Night had deepened. Perseus lay silent, sweat-soaked and pale, staring at the ceiling like if he blinked she'd vanish again—like his mind still couldn't trust that she was truly found.
Boo sat beside him, cross-legged on the bed, running her fingers absently over a jagged sliver of wood from the shattered nightstand. Her eyes were hollow, but watchful. Her thumb traced over the splinter's edge as if grounding herself with its sharpness.
"Hey," she murmured. "You gotta rest."
His eyes flicked to her—red-rimmed, glassy, holding back something fragile and wild.
"If you collapse again, I swear I'll knock you out myself. Elune's moon pools won't be enough to fix that kind of stubborn."
A beat.
"…you'd do it gently?" he rasped.
"Probably," she said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "But no promises."
He exhaled—something between a laugh and a sigh. His breathing finally began to slow. Boo leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed, fingers still holding the splinter like it might stab her awake if she dared to sleep.
In the Forest
A cry pierced the hush of the forest.
Loque'nahak stood sentinel over Nyxia's collapsed form, tail flicking, spectral fur bristling with tension. His massive paws shifted restlessly against the dirt, the air around him thick with fading starlight and raw worry.
Get up, cub. They're coming. I can feel them.
Nyxia didn't move.
She'd run until her body shut down—until her soul teetered on a line between waking and withdrawal, chasing a numbness that refused to settle.
Her chest rose faintly.
A distant whistle. Then voices—muffled by trees, by magic, by fear. Lantern light flickered between trunks, casting long shadows like reaching arms.
"Over here!" someone called.
Loque snarled once, warning sharp and guttural—until a flash of silver robes emerged, glinting with Elune's blessing.
A rescue acolyte. Then another. Then four more.
One dropped beside her, casting healing light over Nyxia's bruised, tear-streaked face. "She's alive!"
"Praise Elune—she's alive!"
Gloved hands lifted her carefully from the roots of the tree. Loque stalked beside them, massive and silent. He didn't growl again.
I told you, he thought, fierce and proud. You're not done yet.
The Temple Gates
The cry broke through the courtyard like a hymn split open:
"She's back! We found her!"
Boo bolted upright, blinking sleep from her eyes. A prayer half-formed in her throat. Perseus stirred, confusion chasing away exhaustion, but her face said everything before the words came.
Nyxia.
They rushed outside—Perseus leaning heavily on Boo, each step ragged. One arm slung over her shoulder. His legs barely cooperated, but he moved like he'd fight gravity itself to reach her.
The scene below was a bloom of chaos and awe.
A pair of temple guards guided a stretcher draped in mooncloth. Nyxia lay across it, her body limp, spectral tail trailing off the side. Her hair was a tangle of dirt and brambles. Her skin bruised and raw. But her chest rose—slow, uneven—but it rose.
Loque padded beside her, spectral fur haloed in faint light, eyes locked forward with unwavering focus.
Perseus crumpled. Boo caught him hard by the arm.
"It's her," he whispered. "Gods, it's really her."
They bypassed the moon pools.
Nyxia was carried straight to the temple's sanctum—where healing spells wove between silk banners and sacred light pooled on polished stone. Her soul flickered faintly between consciousness and something quieter. Something darker.
As they lowered her onto the cot, Perseus sank beside her. His hands hovered an inch from her skin—afraid to touch, to break whatever fragile miracle kept her breathing.
"I should've stopped you," he whispered. "I should've…"
Loque stepped between them. He pressed his massive head against Perseus's chest, a low, reverberating growl rolling from deep within—a sound that was both rebuke and balm.
Boo crouched beside them, voice thick and raw. "She made it back. You both did."
Finally, Perseus reached out. Fingers trembling, he brushed a lock of hair from Nyxia's temple.
"…Welcome home."
Moonlight spilled through the high windows when Loque finally settled beside Nyxia's cot. His glowing form curled protectively around her. His paw rested over her leg like a vow sealed in fur and spiritlight.
Boo sat on a bench beside Perseus, quiet for once. Her hands still fidgeted in her lap—idle warriors without a weapon.
Perseus exhaled, long and slow. His shoulders sagged. The rage that had burned behind his eyes for days ebbed into something hollow and aching.
"She's safe," Boo said quietly. "That's all that matters now."
He nodded, barely. The guilt still clung like ash.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice low. "For everything. For losing control. For scaring everyone. For failing her."
Loque huffed. A low, dismissive chuff. Boo offered a tired smile.
"You lost it because you care. That's not a crime."
She nudged him gently. "But next time, maybe punch a pillow instead of the furniture?"
He chuckled—surprised by the sound. Then leaned back, let the wall support his weight.
"Noted."
They didn't speak much the next morning.
Perseus had bathed and dressed in silence. Boo moved with more ease, though her usual sharpness still came and went like a wounded bird testing its wings. She flirted half-heartedly with the acolyte delivering their trays—warm bread, soft cheese, early fruit.
The silence wasn't hostile. Just… suspended.
Perseus broke it, his voice quieter than usual.
"I owe you both more than an apology."
He didn't look up—just stared at the knots in the polished wood table.
"The things I said. The way I acted. That's not who I want to be."
Boo chewed slowly, then shrugged. "You were afraid. Doesn't excuse it—but it explains it."
Her eyes found his. "You're still here. That means something."
He nodded, but the shame sat heavy in his gut. Some stains don't lift in one morning.
Later, warmth stirred her awake.
Nyxia blinked up into sunlight. The aches returned first—dull, deep, but familiar. Then her breath, shallow but clean. Then Loque—glowing faintly at her side, eyes half-lidded, unmoving.
"You scared me, little shadow," his voice whispered in her mind. Deep. Loving. Steady.
"I scared myself," she whispered back, voice hoarse.
Temple attendants entered with soft steps. They wrapped her in a thick shawl, guided her slowly from the bed toward the courtyard, where a table had been prepared under the open sky. She moved like someone walking through a dream—spectral tail dragging, new ears twitching at every sound.
Perseus stood when he saw her. Boo beat him by a heartbeat, crossing the space and sweeping Nyxia into a bone-crushing hug.
"You little idiot," she whispered fiercely. "Running off into the woods like a cursed spirit—what were you thinking?"
Nyxia blinked up at her, dazed.
"I wasn't."
"Next time, think. Then run." But Boo hugged her tighter. "I'm glad you came back."
They sat around the table. Nyxia ate slowly, nibbling on fruit and torn bread. Her appetite was fragile. But it was there.
"Perseus," she said quietly.
He looked up. And she didn't look away.
"I'm sorry. For everything. For pushing you away. For losing myself. For making you worry."
She lowered her gaze. "Thank you for not giving up on me. Even when I did."
He was silent for a long moment. Then:
"There's nowhere you could go that I wouldn't follow."
Her ears twitched—just once. But the shine in her eyes was answer enough.
They finished the meal in gentle quiet.
That Night
The three of them gathered under silver stars on the temple's upper terrace. The wind stirred the sacred trees. Starlight glittered like ice on the railings.
Loque dozed at Nyxia's side, one paw resting atop her foot like a guardian's promise. Boo leaned on the railing, bottle of plum wine in hand, hair tangled in the breeze.
Perseus joined them, clean and calm, wrapped in temple linens. He sat beside Nyxia, arms resting loosely on his knees. He didn't speak at first.
Boo swirled the wine in her glass. "Didn't think I'd be laughing with either of you again."
"You almost didn't," Nyxia murmured.
Loque chuffed softly.
"I'm glad I was wrong," Boo added. "Somehow… we're still here."
Nyxia looked between them. "We kept each other from falling apart."
Perseus reached out—hesitant, but steady—and laid his hand over both of theirs.
"You're family now. Both of you."
Nyxia turned her palm and laced her fingers with his. Boo set her glass down and joined the circle.
Loque stirred but didn't open his eyes. His deep rumble said everything.
For the first time in a long, long while… none of them felt alone.
A Week Later
Golden light bathed the courtyard.
Boo stood with a satchel at her hip, weapons belted in place, her stance already coiled for travel. She flexed her fingers like someone reacquainting herself with strength.
Nyxia waited at her side, cloaked in soft green and deep brown. Her tail swayed in gentle arcs behind her, Loque at her side like a shadow bound by loyalty.
Perseus stood in the doorway of the temple hall, arms crossed, face stubborn as ever—until Lys stepped into view behind him.
She moved with the unshakable authority of someone who had raised him, survived him, and seen far too much of his reckless devotion for one lifetime.
"You're not leaving," she said flatly.
"I'm fine," Perseus insisted.
"You're still recovering from spellburn, sleep-root backlash, emotional exhaustion, and divine overreach," Lys replied without missing a beat. "Also, the room you wrecked still smells like ozone and shame."
Boo smothered a laugh. Nyxia arched a brow.
Perseus sighed through his nose. "It's been a week."
"And it took four full acolytes three days to undo the damage you did to your body—and the sanctum—throwing that tantrum."
He opened his mouth. She raised a hand.
"One more word and I'm chaining you to the moon pool bench with a prayer scroll and feeding you nothing but recovery tea."
He shut his mouth.
Over her shoulder, Perseus met Nyxia's eyes.
"Wait for me?"
She gave a soft nod. "Always."
Boo walked over and placed a hand squarely on his chest. "If you don't come back in one piece," she said, "I will personally come get you. And it won't be gentle."
Perseus chuckled, wincing faintly. "Understood."
Nyxia stepped forward and, without hesitation, pressed a kiss to his cheek. Her voice was a whisper meant only for him. "Thank you."
Then she turned.
With Boo at her side and Loque pacing silently behind, they passed beneath the carved stone arch of the temple gates and vanished into the rustling green beyond—toward the next shadow, the next truth, the next hunt.