The enormous shadowy claw drenched in dark energy sliced through the air toward my face.
The attack moved so fast that its rage-powered momentum distorted the surrounding air.
My heart was pounding against my ribs while rising into my throat. His glowing red eyes revealed nothing but the raw, untamed rage of an unleashed animal.
This wasn't Kaelen. This was the curse, consuming him.
The untamed and rebellious magic that belonged to me responded without thinking.
My scars glowed with a desperate warmth instead of the destructive heat from a Contract-breaking.
The situation demanded action without any time for contemplation. I extended my hand without hesitation to seize him instead of deflecting. To reach for him.
I pressed my palm down onto his chest, just above his heart where his shadow core vibrated below his skin.
The instant my hand made contact with him I felt a sharp electric jolt course through my body. The chaotic and violent shadow magic threatened to consume me entirely.
The destructive nature of my scars transformed into absorptive pathways. The scars radiated with clear white light instead of angry red and appeared as sunlight shining through ancient stained glass.
My hand as if touching a live wire sent a shock through me yet the sensation carried an unexpected touch of familiarity.
My hand sank into a live wire but there was an unusual sense of familiarity in the experience.
It was as though my scars had always been designed for this exact purpose.
The violent shadow core burst into me like a storm but my scars worked to absorb and redirect its destructive force.
Capturing a thunderstorm in a battle seemed impossible yet an innate power within me showed me how to mold the lightning.
[Kaelen's POV]
Pain. Raw, blinding agony, mixed with a familiar, suffocating rage. I was drowning in it, fighting against a rising tide of darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.
The world was a blur of red mist, the only thing I could focus on was the desperate need to lash out, to destroy, to kil something.
Thinking of my father… the screams from Chain-Golem… it was all a swirling vortex of agony. I think I am losing myself.
And then, a sudden touch against my chest. It should have been pain, another torment. But it wasn't.
Instead, it was cold. Different? yes, but also blindingly bright. Like a piece of ice-cold light piercing the smothering darkness.
An odd, unfamiliar warmth began to move from her touch, pushing back the creeping shadows.
It was not the burning kind of light; it was the warm kind of light that soothed. Her magic was pulling at mine, not with force, but with a strange, magnetic attraction, like a desperate grasp of fresh air.
The raw, desperate hunger of my shadow core was suddenly… muted. Contained.
Surprisingly, those small hands against my broad chest, felt like anchors, pulling me back from the edge of oblivion.
I couldn't be more grateful to those small hands.
The misty red began to recede, replaced by a hazy gray.
[Alara's POV]
I gritted my teeth, resisting the raw power of his unraveling magic.
My whole body was shaking under the pressure. My scars ached, not with hurt this time but with an intense energy.
It was draining the excess shadow and calming the chaos.
It was as if every nerve in my body was on fire.
He was resisting it, resisting me. But something deeper was allowing me to pull him back.
It was a sickening dance of magic and will power.
It was painful, but slowly the shadow receded.
The feral growls he was making turned into gasping moan.
His huge, clawed hand, inches from my face, was withdrawn and turned back into normal hands
The blazing red in his eyes faded, leaving behind the familiar stormy gray, clouded with exhaustion and dawning horror.
He fell, wrapping his arms around me, his heavy weight nearly knocking me off balance.
His head fell onto my shoulder, his breathing wild. I could feel the crazy pounding of his heart against my hand.
He was human again. Or, at least, for now.
He pushed away, stumbling back just a step, His hand went to his head, rubbing his temples, as if trying to wipe away a terrible fog.
His eyes wide with confusion and disbelief as he looked at his hands, then at me. The residual tremor in his body was almost unnoticeable, but I could feel it. .
"What… what happened?" he asked in a very rough voice.
"You went a little… coo coo," I said, my own voice a little shaky from the exertion. My hand still throbbed from the raw power I'd just wielded.
"You tried to redecorate the forest with your shadow claws. Almost redecorated my face, too, thanks."
He looked at his hands again, then back at me, a flicker of genuine shock and shame in his eyes.
He didn't deny it. His gaze dropped to my hand, which was still resting on his chest.
He covered my hand with his own. His fingers were surprisingly gentle and warm.
"Don't get used to this, Chainbreaker," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper, almost a plea. He didn't remove my hand, but the words themselves were a clear boundary.
This was a moment of circumstance, of necessity, not closeness or intimacy.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Fido," I retorted, pulling my hand away even though a strange part of me was demanding I keep it there.
His touch had been… grounding. My scars quieted, leaving behind only the familiar hum.
It was much easier to return to our usual banter, to pretend this intense moment of connection didn't just happen.
We sat there for a few minutes, catching our breath, the quiet broken by our ragged breathing and the stirring of leaves about us.
Then, the inevitable. The golden text flickered in my vision, making me groan internally. The System, always helpful, always intrusive.
____
[System Quest Initiated.]
[Objective: Foster deeper interpersonal trust and vulnerability.]
[Task: Share a bed for 6 hours.]
[Reward: "Cozy Dreams" (Nightmare Immunity).]
[Penalty: Insomnia + Singing Badgers.]
____
I stared at the words, shocked with disbelief. "You are kidding me right now?!"
I shouted, the words bursting from me. "A bed?! For six hours?! After all that?! What in the actual hell?!"
Kaelen, who had also seen the prompt, stiffened. His eyes, having just regained their calm, snapped wide.
A slow, painful flush crept up his neck. "A… a bed?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper, filled with sheer horror. "With you?"
The image flashed in my mind: us, tucked into a tiny, probably flea-infested bed, for six hours. The idea alone was enough to make me want to throw up.
"NO!" we both screamed ialmost together. Our voices echoing through the quiet forest like a chorus.
We looked at each other, and in that moment our mutual disgust overcame everything else.
We would rather fight a hundred Chain-Golems than share a bed.
Especially not if it meant being subjected to 'Singing Badgers.' The System was officially going mad.