he needed to breathe.
He moved before he could think better of it and wrapped his arms tightly around Yvoire’s middle, face pressed against his friend’s neck and the warm fur lining of his cape. The cold bit at his exposed skin, but he barely noticed it. The warmth against his cheek was proof enough that Yvoire was really there. Alive and breathing.
“You don’t have to thank us,” he choked, voice breaking on the words. His shoulders trembled, the shiver not entirely from the chill. “We were all so scared, Evie. I just--”
He pulled in a shaky breath and let it out against the thick fur of Yvoire’s cape, his voice soft and trying to be more steady. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
Ephesus tilted his head back after a moment, his eyes already bright with tears as he met Yvoire’s. He gave him a wibbly smile -- small, but genuine. Then he felt the cold start to creep in again, enough that his teeth threatened to chatter, and he laughed softly after a quiet sniffle.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I think I have an extra coat in my subspace, but… you’re so warm.” His fingers curled a little tighter at Yvoire’s sides, a little sheepish. “I might just stay like this for a bit, if that’s okay.”
He was content to hide in Yvoire’s embrace, at least until Amarynthos inevitably came to pull him close.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:29 am
As if Amarynthos had the heart to pry Ephesus from Yvoire. He stood next to the two and unclasped his cape, coming closer only to drape it over Ephesus’ shoulders. He’d moved Yvoire’s cape while he was working but put it back in place when he finished. Then, he rested his hand on Ephesus’ shoulder and ran his thumb in gentle circles.
When Amarynthos looked at Yvoire, it was with a smile, and relief. He had more color tonight, and Amarynthos’ eyes lingered a little longer as if he might cleverly assess what had yet to be spoken.
“Hey, you had more important things to think about at the springs. Don’t stress about it, okay? There was a lot going on. I wanted to check in with you but my head was all over the place. And we wanted to let you rest. I mean, I don’t know what we’d do without you. So, thanks for coming back. How are you healing up?”
Ganymede Knights, from what he could tell, all had a tendency of pushing themselves very hard. Reims was a bit more self-destructive than the rest of them. Lyon was a page, so it was understandable that he wouldn’t know his limits yet.
Yvoire was, of the three of them, probably the most level-headed. The most cautious, too, but sometimes those things just went hand in hand. Not that it mattered much when a sword cut through you the same as anyone else.
Amarynthos looked at him–really looked, because Yvoire was evasive. If he didn’t want them to see something, they probably wouldn’t. He didn’t want to dig too deep, but he didn’t trust what he found on the surface.
He didn’t want to find that Yvoire was overexerting himself. Crawling back from death’s threshold sounded exhausting–not just physically, but emotionally? Mentally? Psychologically?
Amarynthos had been hurt before. Badly, too.
He’d never been that close to death.
He’d never had to come back from it.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:29 am
“I’m okay,” Yvoire reassured them both. “Tired a lot. A little sore.”
He found it difficult to maintain eye contact—which wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but he also didn’t put as much effort into fighting the urge to look elsewhere. He watched a few thin branches sway in the gentle breeze. He glanced down at the patchy grass over Ephesus’ shoulder, wrapping his arms around him in turn. Ephesus’ arms around his middle reminded Yvoire of his wound—sealed shut so well someone might never have known the extent of the injury, but tender to touch or movement.
He didn’t say anything about the nightmares. Maybe it was obvious he’d have them. Maybe Amarynthos and Ephesus had them, too. He didn’t say anything about how he couldn’t eat either, how every time he did his insides squirmed and a wave of nausea washed through him.
Maybe it was all in his head. That didn’t make it any less real.
“I don’t feel warm,” he told Ephesus. The cape and proximity helped, but the shivering continued. The dark night around them seemed to close in. Every shadow felt like a threat, even his own. “Most days I don’t know if I’ll ever be warm again.”
His gaze flicked back up to Amarynthos briefly, then skirted away again.
“I know you were hurt. Effie, too, but especially you,” Yvoire said. “If things went wrong, we might’ve both—” He stopped and swallowed down the died lodged like a stone in his throat. “You risked yourself for me. And maybe you didn’t think of it as a risk, or maybe you thought it was worth it, and maybe you’d do it again. Everything worked out, but… I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it.”
Yvoire blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back before they had the chance to build up. “I hope you’re okay, too, and not just saying you are.”
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:29 am
Ephesus didn’t answer right away. He just held Yvoire closer, as if he could warm him by sheer will alone. His cheek pressed against the fur of Yvoire’s cape, but glanced over his shoulder to where Amarynthos stood behind him.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget,” he whispered finally. His voice wavered, and he tried to swallow down the emotions that never seemed to want to settle. “Seeing Mary like that… But they wouldn’t let me see what happened to you. I’m so sorry, Evie.”
He knew it was for the best. If the others decided it was best that he not see what happened, then he would have to trust them, despite his own curiosity.
He turned his head slightly, looking between the two. Amarynthos was standing so close he could reach out and touch him, while Yvoire was solid and breathing in his arms. He still half expected one of them to vanish.
“I’m okay,” he said after a moment, and he meant it, even as he sniffled a little. “I hit my head pretty hard, I think. I don’t really remember much after that part. Um, but I rested a lot, and I used some healing magic when I could. On myself, and on Dering, and Reims too. They needed it more.”
His hand came up instinctively to brush against the side of his head, fingertips tracing where the ache had been, before he let it drop again.
“We saw Cynthus and Rose as well. Stirling is in a cast for her arm. Lisse and Halle seem to be okay, but shaken,” he relayed. “We sent a message to Lyon to meet up with him. He was going to try to find his ring, last I heard.”
He let out a quiet breath and nestled a little closer beneath Yvoire’s arms, tugging his cape more snugly around them both. “You’re not alone in that,” he sighed. “I get cold all the time. It’s like it’s under my skin.”
A faint ripple of unease brushed at his senses. A flicker of something far off, but close enough to make him tense.
The youma auras blipped again.
His hand tightened slightly on Yvoire’s sleeve, careful not to startle him, just holding on for himself. He drew in another slow breath. “We’ll be okay,” he said after a moment, softer. “We’ll keep each other safe.” And even as his heart pounded, he managed a small, grateful smile. Somehow, he managed to keep the tears at bay, although his eyes were still wet. “I’m just really happy you’re both here.”
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:30 am
A frown settled on Amarynthos’ face before he could think to hide it. He half-turned, looking over his shoulder like he expected a youma to be there.
A chill winter breeze passed through. What leaves made it through the season trembled high above, and the grass bowed below.
Nothing moved between. The shadows stayed still.
But Amarynthos was unable to dismiss the slowly swelling unease building in his gut. His fingers curled around the staff experimentally and he leaned on it, not quite for support but not yet for action.
He didn’t want to worry either of them, so by the time he turned around again, he smiled. “Things did go wrong,” he reminded Yvoire. “If things went right, we wouldn’t have been hurt at all.” Or, at least, not that badly. He smoothed his hand down Ephesus’ back, thinking that it was a good idea to make sure Effie hadn’t seen how badly off Evie was.
He’d dreamed about it twice now.
“I’m okay now. Thanks for asking. It was kind of gross on that first day,” he admitted. His body had healed, just weirdly. A part of him wanted to tell them how gross it was to pee blood, or how awkward it was to have to call Michael and ask if he should be worried about that. He wanted to ask Evie if he had to deal with any of the weird cramps, or the strange, persistent twitching of agitated muscles and organs resettling. Poor Michael had to deal with an array of weird questions while Elliot had healed–what does a blood clot feel like? Why does it feel like a snake’s in my gut? How much blood can I throw up before I should worry?
…No, they probably wouldn’t be interested in hearing about that stuff. He shrugged the thoughts away.
“Mostly, I slept. Didn’t want to get out of bed, like my whole body just crashed. I played video games, though. I’m not sure if it’s going to scar?” His stomach itched but with one hand on his staff and the other on Ephesus, he couldn’t scratch it. He ignored it, instead. “But it’s healed up for the most part. I’ve been spending some time trying to make sure things like that don’t happen again, though. I mean–I’m glad we all walked away from it. But.”
He saw the dark circles under Yvoire’s eyes.
“I know this hasn’t been easy. Is there anything we can do to help?”
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:31 am
“It’s better that you didn’t see,” Yvoire told Ephesus. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget.”
The comment held more honesty than he was used to, far more than he wanted to express, but the words tumbled out before he could stop them. Yvoire closed his eyes for a moment so he wouldn’t have to see what look crossed either of their faces.
He tried to focus on the relief. Of course he’d known the others were okay; Riker had told him some of it. Énna had texted with some of the others even if he hadn’t seen them face to face yet, but hearing it from Ephesus and Amarynthos, too, helped reality set in a little more firmly. No one was dead. They were all mending. Some were worse off than others, but overall they’d gotten lucky.
When Yvoire opened his eyes again, he peered into the darkness around them. The park was decently lit in other areas, but they’d picked a more secluded spot to power up, hiding in the shadows of the trees.
Dread stiffened his posture. His arms tightened around Ephesus. Something tickled his senses, so brief he had no chance to sharpen his focus.
Another chill breeze swept through the trees, sending a shower of pine needles to the ground.
“I’m okay,” Yvoire said again, like he could make it true if he repeated it enough times.
Maybe it was true already, to an extent. He was alive. He was up and about. A stranger looking at him would never know how bad things had been. The discomfort would go away at some point. Riker insisted he barely thought about the wound he’d died from anymore. Yvoire suspected that wasn’t quite true, but he’d let Riker comfort him with the lie. With time, the memories would fade. He’d think of it less. Maybe his appetite would return. Maybe he would dance again without worrying the wound might rip back open.
He made himself look Amarynthos in the eye and hoped he seemed earnest.
“I get a little lightheaded sometimes,” he explained, filtering out the worst of his recovery—not because he didn’t want them to know but because he’d rather not think of it at all. “I think maybe it’s anemia. And I’ve started to feel… I don’t know… kind of claustrophobic, I guess. I thought it’d be better if I could get out of the house for a while…”
His gaze drifted as he trailed off. Something rustled through the undergrowth. Maybe a falling acorn. Maybe a possum or a raccoon. In the distance, another aura flickered in and out again.
“...but… now that I’m out, I still feel sort of… trapped. Or, like… if death was a person, it’s waiting around every corner.”
Yvoire forced himself to breathe. “Sorry, I know that sounds dramatic.”
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:31 am
Ephesus just clung to Yvoire for a few seconds after his apology. Just listening to the sound of the wind moving through the trees, the creak of branches, the low thrum of Yvoire’s heartbeat.
He thought about what Amarynthos said. About how things did go wrong. His throat tightened. They all had proof of it going wrong, written somewhere on their skin. He could still feel the pressure of how his nose would bleed, how it made his vision blur and head spin. He’d ruined one pillow and woke to Lucien standing on his chest, panicked because he’d smelled the blood before Atticus had even realized how bad it was. Elliot -- because of course Elliot wouldn’t leave his side -- hadn’t complained about being kept up, but Atticus still felt guilty.
He knew Elliot had his own injuries to tend to, as well. In a similar way to them not letting him see Yvoire’s injuries, Ephesus suspected his boyfriend might keep the worst parts from him to spare him. It made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain, but he trusted his friends to protect him. He just hoped they trusted him to protect them in return.
When he blinked, his eyes stung. Things did go wrong, but they were all still there. He could feel Amarynthos close behind him, the warmth of his hand at his back made it easier to breathe. He knew, without question, that if something came for them, Amarynthos would move first to protect them.
And yet, the thought didn’t make him feel any better. It only made something solidify more determined in his own chest. Protective, stubborn, unwilling to let either of them get hurt again.
His hand drifted unconsciously toward the small bauble of water, where the water shimmered faintly in response.
The unease that had been hovering finally moved closer, prowling at the edge of his awareness. “Something’s coming,” he said under his breath. He didn’t let go of Yvoire’s sleeve as he watched the shadows part and familiar dog-like youma stepping through to the faint light of the park.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:32 am
Amarynthos tracked the youma on his radar, keenly aware that they were practically within sight even before he saw the shadows move. He was still hanging off Yvoire's words, looking sympathetically at his friend, when the first youma moved in his periphery.
There were four, at least. Circling them. They dipped and reappeared on his radar, not with much predictability.
“Uh, no. That doesn’t sound dramatic, Evie. That sounds like post-trauma anxiety. Maybe PTSD?"
One of the youma–a big one, briefly came into view before it disappeared in the shadows. Still there, still circling, just unseen.
"...This probably isn't helping."
Amarynthos' hand dropped from Ephesus' shoulder and he turned, leaving his back to them. If anyone was going to have his back, he knew it would be Ephesus. "Can we back up towards that tree some? Might be good to have something to brace against. Do you two want a lift into the branches? I know you both have ranged magic."
He didn't want them fighting if they weren't up to it. They didn't have to if they didn't want to. There were only four right now. A large dog. A smaller sized one.
The third–another dog?–was hardly larger than the first he'd seen.
That wasn’t normal. He knew that wasn’t normal.
Youma didn’t usually travel in packs like this.
The only time he’d seen it was–
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:33 am
Ephesus didn’t hesitate. If Amarynthos said move, they should move. He gave Yvoire’s sleeve a gentle tug and nodded toward the nearest tree.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “That’s a good idea. I can still use magic from up there.”
He glanced at the branches, judging the climb. He could probably jump, but he wasn’t sure how he would land. A little boost up would be more accurate for getting where he needed to go. He could already tell from Yvoire’s demeanor that he didn’t intend to follow, but Ephesus suspected that might be for other reasons than because he thought it was a bad idea.
He turned back to Amarynthos and leaned close to give him a quick hug and kiss. His eyes were clear despite the unease he felt. “If they get too close, I’ll keep them distracted. Don’t worry about me, okay?”
He pressed his palm to the bark and drew in a slow breath, waiting for Amarynthos to give him a boost before starting to climb.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:33 am
Yvoire considered the trees. He thought of jumping, and the jostling of his insides every time he moved. He thought of climbing, even with a boost, and the searing pain that still sometimes shot across his middle. What if he stretched too far and ripped open? What if he hit a branch wrong or caught against a twig and tore something?
Ephesus climbed up. Yvoire watched, grim-faced, and made his decision.
He stayed below with Amarynthos. Maybe out of discomfort. Maybe out of stubbornness. Maybe because the trees began to look malevolent, limbs reaching, shadows stretching, like grasping hands waiting to pull him in.
“They’re the same ones,” Yvoire said—a pointless declaration, given that both Amarynthos and Ephesus could see that clearly enough for themselves. “Just like Reims and Rose said. But how did they find us?”
Youma hunted, but their pursuit had always seemed indiscriminate. Like hungry strays scrounging for food, they attacked when a convenient opportunity presented itself. Most seemed mindless. Some were not, but Yvoire had never known any of them to sharpen their focus so intently, to hone in and seek out specific targets. How could they tell the difference?
One of them bared its teeth. Yvoire sucked in a stuttering breath and took aim.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:33 am
With no hesitation, Amarynthos picked Ephesus up and lifted him into the branches. Though Ephesus had to do a little bit of athletic work, Amarynthos did as much as he could. He lingered briefly under the tree, only long enough to make sure that Ephesus wasn't going to fall, before he turned to help Yvoire up, too.
Only, Yvoire seemed like he wanted to stay on the ground. With no need to pressure him to change his mind, Amarynthos positioned himself so the tree guarded his blind spot while Yvoire stayed in his peripheral.
Really, only a few youma wasn't so terrible. They weren't even the bad ones. If it had been the six-legged youma, maybe they'd have had an issue, but these? He was sure he'd seen Lyon dust one of these–or one so like it that they were indistinguishable. A handful of youma was nothing for them.
But then, it wasn't the youma Amarynthos was worried about, it was–
An energy signature flickered in the distance, far but not far enough. It was there, and gone, and Amarynthos hoped it was because three Knights was too much trouble to bother.
But, no.
It came closer.
Cold dread flooded him when the General appeared before them.
Unmasked. Unfazed.
The youma circled them, faster now. Running. They held the perimeter, gradually drawing closer. Their boundless energy was obvious as they raced–faster, faster–charging with so much force that all other sounds were swallowed by the thud of their paws.
Moonlight illuminated the General's features. It was uncanny–he looked like a man, eyes narrowed and lips curled, yet his movements were not human: slow, predatory, animal. Monster.
His gaze settled on Amarynthos first. Face, then stomach. The smirk stayed.
Yvoire, next.
The smirk spread.
He spared Ephesus a single, assessing look. "You must be one hell of a healer."
It wasn't praise.
He started to circle them, each step measured, as if savoring the distance he took. Where the youma were frantic speed, he was cool, unhurried menace. With no words, he said everything: they were not a threat. They were prey.
And he was toying with them.
"How many more of those bones do you have?
He was effortlessly menacing. There was no performance in his intimidation, no need to make a show of it. Wickedness was simply ingrained in him. His very presence meant danger.
He didn't even have his sword out.
"Not enough."
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:34 am
He looked different without the mask, without hazy, toxic air distorting the image. Yvoire had seen him so briefly before, in the seconds Reims had locked swords with him—white hair, a uniform, and that mask. In the basement, he had been indistinct and inhuman. The pain stood out more in Yvoire’s memory. The smells—blood and fumes mingling. The sounds…
Here, the General seemed very real.
Yvoire swallowed down the rising tide of fear. He wrapped his hands around his parasol tight enough to stop their trembling. The youma circled, but his gaze remained locked on the General. The gleam of his eyes. The curling smirk. His voice—new, unfamiliar.
Apprehension crawled up Yvoire’s spine, over his shoulders and around his neck. He felt for a moment as if the ground had ceased to exist beneath his feet. He remembered the hand around his neck, lifting. He remembered the pain across his middle. The warmth of blood. Coiling ropes of—
Yvoire didn’t plan.
He reacted.
In the basement, his magic had dwindled—a thin, ineffective stream that ebbed away as soon as it came, cut off by a sword slicing through flesh, cleaving muscle.
This time, he sent a flood—liquid gold hot enough to burn.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:34 am
For a breath, Ephesus couldn’t move. He saw the General and every muscle in his body froze. The last time, there hadn’t been time to think, only the flash of a blade and the sound of his friends being cut and thrown and -- the ringing in his own ears. The sickening crack that left him dazed and in pain.
The bark bit into his palms where he clutched the branch, his breath quick and shallow. He knew Yvoire could fight. He knew Amarynthos could too. But that man had nearly killed both of them. And him, too, if he hadn’t gotten lucky.
Ephesus’s hand trembled as he quickly dug out a small pen from his subspace. He pressed the button once, hard. A faint light blinked, indicating the distress signal had been sent, and he let out a shaky breath of relief. It would send their location. His dads would know.
But in his rush to return it back into his subspace, it slipped from his fingers. The pen hit a lower branch and fell, bouncing once on the ground before rolling to a stop.
He froze, horror flooding him. What if he saw it?
His heartbeat was all he could hear. He wanted to climb down and grab it, but before he could, Yvoire moved.
“Evie--!” Ephesus’s voice cracked. He barely had time to think before grabbing the bauble at his side, his summon answering his plea for help. A low growl rippled through the clearing as the golden tiger manifested below, eyes bright and teeth bared.
“Keep him away from them,” Ephesus whispered, voice tight with both fear and resolve. The tiger lunged as Yvoire did, claw and teeth ready to maul.
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Posted: Sat Feb 07, 2026 10:34 am
Gold splattered the front of the General’s uniform. He looked down slowly, as if it were an insult more than an attack.
His eyes moved when the rest of him did not–slow, predatory.
He didn’t even move when the tiger lunged. Didn’t even look at it. His sword manifested before him, slashing downwards as if to cleave the tiger’s head from its body. It leapt backwards. The tip of the sword remained pointed at it, but did not follow.
All the while, the General’s eyes stayed fixed on Yvoire.
“Evie,” he said flatly.
The gold had hardened on his uniform, creating a shell from his chest to his shoulder. He inspected it like a curiosity, by touch at first; his fingers slid over the smooth metal. His eyes flicked to it once, then returned to Yvoire before he spoke again.
“Did this make you feel stronger? Safer?”
He scoffed–a half-hearted bark of a laugh–but his face remained impassive.
“You’re wasting your time. And mine. I didn’t come here to fight, but if that’s what you want,” he shrugged. The sword arced, not with great speed, but with impressive certainty. The flat edge pressed into Yvoire’s back.
“Hey–no, no.” Amarynthos managed to sound calm, almost friendly. He sidestepped to stand by Yvoire and shot out his hand to push the floating sword away. It bobbed slightly, offering little resistance, then drifted a few inches away. Amarynthos hooked his arm around Yvoire’s waist and planted his staff diagonally before them.
It wasn’t much protection. Maybe it would buy them a second, maybe soften a blow.
“We’ll talk. You just surprised us. Sorry. We don’t want to fight. Look–we got off on the wrong foot. If you didn’t want to fight–cool, we don’t want to fight either. What did you come here for?”
Amarynthos earned the General’s attention but he couldn't say he was glad for it. The man’s gaze was piercing–cruel and calculating. His face didn’t soften despite Amarynthos’ best efforts to be amiable. Nothing about him relaxed, but he hadn’t seemed tense to begin with.
“Smart boy,” the man said. It wasn’t praise. He was sizing Amarynthos up. Or down.
“Call off your pet,” he commanded, his attention turning to Ephesus. “You’re the one I want to talk to, little thief. Tell me what you and your friends took from my desk. And tell me where you’ve put it.”
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