Three Months

Cassie's brows knitted as she observed the tension rising between Klaus and Sunny. It wasn't easy to watch two people you cared about poised on the brink of conflict. Especially when one of them… well, what was Klaus to her, really?

The answer hovered just beyond the reach of her thoughts, evasive and unclear. Was he her lover? Her partner? Something stranger, deeper? Their relationship was riddled with arguments, sharp words, endless disagreements. And yet, at the end of each day, Klaus had always been there. He had stood beside her, shielded her, even bled for her. And in turn, she had never once stopped believing in him—no matter how many lines he crossed, no matter how monstrous his sins.

She knew what Klaus was. He wasn't a good man. In fact, he was likely the worst among those gathered here—perhaps even surpassing Mordret, depending on how one measured cruelty and chaos. But still, he was hers. That reality made no sense, defied logic… but some things were beyond the grasp of reason. Was it responsibility she felt? Affection? Love? It was something raw and weathered, something that had withstood storm after storm. It was real.

It felt like kinship, almost. The kind that endured through all wounds and betrayals. The kind of love that didn't flinch in the face of darkness.

If that wasn't love, then what was?

Klaus felt like family. And though they had only been together for a year, it felt as though they had shared decades—lifetimes. Despite everything, she had been happy with him. He was the first person who had ever told her she deserved joy, who looked at her like she wasn't broken beyond repair.

Her gaze drifted to Sunny. Their relationship had always been... complicated. But he was her friend, and the animosity flaring between the two men gnawed at her. She stood at a crossroads between fire and shadow, heart torn and unsure.

And deep beneath that uncertainty, something else stirred: dread.

She knew Klaus didn't need them. If he wished, he could challenge this Nightmare alone. He had the knowledge, the resources, the ruthless will to do what none of them could. That frightened her more than anything else. Because lately… he had become unshackled. Wild. Untamed. Hope's corruption was bleeding into him faster than any of them, and it showed in his eyes.

Her voice broke the silence, calm but weighted with urgency.

"We should begin by sharing everything we've learned about this Nightmare. The more knowledge we have, the better the decisions we'll make."

Klaus chuckled softly, raising his bourbon-laced teacup. Then he paused, his brow twitching. Was he drinking too much again? A flicker of irritation passed through him. He was running on fumes—barely clinging to consciousness. Hemera's radiant flames kept his body from collapsing, while Miseria purged the trauma clawing at his psyche from that cursed temple of pain. And still, he was fraying. His body was battered, his mind a fractured mirror. But he couldn't afford rest. Not yet.

He muttered lazily, "Well, I already know how your journey went, Cas. And I've got a fair idea of what happened to Kai. Effie's story? I can guess. As for Sunny… well, Noctis told me plenty, so I don't exactly need to hear it again."

Cassie frowned, concern creasing her face. But she nodded. There was no changing Klaus's mind once it was set.

"All the same," she said gently, "the others don't know the full picture. It's best if we all talk openly."

Sunny stirred, lifting his cup and taking a slow sip. His eyes swept across the room, landing briefly on each of his companions before tightening around the emerald amulet clenched in his hand.

"In that case," he muttered, "I'll begin."

He spoke with deliberate clarity, every word laced with tension and bitterness. He told them everything: how he had been cast into the Nightmare in the form of a Shadow Demon, how he was captured and thrown into Solvane's coliseum. The months he spent surviving bloodsport. The moment he tricked an ascended warrior into decapitating him, using his own demise to orchestrate an escape.

He recounted the desperate flight through the underground, the bond he'd formed with Elyas—the healer who had mended his wounds and whom he'd vowed to protect in return. And then... the horror. Solvane's return. Elyas's death. His heart torn from his chest.

Only the cruel mercy of his demonic form having two hearts had allowed him to survive.

He pressed on. He told of meeting Noctis, of the pact they made. Of facing the Shadow Steed, a monstrous stallion born of nightmares and dreams. The battles within layers of dreams that nearly drove him insane. The deaths. The forgotten memories. The ultimate triumph.

He spoke of killing the beast, of reuniting with Kai. Of meeting Klaus.

When Sunny finally finished recounting his harrowing tale, a heavy silence settled over the group like a woolen shroud. Each of them sat quietly, absorbing the weight of his words, lost in thought. Well… everyone except Effie.

The silence was soon shattered by the unmistakable sound of enthusiastic chewing. Effie, legs swinging idly under the table, swallowed a generous mouthful of meat pie and blinked in confusion as the others turned to stare at her.

"What?" she mumbled, wiping the grease from her lips with the back of her sleeve. "I'm a growing girl, you know! Gotta eat if I wanna grow up big and scary."

Without waiting for a reply, she nonchalantly wiped her oily fingers on the corner of the tablecloth and shrugged, eyes darting sideways.

"Well, anyway… I guess I'll go next."

The usual boldness in her voice had dulled, replaced with something softer—more hesitant. She lingered for a heartbeat too long, then exhaled and began to speak, her words quieter than usual.

She told them how she had awakened in the body of a frail orphan girl, abducted and claimed by the Red Sect. Once, those fanatics had been mentors—harsh, perhaps, but still human. Yet now, twisted by Hope's vile corruption, they had become cruel, perverse reflections of what they once were. Their teachings had soured, discipline turning into punishment, guidance into abuse.

"I didn't understand it at first," she admitted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "Why they were so… broken. But now, I get it. Hope got to them. Warped their desires, fed on them like a parasite."

She spoke of her escape—how she had managed to reach Iron Hand Island, only to be captured and punished. But the cruelty hadn't fallen upon her alone. The sect, in their twisted logic, had inflicted suffering on the other disciples instead… as retribution for her disobedience.

Nothing spectacular, she said. No great battles or revelations. Just pain. Endless, relentless pain. Training in essence manipulation, in the art of violence and survival. They taught her how to resist fear, how to endure agony, how to forge her will into an unbreakable blade. They were turning her into a weapon—a flawless, merciless instrument of war.

And yet, there had been something disturbingly human about it all. Amidst the torment, Effie found herself speaking of Hilde—her teacher, her tormentor, and in some strange way… her mother.

"She… she really cared about me," Effie said quietly, eyes downcast. "Like I was hers. Even when she broke me down, she still—" She faltered, then shook her head.

Her tone shifted again—cooler now, more detached, as though she had closed a door behind her.

"Anyway. In the end, I think they pushed the others harder because of me. My presence… reignited their madness. Almost everyone died, i was even planning to escape..."

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around her fork.

"I didn't think I'd make it out alive. But before I had to find out, these three showed up and turned the whole sect into slaughterhouse."

She offered Sunny, Kai, and Klaus a small nod—grateful, but guarded.

"Cheers. Thanks, by the way."

And with that, she returned to her pie, stuffing another piece into her mouth and making it clear she had no more to say.

Everyone fell silent until Cassie leaned over and placed a gentle hand on Effie's small shoulder.

"You did well, Effie," she said softly. "You survived."

Effie lowered her gaze and sighed. "Yeah… but this time, I didn't want to just survive. I wanted to save someone, too. And I failed. Well, Klaus saved those children..." She gave a bitter chuckle. "Whatever. I'm too old to be this sentimental anyway. Or maybe Hope's already twisted my head around. It is just a Nightmare, right?"

The sight of a child dismissing her grief like a tired old soldier would've been funny, if it hadn't been so profoundly sad.

Then Kai leaned back and sighed. "I guess it's my turn. Though there's not much to tell." He looked down at his hands. "I only fought a dragon. And lost."

Kai leaned back slightly, his expression distant, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his solemn face. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of memory—measured and calm, yet touched by a quiet sorrow.

"I was sent into the body of a young centurion," he began, "in the heart of Ivory City."

He told them of the shining marble streets, the jubilant people, and the arena where blood was spilled not for cruelty, but for glory. How he fought against savage warmongers and emerged victorious, not just as a warrior, but as a leader. He had led his soldiers—his brothers in arms—to triumph after triumph beneath the watchful gaze of the Sun Lord and the city's guardian, the great dragon Sevirax.

Ivory City had seemed like a paradise. Its people were bright and cheerful, always safe, always content. It had seemed so perfect. So simple.

"I was a fool," he admitted quietly. "I thought that kind of peace was real."

But beneath the surface, Hope's corruption festered. The people had not been protected by faith, but bound by fear. Their safety came at a terrible cost: each month, the seven brightest and most brilliant youths were chosen in celebration and song… and fed to the dragon.

Kai's voice grew heavier as he described how he and six of his finest soldiers were honored, adorned, and sent with reverence to the dragon's altar. The people cheered, wept with joy, praised the Sun Lord for their blessing. They believed it a holy rite. A sacred tradition. But when Kai stood before the great beast himself—Sevirax—he was told the truth.

"There is no ritual," Kai said. "No covenant. No pact forged in blood. They made that part up."

The sacrifices were never demanded by the dragon. The people had invented the ritual themselves—to bind him. To anchor their god to their city with grief and obligation. They believed if they offered what was most precious, the dragon would never abandon them.

Kai begged for his soldiers' lives. He pleaded, wept, even knelt. His men were too far gone, too tainted by Hope's madness to protest their fate. But Sevirax refused.

"Dragon said that he did not required unwilling offerings, that i was free to go."

But Kai would not leave them.

And so, in desperation and fury, he attacked.

"How could I hope to stop him?" Kai said softly, eyes on the fire. "I wasn't a dragon. I was just a man."

Sevirax struck him down with a single sweep of his tail, shattering his ribs and leaving him broken on the stone. Paralyzed and helpless, Kai was forced to watch as the dragon turned his head, opened his massive maw—and incinerated his soldiers in a single, blinding torrent of fire.

"I screamed," he whispered. "I cursed him. I swore I'd make the world see. I told him I'd reveal the truth. That I'd tear away the veil. And the dragon… he looked at me, not with hatred, but with exhaustion. And he said, 'You will see.'"

Then the Ivory Dragon was gone, and Kai was left alone on the desolate island, shattered and soaked in ash.

He spoke of the night he spent there—how pain clouded his thoughts and time unraveled into agony. Then, as the sun rose, the people came.

At first, they were silent. Then shocked. Then afraid.

"They saw that I had survived… and instead of joy, they felt dread. They feared what my survival meant."

So they built a pyre. They tied him to a stake.

And they burned him.

He tried to explain, to reason, to shout the truth through the smoke. But it didn't matter. Their fear deafened them, and their hate lit the flame. The dragon had spoken true. Kai had been too blind to understand.

But fate was not yet done with him.

Just as the fire was about to consume him fully, light fell from the sky—bright as a star and hot as divine wrath. Hemera, Klaus's phoenix, descended in a storm of radiant fire. She seared two Ascended warriors into oblivion and healed Kai's broken body. The children who had tried to help him—beaten by zealots for their innocence—were saved by her touch. The rest, the mad and corrupted, were reduced to ash in the cleansing fire of her wings.

In the end, she lifted Kai in her talons and carried him away, to the sanctuary of Noctis… where he met Sunny and Klaus once more.

When his tale came to an end, Kai let the silence linger for a moment, then offered a faint, wistful smile. He raised his eyes to meet theirs, calm but resolute.

"You guys… I'll follow you wherever this road leads. Whatever we decide to do, I'm with you. But if there's one thing I truly want…"

He paused.

"If Noctis intends to slay Lord Sevirax and end the dragon's reign—I would be honored to lend my sword."

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Okay, i know this is boring. But it felt wrong to remove their stories. Some things changed but most of them remained same. Anyway, thanks for support and enjoying my story.

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