Snow clawed at the sky in thick, sideways sheets, howling through the ravine like a beast that hadn't eaten in weeks. Three figures trudged through the frostbitten trail near Hunter's Haunt—barely visible specks swallowed by the white void. Their movements were slow, deliberate, each breath a cloud of steam.
Nyra led them, moving with a hunter's confidence carved from years in this cold. Her skin, a deep tan darkened by wind and sun, was etched with faint white tattoos similar to those of the Jotun—tribal markings that curved along her shoulders and arms. Short strands of silver hair, just brushing her shoulders, spilled from beneath her fur-lined hood, windswept and stark against her complexion. Crimson eyes burned beneath that hood, sharp and focused. Her armor was mismatched but built for movement: bracers wrapped around her forearms, thick leather straps coiled around her legs, and hardened plating covered her shins and boots. Across her torso, a single leather strap crossed over her chest, revealing her sculpted midsection and flat chest, her muscles flexing with each step. Her thighs powered through snow like pistons, each movement deliberate, efficient. She looked less like a soldier and more like a weapon tempered by hardship.
Beside her, Lukan kept a few paces back, his breath shallow and quick. He was lean, not built for endurance, but there was a wiry focus to the way he moved. His robes, dark with subtle runic stitching that barely caught the light, hung from his frame like an afterthought—as if their purpose was formality, not function. His black hair was short but messy, wind-tousled and unkempt, and his brown eyes scanned the path ahead with constant caution. There was a tension in his shoulders, not fear exactly, but wariness, like someone used to danger coming in forms he couldn't punch. A mage, through and through—more mind than muscle, more calculation than chaos.
Trailing just behind, Valen walked with a relaxed gait that belied the precision of his movements. He was lean but solid, every muscle shaped by years of fast kills and faster escapes. His sun-blonde hair, longer than either of the others', curled slightly beneath a snow-dusted hood, and his ice-blue eyes flicked from shadow to shadow with calculating ease. A thin scar crossed the bridge of his nose—faint but impossible to miss—an old wound that gave his otherwise sharp features a dangerous edge. Valen didn't carry himself like a soldier or a mage. He moved like a predator who'd learned to smile.
Wind screamed between the peaks, tearing at their cloaks, but it couldn't drown out the rising argument.
"Get down!" Lukan shouted, not in panic, but with trained urgency. A burst of flame erupted from his staff, carving through the blizzard to strike a Frost Salamander that had begun to scale the ridge above them. His robes—too thin for this place—whipped wildly in the gale, the polished gems on his staff catching flashes of firelight.
He gritted his teeth as another Salamander crested the slope. A second fireball flew, melting snow in its wake. Lukan's breath hitched as he fought to keep focus in the bitter cold.
"LET'S BRING THESE FREAKS DOWN!" Nyra's voice boomed over the storm. She was already charging, scars on her face catching the flickering light as she ducked low and swung her axe. The Salamander shrieked, its leg severed in a flash of crimson. Blood hissed into the snow.
She didn't even blink. "Stop crying, bitch," she muttered, more to herself than anyone.
Valen, quieter than the others, moved like water—graceful, precise. He slid under the beast's snapping jaws, blade slicing a long arc through its gut. The creature spasmed, collapsed. Valen rose without fanfare.
"Disgusting," he said under his breath.
They stood still for a moment, the only sound the wind and the fading twitch of dead flesh. Then Lukan collapsed onto a half-buried log, shoulders heaving. His face was flushed, sweat freezing on his skin.
"The Haunt's nothing like back home..."
Valen sheathed his blade with a sigh. "Is this guy really worth it?"
Nyra didn't hesitate. "He took down a hundred men. Barehanded. And lived."
"You saw that yourself?" Valen asked, eyebrow raised.
Nyra crossed her arms. "Yes. And he's a monster tamer. Knows the Demon's lands. He's not just some brute. He's a Nephilim."
Lukan squinted. "I thought he was a Jotun."
"Same thing? Not really. I don't know—it's complicated."
Valen smirked. "Sounds like you barely remember him."
"It's been years," Nyra snapped. "But I remember enough. He raised me, alright? Thal took me in when I had no one. I lived here for most of my life."
That silenced them for a moment.
Lukan cleared his throat. "Raised you? And you left?"
"I had to. Things... changed. But this place—it's still home."
Valen, unbothered as always, shrugged. "I'm just here to get paid. Let's find the giant."
The climb through the gorge was slow. Snowdrift didn't reveal itself all at once—it emerged from the storm in fragments: a rooftop buried in white, smoke curling from chimneys, the faint sound of hammering.
Jotun walked the paths like ghosts—tall, silent, etched with ritual tattoos. They watched the trio with idle curiosity. Lukan and Valen froze as the full scale of the town settled in.
"They're... enormous," Lukan whispered.
Valen nodded slowly. "Yeah. Seeing it's different."
Nyra strode ahead, waving to one of the giants. Her posture shifted slightly—less battle-hardened, more open, like a daughter returning home. The giant had a beard to his belt and a voice like a landslide.
"Oak! You still smell like boiled roots and ale."
The Jotun turned, eyes blinking through snow. A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Nyreen? By the frost... you've grown. And louder."
She grinned wide, that old teasing light in her crimson eyes. "Only a head shorter than you now. I should've brought a stool so I could finally punch you square in the chest. Is Thal here?"
Oak snorted, clearly amused. "Gone hunting. Still stubborn. Still quiet. But he'll be glad to see you. Neo's at the cabin."
Nyra's grin faded, and for a second, her eyes lingered on Oak. There was more she wanted to say—questions she wanted to ask, maybe even share a laugh like old times—but the moment passed. Her fingers twitched slightly at her side, restless. "Neo...?"
He nodded. She gave a small nod back, lips pressed thin like she was holding something in. Then she turned away quickly, the familiar weight of unspoken things anchoring her stride. Nyra gave Oak a polite nod. "We'll catch up."
Valen stepped forward slightly, offering a casual half-salute. "Nice to meet you, Oak."
Lukan nodded, though he kept his eyes low. "Thanks for the help."
Oak's gaze lingered on them both. His tone shifted—still friendly, but with an edge of something older, deeper. "Thal doesn't take kindly to trouble. Just be mindful how you speak. And what you assume."
Valen raised a brow but said nothing.
Lukan swallowed. "Understood."
Oak gave them a final look, then turned back toward the village, disappearing behind a veil of falling snow.
"Show Thal respect," Oak called after them. "He's been here longer than I have."
They passed through the town in silence, the towering homes and quiet stares pressing down on them. Snowdrift hadn't changed much since Nyra last saw it. Towering longhouses carved from dark timber leaned against one another like ancient sentinels, their steep roofs layered in thick blankets of snow. Braziers burned low at the corners of intersections, filling the air with the scent of pine pitch and cooked meat. Children, wrapped in furs, watched the trio from doorways, while older Jotun sharpened weapons or repaired tools in grim silence. Despite the heavy atmosphere, there was a rhythm to life here—steady, cold, and strong.
Nyra slowed her pace slightly, walking between her companions as they passed under a wooden arch etched with Jotun runes. "Before we reach Neo's place, you need to know something," she said quietly, her voice dropping just enough to catch their full attention.
Lukan frowned. "What is it?"
She glanced over her shoulder, then back ahead. "Neo... he's Kruul. Specifically, a Kruu'voth."
Lukan stiffened. "You brought us into a Kruul village?"
"No. Snowdrift isn't a Kruul village—never was. It's Jotun land. But Thal... he raised Neo here. Just like he raised me. And before you go spouting any of that 'I've heard stories' crap—he's different."
"They're never different," Lukan muttered. "You know what they did in Black Hollow."
Nyra stopped and faced him directly. "Neo didn't do shit in Black Hollow, Lukan. He wasn't there. He's not one of them, and you know it. You've heard stories—but so has everyone. That doesn't make them true, and it sure as hell doesn't make you right."
Valen raised a brow. "So... this Neo's the good kind of monster?"
"He's not a monster," Nyra snapped, her voice rougher now, almost protective. "He's my friend. Blaming him for what others did is like blaming the sky for thunder. He's saved more lives than either of you could count."
Lukan didn't reply, but his jaw clenched. Valen, sensing the tension, held up a hand. "Alright, alright. Just lead the way, Nyra."
She nodded and kept walking.
Valen broke the silence.
"So... Neo. Boyfriend?"
"Old friend," Nyra said, brushing hair from her face. "Shut up."
"Sounds like you're disappointed."
"Valen," Lukan warned.
They reached a lone cabin nestled in the trees. The sound of chopping had stopped. The door creaked open.
A figure emerged—tall, broad-shouldered, his silhouette almost blending with the shadows pouring from the trees. For a heartbeat, he didn't speak. His stance was tense, rigid, as if ready to strike or flee. His horns spiraled upward like carved obsidian, jagged and asymmetrical, as though grown by something not entirely of this world. His skin bore a faint sheen like polished stone dusted with frost. Black sclera framed irises that pulsed violet, their glow faint but steady, like coals that never cooled. A sleek, whip-like tail slid behind him, moving independently, curling as if tasting the air.
He looked human, at first—but only from a distance. Up close, everything was wrong in subtle, primal ways. His movements were too smooth, too quiet, like he didn't disturb the world around him. His presence didn't feel like someone standing in a doorway. It felt like something waiting inside a cave.
Neo. Kruu'voth. Not human. Not pretending to be.
His voice came out low and guarded, like a blade held behind the back. "Who are you?"
He stared for a heartbeat longer, eyes flicking briefly to the two behind her. The tension didn't vanish entirely, but it faded—bit by bit—as Nyra stepped forward.
"Neo... it's me," she said, and for the first time in days, her voice softened—not with weakness, but with familiarity. There was a flicker of something warmer behind her crimson eyes, like a fire rekindled in winter. The way she looked at him wasn't with caution or fear—it was with recognition, and something just shy of a smile.
Neo's gaze lingered on her. "Didn't think you'd ever drag your sorry boots back here."
Nyra smirked. "And I didn't think you'd still be here freezing your horns off."
He gave the faintest shrug. "Someone had to keep the place from collapsing."
She stepped closer, voice quieter. "And someone had to remind you how to smile."
Neo's lip twitched—just enough to hint he might.
His posture eased. A faint exhale left him, not relief exactly, but something adjacent. The hardness in his eyes faded just enough to reveal something rare—trust. He didn't smile, but the lines at the corners of his mouth softened, and his body no longer looked ready to strike.
"Nyra," he said quietly. "You're early. Come in."
Inside was warm, almost deceptively so compared to the blizzard outside. Firelight danced across thick pelts draped over massive furniture—benches, stools, and a table all clearly made for someone far larger than any of them. The ceiling stretched higher than a hall back in the capital, and the walls were lined with hunting trophies, ancient blades, and hanging charms carved from horn and bone. Everything had weight. Age. Purpose. Despite the raw size, the space gave off a strange sense of comfort—as if it had been lived in, not just built.
Still, Lukan and Valen hovered near the entrance like they weren't sure if they were allowed to sit or speak. Lukan's gaze flicked from the oversized chairs to the huge firepit sunken into the floor. "Why is everything so... big?"
Valen muttered under his breath, "Feels like we walked into a troll's den."
Nyra just shook her head, clearly at home. "You're guests. Try not to act like children."
Neo's eyes swept them. "You trust them?"
"They're with me."
He nodded slowly. "Then they're fine."
Valen leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of him. "Yearly hunt? What do you mean, like he just hunts once a year? That seems... insufficient."
Neo leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. "Neither is Thal."
Lukan remained silent, but his eyes stayed on Neo, studying him with unease. Eventually, he spoke.
"You're... Kruu'voth, right?"
Neo nodded once, slowly.
Lukan's tone turned cold. "I've heard stories. About your kind."
Neo didn't react. "I've heard stories about yours too."
The silence thickened. Neo's eyes stayed locked with Lukan's, both unmoving—neither blinking, neither backing down. The fire crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows across their faces.
Then, without looking, Nyra reached out and gave Lukan a light slap to the back of the head.
"Enough," she muttered. "You're not going to win a staring contest with someone who doesn't blink."
Valen raised a brow at Lukan. "You got a problem?"
"No," Lukan lied. "Not yet."
Nyra stepped between them. "Enough. He's not like the others. He saved my life more than once. I wouldn't be here without him."
Neo looked at her but said nothing. The fire cracked, and the weight in the room hung unspoken.
Neo pushed off the wall, moving toward the fire with a glide that was too quiet for someone his size. He stirred the logs once, sending a few embers spiraling upward, then glanced at Nyra again.
"You really brought them all this way... just to find Thal?"
Nyra nodded, settling onto a wide bench without hesitation. "It's more than that. We need his help."
Neo's brow lowered slightly. "That's dangerous."
Before Nyra could respond, Neo cut in with a coy smile. "Well, it would be. But he only eats once a year. So no—not insufficient as you say."
Valen blinked, momentarily unsure if that was a joke or a threat.
Nyra jabbed him in the side with her elbow, hard enough to make him grunt. "Watch it."
As the fire crackled warmly, the group settled into an uneasy silence, save for the faint sound of the wind brushing against the cabin walls. Neo's tail curled lazily around the leg of his chair as his glowing eyes flicked between the group.
"So," Neo began, his calm voice breaking the stillness, "what have you been up to, Nyra? Eight years is a long time."
Nyra smiled faintly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "Oh, you know. Chopping things down. Keeping these two from killing themselves... or each other."
She gestured to Lukan and Valen, but her tone softened when she added, "I've missed this place. And you, honestly."
Neo's lip twitched into the faintest smile, though his gaze didn't quite meet hers. "You haven't changed much. Still getting yourself into trouble, I bet."
Nyra chuckled, brushing a stray strand of silver hair behind her ear. "You could say that. But it's the kind of trouble worth having."
Valen, already smirking, leaned forward. "So, Neo—how's it feel having Nyra chase you down after all these years?"
Nyra's eyes widened. "Valen!"
Neo tilted his head slightly, his glowing eyes lingering on her. "Chasing me? That's... optimistic. I think you're imagining things."
"Just an old friend, huh?" Valen said, still grinning.
"Valen, shut up," Nyra hissed, her cheeks flushed.
Neo leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his voice still calm. "Poking at people you barely know—that's a dangerous habit."
Valen shrugged. "Danger keeps things interesting."
Lukan, sitting stiffly near the edge of his seat, finally spoke. "So, Neo. What exactly makes you trustworthy? You say you're different from the rest of your kind, but why should we believe that?"
The warmth in the room seemed to waver. Neo's glowing gaze locked onto Lukan, but his expression didn't change. "Because Nyra trusts me. And if that's not enough for you, you're welcome to leave."
The fire snapped. Neo's tail curled tighter around the leg of his chair, his gaze unreadable. No one said anything for a long time.
Nyra leaned back, rubbing her palms together near the flame. "Is he still the same?"
Neo didn't look at her. "You know better than to ask that."
A long moment passed and a quiet tension returned thicker than before. Something was coming. Then the door groaned. Snow blew in around a towering silhouette. Boots heavy as stone thudded onto the wooden floor, scattering frost and then they saw him. Thal. No one moved. Even the fire seemed to shrink back from him.
He filled the doorway like a slab of stone carved into the shape of a man. Taller than any Jotun in the village and broader still, he looked more myth than flesh. His long black hair was tangled and wet from the storm, cascading past his shoulders in thick, matted strands. A massive beard, wild and frost-kissed, framed a jaw like a granite cliff. His golden eyes burned beneath heavy brows—sharp, unreadable, ancient. His skin was a dark tan, marred with scars that traced his arms and neck like weathered cracks in stone. Fur armor stretched across his titanic frame, patched with iron and leather, yet even beneath the thick material, his muscles bulged visibly—massive and defined, as if threatening to tear through the fabric with every breath. His sheer physicality radiated power, a presence that made the air feel smaller around him. A cloak of enormous beast hide dragged behind him, the pelt dusted in snow and bits of broken twig.
He scanned the room slowly, not with suspicion, but with weight—like every glance carried judgment. His eyes landed on Nyra and stayed there.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The weight of his silence pushed the others into stillness.
Neo stood first, giving a slow nod. "You're back earlier than usual."
Thal grunted once. Not a word—just acknowledgment.
Nyra rose to her feet, her voice uncertain despite everything. "You look... older."
His eyes flicked toward her, then to Valen and Lukan, then back.
"You brought strangers," Thal said. His voice was deep and rough, like stone grinding on stone.
"They need you," Nyra replied. "We all do."
Thal stepped inside fully, the door creaking shut behind him with a low boom.
Tor's large brown eyes softened, and she crouched slightly to meet Nyra's embrace, her thick arms wrapping gently around the much smaller woman. Tar, though expressionless as always, let out a deep huff that sounded almost like a chuckle. When Nyra turned to hug him, she barely reached his chest, but he placed a massive hand on her back, a subtle gesture of affection.
"It's been so long!" Nyra said, looking up at them with a grin. "I've missed you two!"
Tor tilted her head slightly, her large hand gesturing in quick signs to Nyra, who smiled and nodded.
"Oh, right!" Nyra turned back to the group. "These are my companions Valen and Lukan. Don't mind them—they're just not used to... well, you."
Valen managed a weak wave, his usual bravado utterly absent. "Uh... hi."
Lukan didn't even try to speak, simply nodding stiffly as he avoided eye contact with Tar, who loomed over him like a mountain.
Neo, on the other hand, remained unfazed. Leaning casually against the wall, his glowing eyes flicked toward Thal. "Welcome back," he said calmly. "Good hunt?"
Thal's deep, rumbling voice filled the room as he stepped forward, his presence even more commanding up close. "Good enough," he said simply, his tone as unyielding as his physique. He dropped a large sack onto the floor with a heavy thud, the scent of blood wafting from it.
Tor and Tar exchanged a look—Tor pointing toward the sack, Tar giving a single nod. They moved to unpack it, pulling out several massive carcasses of creatures Valen and Lukan didn't even recognize.
Nyra turned back to Thal, her grin unwavering. "Thal, it's so good to see you again! You're as big as ever."
Thal let out a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating through the room. "And you're as talkative as ever, little Nyra." He patted her on the head with a hand that could easily engulf it. "It's been a while."
And for a moment, the cabin felt impossibly full—heat, tension, history, and the quiet hum of something gathering.
Neo glanced from the fire to Thal. "I didn't come all this way for a reunion though."
Thal didn't move, didn't blink.
Thal raised a thick brow, his gaze shifting to Neo and then to the uneasy Lukan and Valen. "Help with what?"
Nyra stepped forward. "We'll explain everything, but... it's not something we can handle alone."
Thal's expression turned serious, his piercing gaze locking onto her. "If you've come all this way, I'll hear you out."
Tor and Tar finished unpacking the hunt, their silent presence still looming over the room as the group prepared to explain their mission to Thal. Valen and Lukan exchanged nervous glances, still trying to process the sheer scale of the allies they'd just met. Meanwhile, Nyra couldn't help but feel a surge of hope—if anyone could help them, it was Thal and his silent, steadfast companions.
As Nyra explained their mission to Thal, the hulking Nephilim listened intently, his thick arms crossed over his chest. Neo's calm measured voice laid out the details, with Nyra jumping in occasionally, her excitement making her words tumble out in bursts. Thal didn't say much, nodding here and there, his sharp eyes glancing between the two as he absorbed the information.
Meanwhile, Valen and Lukan, still uneasy in the presence of the towering Minotaur twins, stood off to the side, whispering to each other.
"Hey," Valen muttered, leaning toward Lukan, "is it just me, or do their names feel... kinda simple? Tor and Tar? That's it?"
Lukan nodded, his brow furrowed. "I was thinking the same thing. For creatures as... imposing as they are, you'd expect something more... elaborate?"
Valen nudged Nyra as she momentarily stepped away from the conversation with Thal. "Hey, Nyra, quick question. What's up with their names? Tor and Tar? Doesn't exactly scream mystical beast to me."
Nyra blinked at him, then smirked. "Simple names? Yeah, that's just how Nephilim do things. They're not into flashy names. At least, that's my theory."
Valen cocked an eyebrow. "What kind of theory?"
"Well," Nyra said with a shrug, "I've noticed that Nephilim guys' names usually have an 'a' but no 'o,' and girls' names are the opposite. You know, like Thal, Tar, Tor. Just a pattern I picked up."
Lukan's curiosity piqued. "So, Thal raised them?" He glanced toward the twins, who were now silently stacking the freshly skinned hides from Thal's hunt. Their massive, stoic presence made it hard to picture them as anything but untamed beasts.
Nyra gave him a sideways look. "Of course, he raised them. Who else would've named them? Did you forget? Thal's a monster tamer. They've been with him as long as I've known him."
Valen scratched his head. "Okay, but what about Neo? He's got an 'o' in his name, and he's a guy. That breaks your little theory, doesn't it?"
Nyra rolled her eyes, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "I don't know, Valen. Why don't you ask him yourself?" She tilted her head toward Neo, who stood near the fire, casually leaning against the wall. His glowing purple eyes flicked over to the trio.
Valen and Lukan froze, their gazes snapping to Neo. His calm demeanor didn't change, but the eerie glow of his eyes and the faint curl of his tail were enough to send a shiver down their spines.
Valen cleared his throat, forcing a laugh. "You know what? I think I'll pass on that one."
"Yeah," Lukan muttered, gripping his staff a little tighter. "Some mysteries are better left unsolved."
Nyra stifled a laugh, turning back to the conversation with Thal, while Valen and Lukan exchanged uneasy glances. Whatever the reason behind Neo's name, they decided it wasn't worth the risk of finding out.
The warm crackle of the fire provided a stark contrast to the heavy tension hanging in the air. Nyra had just finished explaining, her voice steady but her words cutting through the room like the edge of a blade.
"The Kruul King and his Archons have been waging war against humanity. Entire villages have been razed to the ground, and cities are on high alert. We need a guide through the Kruul lands—someone who knows their terrain better than anyone. That's why we came to you, Thal."
Thal stood still, his massive frame towering in the room, his fur cloak draped over his broad shoulders like a shadow. His arms were crossed, but his grip on them was firm, his knuckles white against the leather straps of his bracers. His face betrayed nothing, though the faintest flicker of something—conflict, perhaps—seemed to pass through his storm grey eyes.
Neo, leaning against the wall with his tail idly curling and uncurling at his feet, was just as unreadable. His eyes lingered on the fire, reflecting its flickering light but revealing no hint of his thoughts. His calm demeanor hadn't shifted, though his fingers briefly drummed against his folded arms before going still again.
The silence stretched, the weight of it pressing down on Valen and Lukan. Both men exchanged uneasy glances, the enormity of the situation starting to sink in.
Lukan, his staff clutched tightly in his hands, broke the silence. "The Kruul King's actions are unforgivable. He's slaughtering innocents! Humanity has every right to fight back. This... war isn't unprovoked."
At that, Neo's eyes slowly shifted to Lukan. Though his expression didn't change, there was something piercing about his gaze, as if he were weighing every word the mage said. Lukan faltered under the intensity of it but didn't look away.
Valen cleared his throat, trying to ease the tension. "Look, no one's saying this isn't messy, but the fact remains: if we don't stop the Kruul King, more people will die. You've seen what they're capable of." His voice softened, almost conspiratorial. "That's why we need you, Thal. Who else could get us through Kruul territory alive?"
Nyra glanced nervously at Thal, noticing the way his jaw tightened ever so slightly. She wasn't used to seeing him like this—so still, so silent.
Finally, Thal spoke, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "The Kruul King..." He paused, his words deliberate, each one carrying a weight that silenced the room further. "...has his reasons. Just as humanity has theirs."
Lukan stiffened, his expression tightening. "Reasons? What reason could justify what he's done?"
Thal's gaze didn't waver, though his voice softened, tinged with something resembling sorrow. "And what reason justified what humanity has done to them?"
The room fell silent again, the fire's crackle the only sound.
Nyra and Valen hesitated, their gaze flicking between Thal and Neo.
Lukan's voice rose, frustration creeping in. "Complicated? What's complicated about a king who's unleashed his armies on innocent people?"
Neo, who had remained silent until now, spoke, his voice as calm and even as ever. "You speak as though humanity is innocent." His eyes met Lukan's, unblinking. "But tell me, how do they treat the Kruul who surrender? Who are captured?"
Lukan's mouth opened, then closed. He knew the answer. Everyone did. The Kruul weren't treated as prisoners of war. They were treated as animals—enslaved, humiliated, or worse.
Neo pushed off the wall, his steps slow and deliberate as he approached the group. "You call them monsters," he continued, his gaze sweeping over the humans, "but what does it say about you when you make them so?"
Valen shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Neo's words settling heavily in the room.
Nyra stepped forward, her voice gentler than before. "Thal, I know this isn't easy," she said, looking up at the towering Nephilim. "But if we don't do something, it'll only get worse. More lives will be lost—human and Kruul alike."
Thal's gaze dropped to the fire, the flames reflecting in his stormy eyes. For a long moment, he said nothing. His silence was deafening, and yet it spoke volumes.
Valen, ever the opportunist, tried to lighten the mood. "You know," he said with a forced chuckle, "this would be a lot easier if everyone just got along and stopped trying to kill each other."
Nyra shot him a glare, but Neo's lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. "If only it were that simple."
Finally, Thal straightened, his voice breaking the silence. "I'll take you through the Kruul lands," he said, his tone steady but heavy with unspoken emotion. "But understand this: the path ahead is dangerous—not just because of the Kruul, but because of what you might learn along the way."
His words sent a chill through the room, the weight of them pressing down on the humans in a way that felt almost suffocating. Neither Valen nor Lukan dared to ask what he meant.
"Then it's settled," Nyra said, her voice a mix of relief and determination. "Thank you, Thal."
Thal simply nodded, his gaze lingering on the fire as though it held the answers to questions none of them dared to ask. Neo, standing beside him, remained silent, his expression calm.
Whatever thoughts lingered in their minds, they stayed hidden, leaving Valen and Lukan to grapple with the uneasy realization that this mission was far more complicated than they'd anticipated.
As the night deepened, the cabin felt smaller, the flickering firelight casting long shadows across the stone walls. The weight of the impending journey lingered in the air, thick with unspoken thoughts and heavy expectations.
Valen stood by the door, his arms crossed and his gaze fixed on the darkening sky outside. "We should head out now, get a head start. The longer we wait, the more time we give them to prepare. We could easily cover a good distance before night fully settles in," he said, his voice firm and insistent.
Lukan, his brow furrowed, didn't seem entirely convinced but nodded. "Yeah, the sooner we're moving, the better." His grip tightened on his staff, his impatience clear. He wasn't a fan of waiting, especially when there was so much at stake.
But Nyra, sitting on the floor with the Minotaur's, didn't share their urgency. She gave a gentle shake of her head, her eyes glancing toward the fire before meeting their gazes. "We're not going anywhere tonight," she said softly, the tone of her voice final but with an underlying warmth. "It's dusk, and the Kruul lands are no place to travel at night."
Neo, who had been leaning casually against the wall, straightened and spoke up, his voice as calm and logical as ever. "It's a stupid idea to leave now. If you're not familiar with Kruul territory, you'd be walking straight into danger." He gave a slight glance toward the door. "Better to rest now, regroup, and leave in the morning when we can actually see where we're going."
Valen and Lukan exchanged a glance, clearly frustrated by the delay but begrudgingly accepting the logic of Neo's words. Neither of them wanted to argue with someone who had such a clear understanding of the land ahead of them.
Tar and Tor, the Minotaur twins, had already begun to settle in with their food. The sizzling sound of fresh game being torn apart and eaten filled the cabin, the primal nature of the feast unmistakable. Tor, the female, was more animated, her large hands tearing into the meat with eagerness, letting out occasional contented grunts as she passed pieces to Nyra. She seemed particularly affectionate with Nyra, brushing against her side with a friendly nudge and a soft growl of enjoyment.
Nyra smiled, her eyes softening as she petted Tor's thick fur. "It's been so long," she murmured, her voice almost nostalgic. "You two haven't changed a bit, have you?" Tor let out a low, pleased hum, resting her massive head on Nyra's shoulder for a moment, showing an affection that was rare in the cold world they inhabited.
Tar, on the other hand, remained still, eating his share of the game with the same stoic silence he always carried. His gaze was steady, observing the room with the same piercing intensity he always had. Though he didn't show much emotion, there was a subtle protectiveness in the way he watched Tor and Nyra, the connection between them as unmistakable as the mountains outside.
Valen and Lukan hadn't interacted much with Minotaur's before. The contrast between Tor's playful nature and Tar's brooding silence was unsettling. Combined with lingering stories from human society, it left them quietly unnerved.
Valen shifted, feeling the weight of the uncomfortable silence growing. "So, what, we're just going to sit here with them all night?" His voice carried a hint of disdain, though he wasn't directing it at anyone specifically. It was the situation that left him frustrated. "We could be making progress, but instead, we're stuck in here, waiting for daylight."
Nyra glanced at him but didn't respond directly. Instead, she let her gaze linger on Tor and Tar, who seemed to be in their own world, their massive forms an undeniable presence in the room.
"I'm fine with staying here for the night," Nyra said, her voice soft as she stroked Tor's fur, enjoying the bond she shared with the Minotaur. "They're good company, and we've got time to rest and recover."
Neo, having been preparing some food for the humans, placed a few steaming plates in front of Valen, Lukan, and Nyra. The meat was hearty, the flavours intense, and the seasoning unfamiliar to the human palate spices that seemed to burn in a way that hinted at the wildness of the land Thal, and his companions came from. It was rough, untamed, but it spoke of strength, of survival.
"This is what we'll eat," Neo said with his usual calm, though his eyes glinted slightly in the firelight. "Don't expect anything more delicate." His tone was matter of fact, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice, as though he knew this would be a far cry from anything the humans were used to.
Tar gave a low, rumbling laugh, his massive shoulders shaking as he tore into his portion of the meat, while Tor shared a playful glance with Nyra, almost as if trying to get her to match the hearty pace.
Lukan and Valen reluctantly sat down, eyeing the meat but hesitating as they tried to reconcile their unease with their hunger.
Outside, Thal had gone to the edge of the cabin, his silhouette hunched against the dying light. Neo followed shortly after, footsteps silent. They didn't speak, didn't need to. They stood beside each other in silence—and for now, that was enough.
With the two giants of the group stepping outside to unwind, the cabin's atmosphere grew quieter. The fire crackled softly as the humans ate in silence, their discomfort with their surroundings still thick in the air.
But Nyra, sitting among the Minotaur's, felt a sense of peace that had been absent for too long. Her fingers absentmindedly ran through Tor's fur as the Minotaur nuzzled into her side affectionately. She hadn't realized how much she missed the company of these creatures—how their loyalty and simplicity brought comfort when everything else seemed so complex and fraught with danger.
Valen and Lukan, however, couldn't shake their unease. They knew they were in the presence of beings far beyond their understanding, and they were unsure how to navigate the tension that simmered beneath the surface. Despite the growing camaraderie between Nyra and the Minotaur's, they couldn't ignore the stark differences between their worlds. The silence stretched on, the weight of it settling over them as the night deepened and the fire slowly flickered low.