A small pitstop.

Chapter 43 pt 2.

Noor’s voice cut through the quiet clearing like a whip. “Come on, man, put some balls into it!” she yelled, clearly frustrated but wearing that trademark smirk. Still, there was a flicker of tension in the way she stood, arms crossed a little too tightly, her foot tapping against the ground like a ticking clock. Beneath the teasing exterior, there was urgency. that made it hard to take her too seriously.

“I’m trying!” I snapped back, sweat beading on my brow. The incantation was right, the hand movement fluid, the stance precise. So why the hell isn’t it working?!

Leaning lazily against a crooked tree, Noor watched with mild amusement. Her dark purple eyes shimmered in the dappled sunlight, full of mischief. “Have you tried using your brain? Apparently, it helps,” she teased, the corner of her mouth curling upward.

“I thought you wanted to help me get better, not make me feel like an idiot,” I grumbled, conjuring another pitiful spark that fizzled out before it reached the target.

She sauntered toward me with the grace of a panther. “I am helping. Your middle finger’s off.” She nudged my hand into the correct position. “There. Try again, fireboy.”

I gave her a look, half amused, half annoyed. She rolled her eyes, but laughter bubbled beneath the surface. “Gods, you’re such a pig.”

But her remark worked. I took a breath, focused, and tried again. This time, fire burst from my palm in a roaring wave, engulfing the straw dummy Noor had conjured. Heat licked the air, the roar of flames crackling like applause in my ears. It wasn’t just a spell. It was a triumph.

“Whoa,” I muttered, eyes wide.

“Told you it’d get better,” Noor said as she closed the distance between us. Her lips met mine in a fierce kiss hot, confident, and laced with pride. Her lips tasted of citrus and fire, an intoxicating mix that clashed against the cool evening air, making the heat of the kiss all the more striking that sent a jolt through my entire body. It was like kissing a storm and daring it to strike again.

When we finally broke apart, I could barely think straight. “So,” I began breathlessly, “have you made progress with the Celestial Atraxia?”

She chuckled, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Celestia Ataraxia,” she corrected. “And yeah, I’ve got a few new tricks up my sleeve.”

“Iris told me what you did back in Argos. Said you nearly crushed that Erebosian giant with a single spell.”

Noor's smile faded, replaced by a shadow of frustration. “Yeah... and he’s still walking. I should’ve ended him. That’s why I’m pushing myself harder. If we’re going to win, I can’t afford to be weak. I hate feeling like an insect waiting to be crushed.”

I offered a grin. “You have no idea how hot it is when you’re pissed off.”

She laughed, despite herself. “Idiot.”

“Come on, you like me.”

She didn’t answer, but the smirk on her face said enough.

I leaned against a rock, catching my breath. “So, what have you learned from the book? Anything useful?”

Her eyes darkened. “Plenty. Some of it’s nightmare fuel. Necromancy looks like child’s play compared to the stuff in there. But there’s more. Healing magic real, powerful stuff. There was this warlock, Lakrinon, who wanted to become a god. Claimed he found a way to fully restore mortals from the brink of ****.”

My eyes widened. “You mean like real resurrection? Not just some puppet corpse?”

“Exactly. Bring them back as they were.” She hesitated, voice dipping into something quieter. “But he was obsessed. Wanted to bring back someone he loved. I think he lost a child, maybe a partner. The details are blurry, even in the book. But the desperation bleeds through every page, and I... I understand it more than I’d like to admit. And trust me, mixing love and ****? It never ends well.”

There was something haunted in her gaze now. The fire and playfulness had dimmed. “That book… it isn’t just old spells and runes. It whispers to me. Like it’s alive, like a thousand voices murmuring just beneath my hearing, a slithering chorus that mimics my own thoughts until I can’t tell where mine end and it begins. It’s not just a sound. It’s a presence. Cold. And Menacing. Watching me. I feel it scraping at the edges of my thoughts every time I open it. It’s powerful… but it’s hungry.”

A chill ran down my spine. I stepped closer. “Then maybe it’s not worth it. If it’s changing you—”

“I have to understand it,” she said quickly. “I can’t stop now. I need to know what it is… what it wants. If we don’t understand it, we’re walking blind into the fire.”

The air between us grew still. Ash and the lingering scent of burnt straw hung on the wind. I reached out, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

“Just promise me you won’t lose yourself,” I said.

She met my eyes. The smirk was gone. Her voice was quiet, but unwavering. “I promise.”

From the top of the hillside, where the camp was nestled, Iris and Aerys overlooked the training session below.

“He’s good... or, well, he’s getting better at it,” Aerys remarked, arms crossed as she leaned beside her cousin. “Though I still don’t know how you two are going to make your little arrangement work. I mean, if Kayn were my partner, I wouldn’t be thrilled about sharing him.”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Iris replied with a light chuckle, her gaze softening as she watched Kayn. “Honestly, it’s kind of fun. And I know Kayn loves us equally. He’s too much of a softie to hurt our feelings....he’d rather set himself on fire than pick one of us over the other.”

“Yeah, but come on, cous. Do you really want to share him with the witch? I seriously don’t get you sometimes.”

“I had doubts at first,” Iris admitted, her voice growing more thoughtful. “Noor and I didn’t exactly hit it off in the beginning. But the more time I spent with her, the more I saw... she’s lonely. I think she feels just as alone as Ikaro and I did after Father died.” She exhaled deeply. “Maybe she found something real with us, something worth holding onto. Our small, strange little romance... it works.”

Aerys didn’t respond immediately. Iris’s words lingered in her mind, stirring something quiet and tender. She hadn’t spoken about it to anyone...not even Iris, but she missed her family, her home. Despite all her grumbling, she felt the ache of distance like a bruise that never quite faded. And while she’d never admit it aloud, she did find Kayn attractive.

“It’s funny,” Aerys said at last, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. “All I wanted was to leave Sparta and travel the continent. Find adventure, maybe fall in love somewhere along the way. I don’t regret my decision, not even a little, but... I miss that old one-eyed bastard.” She laughed, her tone both nostalgic and warm.

Iris returned her smile with a knowing one of her own. “Yeah, sometimes I miss the old family life too. Speaking of…”

Both girls turned to see Ikaro crouched a few yards away, intently examining something near the crop line. He looked so focused that he barely noticed their approach.

“Something you want to share with us, brother?!” Iris called out.

Ikaro flinched, clearly pulled from deep thought. “Gods, sis, I’m right here! No need to scream like a gorgon.”

Both girls giggled at his retort.

“But yeah,” he said more seriously, rising to his feet and walking toward them. “I want your opinion on something.” He held up a shriveled apple, its skin dark and unnaturally puckered.

“Yeah, it’s rotten. So?” Iris asked, puzzled.

“Sure, but doesn’t it look wrong? Like... even for a rotten apple?” His voice held an unease that made Iris frown.

She took the fruit from his hand and examined it more closely. That’s when she saw it, the decay wasn’t natural. The rot wasn’t eating away at an old apple. It looked like something had accelerated the process, warping it at the core. Even in its prime, this apple had been doomed.

“What in the name of Zeus…?” she murmured.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” Ikaro said, motioning to the nearby tree and the crops surrounding it. “It’s not just one fruit. The whole patch is like this, rotting from the inside out.”

Aerys stepped closer, her brows drawn. “What the fuck?”

“Exactly,” Ikaro replied. “And look at the tree, every fruit on it is spoiled, and the leaves are brittle. Whatever this is, it’s not natural.”

“Maybe the land’s cursed,” Aerys suggested with a shrug, though her voice lacked conviction.

“Unlikely,” Ikaro said grimly. “If it were a curse, we’d feel the effects too. This is targeted, someone did this.”

“But why?” Iris asked, her voice laced with dread.
“Who would want to do this to the crops?”

Ikaro’s expression darkened. “I don’t know. But I have a bad feeling we’ll find out soon enough. When we reach the satyr’s hometown... we need to stay alert. The answers are there, whether we like them or not.”

-a small gift from not posting after a while ;) (That's Noor).