Aric
I held my sword tight, knuckles aching around the grip. The steel felt heavier than it should, like even the weapon was bracing itself for what was about to come.
The air around us was a furnace of iron and echoes. Massive gears turned endlessly, their teeth grinding against each other, spitting sparks into the void. Chains dangled from above, swaying with groans like the world itself was straining under their weight.
Beside me stood a woman crimson hair cascading down her back, streaked with sharp veins of white that glimmered under the dim glow of the gears. She didn't say a word, but I could see her hand flexing at her side, itching for the fight the same way I was.
We both looked up.
And there it was.
The figure.
Black as pitch, its body half-formed, a shadow among the chains. Dozens of links coiled around its frame like they weren't binding it but worshiping it. The figure's head tilted, too slow, too deliberate, like it was studying us.
The sound of grinding metal deepened. Chains tightened, sparks fell.
And then the thing smiled.
Boom.
The clash of gears, the weight of the chains, that smile...
I jolted awake, gasping, drenched in a cold sweat. My chest heaved as if I had run miles, but all I had done was sleep. The ceiling above me was quiet, smooth, nothing like the iron nightmare I had just crawled out of.
"Aric…"
Her voice was soft, steady the kind of voice that could untangle storms. I turned my head to see Elara, her golden eyes heavy with concern, strands of her dark hair falling loose around her face as she reached for me.
"You're shaking again," she murmured, sliding closer, wrapping her arms around me. The warmth of her body pressed against the chill clinging to mine. "It's alright. It was just a nightmare."
I shut my eyes, letting the sound of her heartbeat anchor me.
The nightmare. The same nightmare. Gears grinding, chains twisting, a woman with crimson hair and white streaks standing beside me. And always… always that black figure smiling from the dark.
My hand trembled as I rubbed at my face. "Elara… it felt so real this time."
Her fingers brushed through my dreads, slow and calming, her lips grazing my temple. "It isn't real. You're here. With me."
I wanted to believe her. I wanted her warmth to burn the nightmare out of me. But deep down… I knew.
It wasn't just a dream.
I let out a long breath, forcing my trembling hand to steady. Elara caught it gently, guiding it down until it rested on the swell of her belly.
"Feel that?" she whispered with a small smile, her fingers lacing through mine. "That's real."
The warmth beneath my palm wasn't just hers anymore. There was life there fragile, precious, ours. The nightmare's chains seemed to loosen in my chest.
"You're right," I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers. "That's all that matters."
We stayed like that for a while, trading soft words in the dark. She teased me about how stubborn our child would be if they inherited my temper, and I told her I hoped they got her smile instead. Slowly, the night ebbed into something gentler, less sharp.
---
Hours later, the morning light cut across the streets. The city was alive again, full of noise, chatter, and the smell of bread baking somewhere I couldn't see. I pushed the door open to the little flower shop on the corner, bells chiming overhead.
"Hey there, Ivory!" I called out cheerfully.
The bunny woman jumped so hard she dropped the broom she was holding, the wooden handle clattering against the mess of petals and stems on the ground. Her long ears shot straight up like startled flags before folding tight against her head.
"A-Aric!" she squeaked, clutching her chest as though I'd swung at her instead of just said hello. "You nearly scared me to death…"
I blinked, scratching my cheek awkwardly. "Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to sneak up on you."
Her face went red as she bent down quickly to gather the mess, still avoiding my eyes. Timid as always.
I crouched down to help her gather the petals, though she flinched a little at my hands brushing close to hers. Poor Ivory even after all this time, she still spooked like a rabbit in the wild.
It had been six months since we'd found her in the middle of that disaster, shaking and covered in soot, ears drooping like they were too heavy to lift anymore. Six months of slow steps, of rebuilding, of reminding her she wasn't alone.
"Here," I said as I stood, brushing off my hands. I pulled a small wooden box from my satchel and held it out to her.
Her ears twitched, eyes widening a little. "For… me?"
I nodded with a grin. "Elara made too much again. She insisted you have some. Said you'd probably skip lunch if left to your own devices."
Ivory froze for a moment, then took the box with careful hands, as though it might crumble if she held it too tightly. A faint smile tugged at her lips shy, but real.
"Tell her… thank you," she whispered, ears drooping forward to hide her face. "Really… thank you."
I chuckled softly. "I'll tell her. Just don't make me look bad by saying she's a better cook than me."
That earned the smallest giggle from her quick, breathless, but bright enough to push some of the morning gloom away.