IceMoon and Deathbringer burst from the cave, their wings slicing through the sulfurous air as they fled the suffocating heat of the queen's molten prison. The acrid scent of burning rock clung to their scales, mixing with the sweat of tension still thick in the air. Lava veins pulsed hungrily below, casting eerie crimson streaks across the cavern walls as if trying to swallow them whole.

Within moments, they shot into the inky blackness of the storm-laden skies, where a cold wind howled through the night like the whisper of ghosts. Lightning crackled far in the distance, illuminating the boiling storm clouds that roiled like a living beast above the cursed island.

"Well," Deathbringer panted, angling his wings into a weaker wind current to steady himself, "that didn't go as planned." His voice, though calm, carried the sharp edge of barely concealed unease.

IceMoon snarled under her breath, her frigid scales bristling as she ducked low, aiming for the tunnel's mouth to slip away unseen—only to freeze mid-movement.

A battalion of NightWing guards loomed ahead, their dark figures cutting through the shadows like living obsidian statues. Spears gleamed in their talons, their tips kissed with venom, a silent promise of death.

IceMoon's pupils shrank to slits. A hiss ripped from her throat as she shot upward, wings snapping open in a desperate arc. "Blasted guards," she growled, baring her fangs as her lungs filled with something colder than the void itself.

A thousand winters roared to life in her chest, a storm of frost-laden fury surging up her throat and spilling into the air in a deafening exhale.

The guards barely had time to react.

In an instant, their bodies stiffened, their limbs locked in place. Ice rimed over their scales, crawling like hungry vines, consuming flesh and bone in a merciless embrace. The metallic glint of their spears dulled beneath layers of crystalline frost. Their eyes, once sharp with purpose, turned glassy and hollow.

Seconds later, they stood motionless—twisted statues of ice, their expressions frozen in eternal shock.

"Woah!" Deathbringer lurched sideways, narrowly dodging a guard's wild swipe. The sharpened obsidian claws whistled past his snout, missing by a breath. He dropped low, wings scraping against the rough tunnel walls, feeling the sting of stone against his scales as he twisted his body to avoid another strike.

Meanwhile, IceMoon surged ahead, her frost-kissed form slicing through the shadows without so much as a backward glance.

"A little warning next time?!" Deathbringer barked, scrambling after her, his talons skidding against the frozen ground. The icy mist from her breath still lingered in the air, curling around the fallen guards like ghostly tendrils.

IceMoon shot him a glare over her shoulder, her sapphire eyes burning like chips of arctic fire. Her voice was sharp enough to cut through steel. "That idiot just trapped us here. I don't warn enemies—I end them."

Without hesitation, she parted her jaws once more, the air around her growing heavy with the biting chill of impending death. A blizzard's wrath roared from her lungs, an avalanche of glacial breath surging forth in an unrelenting torrent.

The remaining guards barely had time to react before the wave of frost struck them, creeping over their limbs with eerie precision. Cracks splintered through their scales as ice overtook them, twisting their shocked expressions into frozen masks of horror.

With a final snap, the tunnel fell silent, save for the faint crackle of frost sealing its victims in a shimmering, unbreakable tomb.

hey emerged into the steaming heart of the rainforest, the thick, humid air clashing against IceMoon's frost-laced scales like fire meeting ice. Shafts of golden sunlight sliced through the dense canopy above, illuminating the tangled sprawl of vines and colossal roots beneath their talons. The rich scent of damp earth and blooming orchids clung to every breath.

IceMoon landed heavily beside a narrow river, its crystal-clear waters rippling as her claws trailed absently through the current. The cool touch sent a shiver up her spine, as if she could wash away the lingering heat of battle—the blood, the ice, the scent of charred rock and molten fury.

Deathbringer collapsed beside her with an exhausted sigh, his wings drooping against the moss-crusted stones. His obsidian scales, usually sleek and polished, were marred with streaks of dust and tiny cuts from their escape. For a moment, neither spoke. Their feathers brushed—just barely, a fleeting, unconscious contact—before Deathbringer shifted, breaking the silence.

"I... apologize, okay?" His voice was quieter than usual, lacking its usual effortless charm. He kept his gaze locked on the river's swirling depths, watching the current sweep away stray leaves. "I thought Battlewinner would listen. That she'd—"

IceMoon cut him off with a sharp exhale, steam curling from her nostrils as the last remnants of frost clung stubbornly to her scales.

"She didn't," she said simply. Her voice was cool, steady, final. "We survived. That's all that matters."

The jungle whispered around them—chittering insects, distant bird cries, the soft rustle of unseen creatures weaving through the undergrowth. The world had moved on, oblivious to the battle they had left behind.

Deathbringer exhaled slowly, his shoulders rising and falling like the distant swell of the ocean. His usually sharp eyes were softer now, filled with something unreadable. He tilted his head, watching her closely. "Are you mad at me?"

IceMoon snorted, her breath misting the air, icy particles swirling like shattered diamonds in the golden shafts of sunlight. "Yes, of course I am," she said, her voice edged with lingering frustration. "But it's not your fault."

With a weary sigh, she rolled onto her back, letting the weight of the world press into her wings. One dipped lazily into the river, sending ripples across its glassy surface, warping the reflection of the sky above. The cool water soothed the lingering heat of battle, but it couldn't quiet the storm brewing inside her.

"I'm mad that I let a NightWing fool me," she admitted, her tone sharp with self-reproach. "That I waltzed straight into your home without a second thought. I could've been captured... or worse." She turned her head, staring at the dark canopy above, where slivers of sunlight filtered through the leaves like broken glass. "The prophecy needs me, and I nearly threw it all away."

A breeze whispered through the rainforest, rustling the vines overhead. Distantly, the call of a howler monkey echoed through the dense foliage, but IceMoon barely heard it. Her mind still lingered in the depths of the Night Kingdom, trapped beneath Battlewinner's molten glare, beneath the weight of what could have been.

The jungle hummed with the quiet chorus of dusk as Deathbringer reached out, his talon closing around IceMoon's with careful hesitation. His grip was firm yet unassuming, as if anchoring himself in the moment before it could slip away. "I'm sorry, okay?" he murmured, his voice rough with the weight of disappointment. "I... I truly thought there was hope left for my tribe. But now—"

He pulled back, the tremor in his claws betraying what his expression wouldn't. A warrior's mask could only hide so much.

IceMoon studied him, her frost-hardened gaze thawing at the edges. His pain was raw, threaded with an ache she understood all too well. Slowly, she reached forward, tracing a single claw along his shoulder. The touch was featherlight—so fleeting it could have been imagined.

"Hey," she whispered.

Deathbringer lifted his eyes, meeting hers—glacial blue, endless as the northern icefields, yet brimming with something warmer, something dangerous. Fire beneath frost.

"There might still be hope," she murmured, tilting her head. "You're here, aren't you?"

A breath of silence stretched between them before Deathbringer let out a dry chuckle, the sound low and rasping. He nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips despite everything. "I guess I am."

With a quick shake, he spread his wings, the fading light of dusk catching on his midnight scales. A faint shimmer of blue gleamed along the edges, as if the stars themselves had kissed him in passing.

"C'mon," he said, stretching lazily. "Let's grab some grub. I'm starving."

IceMoon snorted but rose alongside him, her movements fluid as moonlit water. Together, they took to the sky, slicing through the thick, humid air with practiced ease.

Below, nestled in the tangled shadows of the undergrowth, a pair of emerald-green eyes tracked their ascent. The gaze was sharp, unblinking, glinting with a hunger more potent than mere malice.

The hunt had begun.