Chapter 46 - Big Sister Trouble!

The search for Hawks had stretched longer than either of you expected. The forest had given way to open plains, and now the terrain was foreign—a stark contrast to the woods you called home. You and Dabi had wandered into unfamiliar lands, and here, amidst the rustling grass and the faint hum of distant life, you found something unexpected.

The faint scent of ash and feathers was still present but fading fast. Instead, another aroma began to thread through the air—a scent both foreign and achingly familiar. It prickled at your memory, stirring something deep and primal. You lowered your head, sniffing the ground, the trace of something unmistakable lingering there.

Dabi's voice broke the quiet, sharp but low. "You find something?"

You didn't answer him directly, your muscles tensing as the scent grew stronger. It wasn't Hawks—it was something far older, far wilder. A sound rose in your throat, a warning growl laced with the guttural cadence of dragon language. "Stay back," you said, your voice a snarl that Dabi couldn't understand in words but grasped through instinct.

He halted, his mismatched eyes narrowing, but he obeyed, his stance wary. His hand hovered near his coat, ready to summon fire if necessary, though he didn't ignite it just yet. "Whatever this is," he muttered, "it better not be trouble."

Before you could respond, a piercing whistle cut through the air. It wasn't human, nor was it any sound the wind might carry. It was deliberate, echoing with a purpose that sent a chill down your spine. You bristled, your claws digging into the soil as the sky above seemed to shift.

Then she appeared.

A massive white figure descended from the heavens, her wings gleaming like molten silver under the faint light. She landed with the grace of a predator and the majesty of something ancient, her scales catching the faintest hint of moonlight. Her eyes, a brilliant amethyst that seemed to glow from within, fixed on you with an intensity that froze you in place.

"Baby sister," she said, her voice resonant and melodic, the words rolling off her tongue in the flowing cadence of dragon language. "Is it really you?"

For a moment, you could only stare. Memories long buried clawed their way to the surface—of wings and fire, of voices like hers speaking to you in a tongue you had nearly forgotten. The recognition hit you like a thunderclap, and your growl faded, replaced by a soft whine that carried equal parts disbelief and longing.

She took a step closer, her massive frame dwarfing yours, though her movements were slow, cautious. "I thought I'd lost you forever," she whispered, her gaze never leaving yours.

Behind you, Dabi watched in silence. Though he couldn't understand her words, the sheer gravity of her presence was enough to keep him rooted in place. For once, he had nothing to say.

And there you stood, caught between two worlds—the wild past you thought you'd left behind and the fragile present you were still trying to understand.

"Sylrith," you said, your voice thick with a mix of disbelief and wonder. The name escaped your lips like a sacred chant, one you had spoken only in dreams, never expecting it to resurface in this world. "It's me. What are you doing here?"

The soft curve of your sister's smile held the timelessness of the stars. She was unchanged, though the centuries seemed to have left their mark upon her in ways subtle and profound. Her long, silver hair cascaded down her back like a river of moonlight, its glow faint but undeniable. Her eyes, the color of the deepest ocean depths, held the eternal calm of one who had seen countless ages pass. A delicate, ethereal beauty enveloped her, like that of some ancient, powerful being that had walked the earth long before men learned to count their years.

"I was thinking of you," Sylrith replied, her voice smooth, almost musical, as though it were a melody composed by the winds themselves. "The hindworld is empty without you."

A deep breath escaped you, and you felt the earth beneath your feet shift slightly, a reminder of the difference in time between you and her. The hindworld — a place of unearthly vastness where time was but a passing whisper, a land of forgotten memories, where Sylrith, it seemed, now resided. And in that fleeting moment, you were painfully aware of how much had changed since you last stood beside her.

Beside you, Dabi, the human who had unknowingly wandered into this strange encounter, grunted in confusion. His gaze flicked from you to Sylrith, clearly unsettled by the uncanny beauty and unearthly presence she exuded.

"Umm, Y/N, who is this?" Dabi's voice broke the stillness, and his uncertainty was palpable. You could sense his unease, as he no doubt struggled to understand what he was seeing.

Sylrith's smile widened, and she turned towards Dabi with a look of amusement dancing in her eyes. There was a quiet dignity in her posture, as if she had been carved from the stone of the mountains themselves. "Ah, a human, eh?" Her voice softened in mock wonder. "How quaint."

She stepped closer, each movement graceful yet deliberate, as though the earth itself parted for her. Her pale fingers, delicate and long, extended in a gesture that would have seemed almost careless in another's hand but, coming from her, was imbued with a quiet authority.

"Hello there, human," she greeted him, her voice taking on a slightly more formal tone as she spoke the words. "I am Sylrith, Y/N's sister."

Her words were not harsh, but there was a subtle power in them, the kind that could bend the very fabric of reality if she so willed. As Sylrith spoke, her presence seemed to grow, consuming the space around her with an ancient, unspoken command. The world seemed to hush for a moment, as though holding its breath.

Dabi, visibly shaken, took a step back, his gaze flicking between you and the figure before him. He wasn't one for riddles or mysteries, and yet here he stood, caught in a moment far beyond his understanding.

But you, Y/N, felt something deep within your soul stir, a resonance that called to something ancient and buried. Sylrith's return had woven a thread through time itself, and the air seemed to hum with the possibility of what was yet to unfold.

Time, after all, was not a line to those like Sylrith. It was but a cycle, and she was its unyielding witness. You felt a familiar weight settle upon you, the weight of a bond that transcended mere blood, a connection forged in the fires of distant worlds and hidden realms.

You spoke again, your voice quieter now, as though the very earth might be listening. "Why now, Sylrith? What brings you here, after so long?"

Her smile faded into something more enigmatic, her eyes glinting with the knowledge of ages. "The hindworld is empty without you," she repeated, and for a moment, there was no air, no sound, only the feeling of something ancient, something eternal, stirring beneath the surface of reality itself.

It was then you understood. She had come not merely to visit, but to beckon you back — back to the place where time itself was woven, where your true destiny lay hidden, waiting to be rediscovered.

"What's she talking about?" Dabi asked again, his voice tight with confusion. His eyes darted between you and Sylrith, but the weight of his gaze always returned to you, seeking an answer to questions that had no simple response.

You sighed deeply, the sound a gentle release of the tension that had been building in your chest ever since Sylrith appeared. It was strange, how easily the old, ancient truth settled into your bones, but it was also unsettling, as though a part of you had never fully left the Hidden World, no matter how long you had spent among mortals.

"No, Dabi," you said softly, your voice carrying the weight of untold years, "it's not. The Hidden World is my real home, where all dragons come from. I've been visiting your world for a while."

The words felt strange as they passed your lips, and a pang of sorrow twisted in your chest. The world you had grown accustomed to, the one that had embraced you despite your differences, was not the place where you truly belonged. Your heart, deep within its quiet recesses, had always longed for the Hidden World, the ancient place of dragons and forgotten realms, where the skies were endless, and the air smelled of fire and freedom.

You turned away from Dabi, your gaze wandering toward the horizon, where the faintest hint of twilight was creeping along the edge of the world. The colors swirled in the sky, like the soft beginning of a storm, but your attention was drawn inward, to the sense of return that tugged at your very soul. The air around you thickened, becoming richer, more familiar.

It was then that you noticed the shift. The subtle ripple that always accompanied your transformation—your dragon form had returned. You flexed your wings slightly, feeling the familiar power surge through your veins. A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you let your tail flick playfully, the movement like a dragon's playful greeting after years of absence. It had been too long, perhaps. "And perhaps it's time for me to go home again," you murmured.

Dabi's voice cut through the moment, sharp with urgency. "You belong with me—err, us—here," he said, his grip tightening around your hand, though it was not enough to hold you in place. "What about those U.A. students and Shigaraki?"

The mention of Shigaraki soured the air instantly. His blue-haired visage was like a wound you could not forget, one that was neither fully healed nor forgotten. The dark memories of your encounters with him, the feeling of his power tugging at the edges of your mind, made your stomach churn. You glowered at the thought of him, the name leaving a bitter taste on your tongue.

Dabi, sensing your discomfort, followed your gaze, his eyes narrowing with understanding. He pulled back slightly, the edge of his smile faltering. "Sorry," he muttered, as though the very mention of Shigaraki had sullied the air between you. His voice softened, and when he spoke again, the rawness of his emotions bled through. "Not Shigaraki. Then what about Hawks and me? We love you."

His words were full of longing, a different kind of pain that mirrored your own in its quiet desperation. You had never doubted their feelings for you, nor the strange, unspoken bond that had grown between you and the two of them. Dabi's fiery presence, Hawks' gentle warmth — they both fit into a part of your life that was so unfamiliar, yet so real. But the Hidden World, where you were a dragon of old, called to you in ways words could not capture.

You looked at Dabi then, and his earnest eyes, filled with that raw, unguarded emotion, made your heart ache. This was a life you had come to love, a life you had woven for yourself in the mortal world. Yet, the pull of your true nature, of the Hidden World, was stronger than any tie you had to this place.

"I know you love me," you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. "And I... I love you both. But there is something inside me, something ancient. It cannot be denied. The Hidden World—it's calling me back."

Dabi's face tightened, but there was no anger in him, only a quiet acceptance that spoke of a deep bond forged in the fires of battles fought and emotions shared. He released your hand then, slowly, though he did not step away. His eyes, intense and unwavering, locked onto yours.

"We'll wait for you," he said, his voice firm, though there was a tremor of uncertainty. "And when you're ready, when the Hidden World has nothing left to offer... you'll come back. I know you will."

You reached out, cupping his cheek softly, your thumb brushing across his skin. "I'll always return," you whispered, meaning it with every piece of yourself. "But until then... I must find my way home."

And as you turned towards Sylrith, who stood with quiet patience, your heart felt a mix of both sorrow and resolve. The path ahead was uncertain, but you knew one thing for sure — no matter where you went, your bonds, though tested, would not break. They would remain, waiting for your return, whenever the time was right.