The portal sealed with a sigh of stone and shadow. The storm above had passed, now distant like faded thunder in the memory.
Damian and Nyra stood in front of an ancient corridor, vaulted stone walls choked with moss and the weight of time, lit only by the faint flicker of Damian's presence. The last trace of blue light drained from his eyes.
His breath was heavier now. Slower and more Human.
Damian leaned back against the cold wall, eyes closed, as if gravity itself pressed harder on him in this fragile form.
He has returned to his human form. With warm blood flowing through his veins, and heartbeats so loud in his chest
Nyra watched from a distance, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. But when she spoke, her voice was sharp as rain striking glass.
"You left her there."
Damian opened his eyes slowly.
"She wasn't in danger."
Nyra's voice hardened. "Oh yes she was. The bond has stirred more than just you, it has awaken something else. You felt it, didn't you? The veil thinning. You called the past back with her name."
He didn't respond right away. Instead, he stared into the darkness beyond.
"I had to know if she remembered," he said finally. "Not just the dreams, But me."
Nyra took a step closer, her hair glowing faintly like the moon behind clouds.
"And if she had run away?" she asked softly. "Would you have stayed in the dark?"
"No," Damian murmured. "But it would've changed everything."
She studied him for a moment. "What do you plan to do now that you walk in your human form again? The world has moved on. You're not a prince in a marble hall. You're myth. Most of your kind are ash or dust."
He pushed off the wall, rolling his shoulders, flesh and bone creaking after centuries of stillness.
"Well I'm not like them. The world might have moved one but certain things hasn't changed."
Nyra's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Well you are right, certain things hasn't changed and wouldn't change." she added. "The humans respect the rich and power. You need Money and fame in order to be respected.
Damian's gaze hardened. "It's time to visit an old friend."
He moved toward an alcove, kneeling before a small obsidian tablet embedded in the stone. His fingers glowed faintly as they brushed its surface. He whispered a name.
"Thorne Blackwell."
Nyra tilted her head. "You still think he's alive?"
"Yes he is, he would do anything to survive. A greedy old man." Damian said, voice low and steady. "He has been managing my assets for centuries. I bet he has now earned a fortune for himself. Let's pay him a visit."
The tablet pulsed once, then began to hum.
Nyra turned away, hugging herself as though warding off an unseen chill.
"The Order will hunt faster now. Lucien won't wait. And Elian..." She hesitated, voice barely above a whisper. "She's not ready for what's coming, She's just 17."
"She was never meant to be ready." Damian said. "Fate never asks for permission."
Nyra's eyes caught his, glowing softly. "You would have to protect her this time, at all cost."
He said nothing. His voice caught in his throat as the echo of a name lingered, heavy as a promise made before time.
"Elian."
*********
Far away, in an office high above the city skyline, an alarm buzzed. There sat Thorne Blackwell behind a desk, busy with some paper-works.
He knew Damian has awaken and awaits him....
To be continued.....