The darkened forest blurred past as the freshly-rested chimera carried Zorya and Seraphim forward, each stride smooth and relentless.

High above, an owl swooped low and settled on a branch, a faint glow in its eyes betraying Hades's watchful presence. The bird's soft hoot cut through the silence, and Hades's voice, low and resonant, spoke clearly in their minds.

"When you pass Corinth, continue west," he instructed.

"I have to stop somewhere first," Seraphim urged the chimera forward, making it go faster.

"No. Don't stop. There's no time," the god growled in protest, but the man ignored him.

"You heard him. Just stick to the route," Zorya glanced at Seraphim.

He merely grunted in reply, a glint of irritation in his gaze as he looked skyward at the owl. The chimera dived, almost as if it was trying to outrun the owl, before suddenly stopping.

The man's eyes narrowed as he raised his bident. The owl barely had time to react before the weapon struck, cutting through the air and silencing it instantly.

Hades's voice instantly faded, leaving only an uncomfortable silence in its place.

"Are you out of your mind?" Zorya exclaimed as she stared at him in disbelief. "You know Hades was watching us through that owl, don't you?"

"We don't need him watching every step," the man said.

"That was no excuse," she snapped, her fists clenching around the chimera's mane. "This is reckless. You're risking everything on a whim."

He didn't look at her, his eyes trained on the barely visible trail ahead.

"Stay behind if you want, but I'm going."

Frustrated but bound to follow, Zorya had no choice but to hold her tongue as Seraphim directed the chimera off the original path and toward a shadowed gorge. They rode in tense silence, Zorya fuming while Seraphim kept his focus steady, ignoring her occasional glares.

She didn't know why he'd veered off course, but his tense posture and clenched fists told her it was deliberate, a goal he set for himself and would not rest until he achieved it.

They emerged onto a ridge overlooking the gorge, the harsh lines of the landscape barely softened by the glow of a flickering campfire below. The flickering flames cast eerie shadows over a towering figure sitting beside it, silhouetted and still.

Zorya tensed, immediately wary, but before she could ask Seraphim anything, the giant's voice rumbled toward them like a distant storm.

"Do you seek passage across the gorge?" the giant asked, his voice low and unbothered as he continued to roast a corpse over the fire.

"I do," Seraphim replied without hesitation.

Zorya's head whipped toward him, incredulous. She had no idea why he wanted to cross here or what lay on the other side, but her instincts told her this encounter was dangerous.

She opened her mouth to say something, to warn him, but Seraphim sent her a glare that told her to stay silent. She reluctantly complied.

"Then you must answer my riddle. But if you answer incorrectly, you'll find yourself atop my spit," the Tree Bender stood up, casting a dark shadow over them as he faced them. "Are you sure you still want to cross?"

"So, if I answer correctly, do you promise to let me cross?" the man demanded and the giant raised a brow. "You wouldn't go back on your word, like some kind of flat-footed heel? Because only ugly, forked-tongued cowards break their oaths. And you would never do that, like you did with a young priestess that came this way."

With each word, Seraphim's voice grew sharper, colder, more filled with hatred. Zorya's breath hitched as realization struck her—this wasn't just a random encounter to Seraphim. When he mentioned the priestess, a memory surfaced, clear as a star's reflection in a still pond.

She suddenly remembered the young, scared priestess she tried to get across Styx, after finding her soul wandering around the forest, but failed. The same priestess she led to Seraphim, when he was dying. The same priestess who he fell in love with.

Beside her, she felt Seraphim's anger harden like ice, and her own muscles tensed, hand instinctively drifting to her dagger's hilt. She chanced a glance at the man, but his gaze was locked on the giant, hatred radiating from him in waves.

The giant, catching onto Seraphim's fury, let out a low, dark chuckle, his voice thick with a mocking satisfaction.

"I remember her," he sneered. "She had a thing for strays. Shame her answer wasn't enough to save her, or the one she pleaded for."

Rage stirred deep within Seraphim. His grip on the bident tightened as he barely held himself back, his jaw clenched so hard it looked like he might crack his own teeth.

Zorya's fingers twitched, ready to draw her blade, but she still hesitated.

"She was too smart for your stupid game, but you still killed her," the man growled, his voice breaking slightly. "Why?"

The giant's dismissive shrug answered him with chilling indifference.

"What's it to you?"

"That priestess was meant to be my bride. It was my fault she crossed paths with you. My fault she now suffers in the Underworld. Why did you kill her?"

"It's my nature."

The words shattered whatever was left of Seraphim's restraint. He roared, and the air around him darkened as he abandoned his human guise, shifting into his demon form in a surge of energy. His eyes burned with pain and hatred as he lunged at the giant, who met him head-on, strength against strength.

Zorya readied herself, her hand on her dagger, prepared to jump in. But Seraphim fought with a relentless ferocity, weaving through Tree Bender's blows and countering with swift, punishing strikes. She watched, her pulse racing, though she could tell he wouldn't need her assistance this time.

Seraphim was relentless, dodging the massive blows with deadly grace, retaliating with swift strikes. He moved with a speed Zorya hadn't anticipated.

Even when the giant tore a tree from the ground and hit Seraphim with bone-crushing force, the demon barely faltered. The tree smashed against his side, knocking him back, but he recovered almost instantly, bident flashing as he launched it into the giant's knee with a sickening crunch.

The Tree Bender let out a roar of pain, collapsing to his knees. Seraphim used this moment to jump onto his back.

"She was innocent!" he snarled, calling his bident into his hand. "Brave! Unselfish! And you tore her apart!"

He stabbed the Tree Bender into the side of his head, before he leapt back, landing in a crouch, and the giant's body swayed. Seraphim raised his bident one last time, his voice a low, unyielding curse.

"I curse you and your nature!" the demon growled. "Give my best to the judges."

With that, he delivered a final, powerful shove that sent the giant hurtling backward over the cliff's edge. The giant's roar echoed through the gorge, growing faint until there was only silence.

Breathing heavily, Seraphim took a step back, clutching his side where the Tree Bender had landed a brutal blow. Zorya could see the dark stain of blood seeping through his fingers, but he remained rigid, not willing to show any sign of weakness.

"You're bleeding," Zorya observed.

She stepped toward him, reaching out her hand, but Seraphim pulled away slightly, almost out of habit.

"It's nothing," he muttered, though the grimace on his face betrayed him.

Still, the nymph raised her hands in mock surrender, letting him figure it out on his own.

Spotting a cloth hanging from a nearby rope, Seraphim pulled it down, his hand trembling slightly as he began wrapping it around the wound. His movements were stiff, the pain intensifying with each tug of the cloth, and he fumbled with the makeshift bandage, his fingers shaking.

Zorya watched, crossing her arms and quirking an eyebrow.

"You're only going to make it worse," she murmured, stepping forward and reaching for the cloth.

"I don't need your help," Seraphim tensed and shot her a hard look and she raised a brow at him, unimpressed.

"You're barely tying it at all. Here," she said, taking over despite his resistance. "If we're going to keep up your relentless pace, you're going to need that bandaged properly."

She worked quickly, keeping her movements precise and deliberate, her face close to his for the briefest moment as she focused on securing the bandage.

He shifted uncomfortably, casting a sceptical glance down at her hands as she worked, but he let her continue, his silence a grudging acceptance.

Suddenly, Zorya's hands paused over the wound, the faint glow of starlight gathering on her palms.

"I can heal this," she offered quietly, a subtle concern in her voice. "It won't take much. Just a little starlight would close it up."

He hesitated, eyeing her warily, his jaw tightening.

"I'm fine."

She raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his tone.

"Sure, because you're doing a spectacular job on your own," she replied, glancing up at him. "I'm just saying, it would be easier to heal it, than you dragging that wound around."

He scoffed, stiffening under her touch.

"I know your type—help doesn't come for free. I don't plan on owing you anything."

Zorya paused, her expression softening but tinged with understanding as she continued her work.

"Suit yourself," she murmured, finishing the knot a little tighter than necessary. "But that's not always how things work."

Seraphim stayed silent, his expression guarded as she stepped back. As he adjusted the bandage, his gaze drifted over to the branch where he saw a cloth hanging, and for a moment, his hardened eyes softened, lost in a flicker of memory.

The cloth reminded him of Gorgo—she used very similar white fabric when she'd tended to his wounds before, back when she'd spoken so softly, encouraging him to keep his strength despite everything he'd endured.

He blinked, snapping himself out of it as he clenched his jaw. Making the decision quickly, he walked up to the tree and snatched the fabric off of it, securing it around his wrist instead.

Meanwhile, Zorya glanced at the still burning campfire and with a flick of her wrist, she covered it with shadows, quelling the flame until it died out.

"Ready?" the nymph asked turning towards her companion again.

Without a word, he climbed onto the chimera, his reluctance fading just enough to gesture for her to join him. She swung up behind him, holding the creature's thick mane as they settled in place.

Seraphim gave a sharp nudge to the beast's side, urging it forward as it leapt back into the air.

The night wind swept around them as they moved deeper into the shadows of the forest, and though the tension remained, there was a faint shift—a silent understanding as they rode on, leaving the bloodied cliffs and the Tree Bender's twisted campfire far behind.Dół formularza

*****

As the chimera swept through the skies, its great wings slicing the night, Zorya settled behind Seraphim, leaning slightly to avoid the wind slamming into her face.

The air was filled with the creature's rhythmic wingbeats and the subtle creak of Seraphim's grip on the chimera's mane, which had become increasingly tense.

Neither had spoken since their encounter with the Tree Bender. The silence between them was thick, almost tangible, as if each of them were pushing away from a conversation they had no desire to start.

Zorya's thoughts kept circling back to the situation with the Tree Bender. A young priestess. Seraphim hadn't given any details, but he didn't have to. Zorya remembered her.

After a long stretch, Zorya finally broke the silence.

"You've barely blinked since we left. What, still thinking about the giant?"

Seraphim grunted, barely glancing back. "What difference does it make to you?" His tone was edged, defensive.

"None. Just trying to make sure you're not too distracted to keep us in the air."

"You think I'm distracted?" he snapped, his voice rough. "Trust me, I'm more than focused."

"Focused?" She scoffed. "So focused you almost fell off a cliff back there?"

Seraphim's grip on the chimera tightened, his knuckles white. He said nothing, but she could feel his irritation radiating off him in waves. She smirked to herself, then leaned back slightly.

"Look, I get it. Killing the Tree Bender—some unfinished business, I'm guessing? It must feel good, right? I mean, you practically dragged me out here on your little detour."

"Dragged?" He turned just enough to glare at her. "If you were really so opposed, why'd you even come?"

She shrugged, her tone casual. "Hades ordered me to come along, remember? It's not like I had much of a choice."

The wind whipped between them, filling the space with a sudden chill. Zorya crossed her arms, feeling the silence settle over them again. She was starting to wonder if this mission would be nothing more than her watching him sulk until they returned to the Underworld.

After a moment, she sighed.

"You're impossible, you know that?" she complained.

"Then why stay?" he raised an eyebrow, glancing back just enough for her to catch the challenge in his eyes.

"Because you're bound to do something reckless, and when you do, I'd rather not have to go back and explain to Hades why you didn't make it."

Seraphim let out a bitter laugh, looking away from her again.

"Reckless? You think I don't know how to handle myself?"

"You nearly got yourself killed back there—whether you want to admit it or not," she deadpanned, her hand itching to touch his side to prove her point, but resisted. "There's a difference between being brave and being... whatever you were just now."

He didn't respond, and the nymph could sense he was weighing her words. Instead of pressing further, she decided to try a different approach.

"Who was she?" she asked quietly, feeling him tense under her question. "The woman you mentioned. She obviously meant something to you, whoever she was."

She asked, despite the fact that she knew exactly who this woman was. She wanted to see if he would give her anything to work with.

After all, if they were going to spend unknown amount of time together, they might as well get to know each other. And to do that, she needed to test the waters, how much she could allow herself.

Seraphim's jaw tightened, but he stayed silent for a long moment, his gaze focused on the distant horizon as the chimera's wings beat steadily beneath them.

"She was... it doesn't matter anymore," his voice was low, almost inaudible, but she still caught the bitterness in it.

Zorya bit back a retort, feeling his reluctance hang in the air. His silence spoke louder than any answer he could give, and she realised pushing him might only make him retreat further.

They continued in tense silence until a light drizzle began to fall. The raindrops were cold, stinging as they hit her skin, and the chimera let out a low growl, its wings faltering slightly in the gusts of wind that accompanied the rain. Zorya instinctively tightened her hold on Seraphim's shoulders, steadying herself.

"Great. Rain. Just what we needed," she muttered sarcastically.

"Scared?" Seraphim glanced back at her, eyes narrowed.

"Not even a little," she scoffed. "Just hoping you know how to keep this thing from crashing."

"Trust me," he replied, smirking slightly. "I've done this before."

They continued, their path through the sky becoming more challenging as the rain grew heavier. Zorya shifted her position, crossing her arms tighter, the cold of the rain seeping into her bones.

Seraphim's shoulders tensed under her grip, and she could tell he'd felt her adjustment. He turned his head slightly, just enough to grumble over his shoulder.

"Cold?" he asked, but surprisingly, his tone lacked its usual bite in it.

She raised an eyebrow, but kept her tone flat.

"I'm fine. I can handle it," she said, despite the shivers that ran though her every once in a while.

"Right," he huffed.

He looked forward again, saying nothing more. But a few moments later, Zorya felt his back shift as he tugged his cloak loose. He shrugged it off and awkwardly tossed it over one shoulder towards her.

"Here."

She stared at the cloak hanging over his arm, momentarily taken aback by the simple gesture.

"You don't need to—"

"Just take it," his voice was gruff, and his eyes stayed locked on the distant horizon. "It's not like it's doing much for me anyway."

Hesitantly, Zorya took the cloak, wrapping it around her shoulders. The fabric was worn but warm, and despite herself, she felt a small flicker of gratitude.

She settled back, letting the cloak shield her from the cold, and for a moment, she considered saying thank you. But something stopped her. He wasn't looking for her gratitude, this was just... him being him.

"Maybe we should find somewhere to land until the storm passes," she suggested, trying to keep her tone light, though she could feel her heartbeat racing.

"We're almost there," Seraphim scoffed, his voice dripping with stubbornness.

"Where is 'there', exactly? Another detour?" when Zorya got no answer, she rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. "Typical."

But before she could say more, a particularly strong gust caught them off guard, and the chimera lurched sideways, losing altitude rapidly. Zorya let out a startled yelp, gripping onto Seraphim tightly as they plummeted several feet.

The demon let out a strained grunt as he tried to regain control. The chimera fought against the wind, its powerful wings beating frantically, but it was clear they were losing the battle.

Finally, Seraphim growled in frustration and leaned the creature into a dive, steering them down toward a small clearing below. Zorya's heart pounded as the ground rushed up to meet them, and she braced herself for impact.

The landing was rough. The chimera hit the ground with a heavy thud, its claws digging into the earth to slow its momentum. They slid several feet before finally coming to a stop, the rain pouring down around them as the beast let out a low, exhausted growl.

Zorya released her grip on Seraphim's shoulders, slowly. She slid off the chimera, staggering slightly as her feet touched the ground, and let out a shaky breath.

"Nice landing," she muttered sarcastically, brushing mud off her clothes.

Seraphim dismounted, shooting her a glare.

"If you'd stayed out of it, we wouldn't have needed to land at all."

"Stayed out of it?" she shot him an incredulous look. "The storm's not my fault. I was the one who suggested landing before we got thrown out of the sky."

He shrugged, running a hand through his damp hair.

"We'd have made it."

"Unbelievable. You really don't like taking advice, do you?" Zorya rolled her eyes, exasperated.

Seraphim didn't answer, instead turning his attention to the chimera, which was pawing the ground, agitated. He placed a hand on its flank, murmuring something under his breath to calm it, his voice too low for her to hear.

Zorya crossed her arms, watching him with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. She'd seen stubborn men before, but he was something else entirely.

Seraphim finally turned back to her, his gaze meeting hers for a split second before he looked away.

"Give that back," he muttered, holding his hand out for his cloak.

"Maybe I want to keep it," she said, raising an eyebrow, though the jest felt strangely hollow.

She knew it was a minor gesture, barely worth mentioning, but something about the exchange felt like a shift, no matter how small.

His eyes flashed, but he said nothing, his jaw set. He seemed ready to argue, but instead, he just turned away, looking out into the rain-soaked forest.

Zorya watched him for a moment, debating whether to push further. She didn't understand why he was so determined to keep her at a distance. It wasn't as if she was particularly invested in his problems, but this whole mission would go a lot smoother if he'd just stop treating her like an enemy.

She sighed, then took a step closer to him. After a long stretch of quiet, she finally broke the silence again.

"You're stubborn, you know that?"

He gave her a sideways glance.

"So I've been told."

"I don't get you," she said quietly, staring at him across the small space. "You keep pushing everyone away like they're going to... what, betray you?"

"Maybe they would," his voice was a growl, and he looked away, his jaw clenched. "You don't know what it's like."

"Don't I?" Her words were soft, but they seemed to catch him off guard.

He didn't answer, but his gaze softened, just a little. They stood in silence for a long moment, the rain pattering around them as the chimera rested nearby, watching them with a curious gaze.

Finally, Zorya sighed.

"Fine. Keep pushing people away," she said. "But sooner or later, you'll have no one left to push."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and moved towards the chimera, her shoulders tense as she prepared to remount.

After a moment, Seraphim followed, his expression thoughtful, though he said nothing. He climbed onto the creature, the familiar warmth of its mane grounding him. Zorya settled behind him, the space between them still charged with unspoken words.

The chimera shifted beneath them, as if the unspoken tension between the two made it restless.

Rain continued to pour, drenching them both, but Seraphim felt the heat of Zorya's presence close to him—a mix of irritation and something else he couldn't quite define.

"Let's move," he commanded, his voice gruff as he urged the chimera forward, its wings flaring wide.

The nymph didn't say anything as she held tightly to his shoulders, but this time there was no playful banter between them, just the sound of the storm and the heavy beat of the chimera's wings.

As they rose into the sky, the silence between them felt different somehow, less charged. The hostility that had lingered between them was still there, but it was tempered now, softened by the shared experience of the storm and the argument that had forced both of them to confront the tension between them.

For the first time, Zorya felt that maybe—just maybe—she was starting to understand him, even if he refused to let her in. And as they soared above the rain-soaked forest, she found herself wondering if there might be more to Seraphim than the angry, brooding figure he projected.

And perhaps, she thought with a small, reluctant smile, this journey would be more interesting than she'd anticipated.