I was surprised—no, frightened—by Sky's behavior.
At one moment, he was the most fragile thing in the world, and at another, the most deceiving demon I'd ever seen.
But what I hated the most was that I almost fell for his tricks.
Why?
Did I really fall for them?
"Never call me Master," I said sharply. "Call me Vita. That's my name."
He tilted his head, his pale hair glinting faintly in the forest light. "Vita," he murmured. "What were you thinking when you gave me my name—Sky?"
It was such a simple question. Innocent, even. But Sky was anything but a normal child. Was he even a child at all?
I knew I should be careful when speaking to him, yet for some reason, I decided to answer honestly. Maybe because I wanted him to be honest with me too.
"I wanted to give you hope," I said quietly. "For me, the sky is hope. There was a time in my life when I wanted to throw myself off a rooftop every single day. But each morning, I'd look up and see that beautiful blue sky... and I'd think—if it's still that beautiful, then maybe it's worth living one more day. Your blue eyes reminded me of that. I wanted you to have that same hope."
Sky's eyes widened. For a few seconds, he said nothing. His gaze lingered on mine, then drifted down to my lips. I couldn't read his thoughts. The silence between us grew colder, heavier, like a shadow pressing down on my chest.
Then, suddenly, he spoke—his voice calm, but laced with something like triumph.
"I believe you, Vita."
I froze.
What did he mean? Why believe me? Why say that out loud?
I tried to understand, but my thoughts were interrupted by a sharp realization:
I was alone with him. Deep in the forest. Riven wasn't here.
If Sky turned on me, I wouldn't stand a chance.
My pulse quickened, but I forced myself not to show it.
He rose slowly to his feet, trembling as if exhausted, then took a few steps toward me.
"Don't be afraid, Vita," he whispered. His eyes gleamed coldly, and a faint, vicious smile curved his lips. "As long as you cherish me... you'll be safe."
A chill ran down my spine.
Then I remembered—Sky had said that giving him a name connected our hearts.
Did that mean he could read my mind?
I looked at him, terrified. The thought alone felt like an arrow through my chest. I hated being watched, exposed. And in this world—Sylyncia—I had no powers. I was human, vulnerable. All I had was my mind. If Sky could see through me, then I was completely defenseless.
He met my gaze, as if hearing my thoughts.
"Yes," he said softly. "I can see through you."
I almost broke down right there. But I held my composure, forced a shaky smile, and said, "You're blushing. Our hearts are connected, not our brains."
I stood and stepped closer to him—steady, deliberate. His face was at the same height as mine, his expression unreadable. I studied every detail of his delicate, beautiful face, searching for even the slightest reaction. He stayed calm but slightly surprised, the corners of his lips curling upward.
"So?" he asked.
"You can only feel what I feel," I said, keeping my voice steady.
He reached out, his hand cold against my cheek. Leaning close, he whispered in my ear, his breath ghosting over my skin:
"It's hard to deceive you, Master... Maybe you're worth the effort after all."
Then, with a faint smile, he added,
"I hope you survive."
I forced a smile and placed my hand gently on his cheek.
"What do you want, Sky?" I asked softly. "I'm… curious about you."
He lowered his gaze, and in that moment, I felt it—sadness, faint but raw, blooming somewhere deep in my chest.
Bingo.
So the connection works both ways. I can feel his emotions too.
A strange thought crossed my mind: maybe no one had ever asked him what he wanted before.
"I… don't know," he murmured. His voice trembled slightly, though he tried to hide it behind that cold, unreadable mask. "I never thought of it. I didn't have time to. I just… needed to survive."
For a second, his words pierced through me, and something inside me ached.
But I couldn't afford to let my feelings get in the way. Not here. Not with him.
If I started feeling sorry for Sky, I'd lose control—and probably my life.
So I buried the warmth rising in my chest and forced myself to think strategically.
I needed answers, and I had to disguise my questions—make them sound like concern, like the kind of interest that could make him trust me.
The kind people get addicted to.
"How old are you, Sky?" I asked gently, keeping my tone casual.
A simple question. Ordinary.
But for someone who'd never known care, being asked about himself was probably… something rare.
He looked up, his expression unreadable.
"I'm a hundred years old," he said.
My mind went blank.
"What?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. "You're kidding, right? You look barely fifteen!"
I pulled my hand away from his face and took a few steps back. "You're older than my grandpa?" I muttered under my breath. The whole situation suddenly felt absurd—an innocent, almost gentle bond between a twenty-three-year-old woman and a man who had lived for a century.
All this time, I thought I was dealing with a boy—someone like my little brother. Sky had reminded me of him in so many ways... until I found out the truth.
Through the link between us, I felt something heavy—fear, fragile and aching. It wasn't mine. It was his. He was terrified of being rejected.
Then, slowly, he stepped closer. His voice trembled, soft but full of ghosts.
"I was kidnapped a hundred years ago… from my village. I was sixteen. They turned me into a Vassel. They kept binding me to different weapons, to different masters. My body stopped aging that day." He paused, eyes dark and distant. "I know I'm disgusting."
The sadness in his words was unbearable. He truly believed he didn't deserve to exist.
I exhaled softly, feeling my chest tighten. I didn't want to torture him further. He'd already stripped himself bare before me.
"I'm… not good at comforting people," I said hesitantly. "And I won't tell you to forget what happened—because you shouldn't. But don't let the past devour your present, or your future."
I lifted my hand toward the heavens. The forest canopy had thinned, revealing a vast night sky—deep, endless, and scattered with stars that shimmered like pieces of broken glass.
"Look, Sky," I said. "See that? The stars, the moon, the light. It's still beautiful, even after the darkest nights."
The wind stirred gently through the trees, brushing against us like a whisper.
"That's what your life is meant to become from this day forward," I continued softly. "Like the sky itself—wide, free, full of light after all the storms. That's what your name means. It's not just a word. It's a promise."
Sky looked up. His eyes reflected the moonlight, and for the first time, he seemed to truly see it—the beauty that had once been out of his reach. Slowly, a fragile smile touched his lips.
"I like it," he whispered. His lips kept moving after that, but I couldn't catch the words.
Through the bond between us, I felt something warm bloom within his chest—tiny sparks of light awakening inside a long-frozen heart. Feeling that warmth spread was… beautiful. Like watching the night sky heal itself.
Maybe I was the only one who would ever feel that.
Lucky me.
My thoughts blurred, and the world dimmed. Exhaustion pulled me down like a tide.
The last thing I felt was Sky's arms catching me—steady, warm—before I drifted into sleep beside the soft, crackling fire Riven had left for us. Above us, the sky stretched vast and bright, as if watching over him. Over us.