Chapter 5: The Chain-Clad Traveler
Nyata and Aberrane were on the road again, and as usual, it didn't take long before words started flying.
"I swear that was a dragon!" Aberrane snapped, pointing at the cloudy sky as they trudged down the dirt path.
Nyata threw his hands up. "You're out of your mind! Dragons aren't real! You probably saw a fat bird and got excited!"
"Excited? I am a Priestess of Alanhig, not some peasant chasing shadows!" she shot back, crossing her arms with a sharp flick of her hair.
"Priestess or not, your 'holy sight' clearly needs glasses," Nyata said, smirking.
Aberrane's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't know sacred vision if it burned itself into your retinas."
"And you wouldn't know reality if it bit you on the-"
"Watch your tongue, child."
"Child? I'm older than you!"
"In spirit? Maybe. In brain cells? Certainly not."
Nyata glared, jaw tight. "Remind me again why I didn't just leave you in that stupid glass tank?"
"Because without me, you'd be dead, lost, or both!"
"And with you, I'm deaf and angry!"
Aberrane huffed and sped up, her cloak swaying sharply behind her. "You're lucky Alanhig doesn't let me curse mortals anymore."
"Yeah, lucky me," Nyata muttered under his breath.
She turned just enough for him to see the venomous smile curling her lips. "What was that?"
"Nothing, holy one!"
Their argument was cut short by the sound of a cry.
"Help! Someone help me!"
The tension vanished. Aberrane bolted ahead, annoyance replaced by genuine concern. A small boy sat on the roadside, blood running down his forehead.
"Owwwwww!" he whimpered.
Aberrane knelt beside him. "What happened, little one?"
"I-I fell! Wahhhh!"
"Shh, it's alright, little spark," she said softly. "Ignebugn Gnemat Saraw."
The words flowed from her tongue like music, each syllable bending the air. Golden motes danced around her hand, swirling before sinking into the boy's skin. The wound closed, leaving no trace of blood.
Nyata watched, completely mesmerized. "Beautiful..." he whispered, eyes unfocused.
Aberrane glanced over her shoulder, smirking. "You said something?"
He blinked rapidly. "N-no! It was the kid!"
"Really? What did he say?"
"He said you're... uh... weird!"
Aberrane's eyebrow twitched. "Is that so?"
"Yep!"
"Funny. I didn't hear him say that."
"Maybe your holy ears are broken too!"
Her smile sharpened. "Keep talking, and they'll be the least of your worries."
They continued walking. Nyata kept his eyes forward, but his thoughts betrayed him. "There's no way I called her beautiful. Nope. Not me. It was the spell. The spell was beautiful."
As they walked deeper into the forest, the argument reignited.
"How long are we walking, anyway?" Nyata grumbled. "You said this shortcut would take half a day!"
"It would, if you didn't stop every ten minutes to complain about your feet!"
"They hurt!"
"You're wearing boots!"
"That's not the point!"
Aberrane exhaled through her nose, muttering, "I should've picked a quieter mortal..."
Nyata shot her a look. "Yeah? Well, I should've picked a quieter demon!"
Her head whipped toward him. "Demon?!"
"You heard me!"
"I am a Priestess! Of the old realm! I have guided kings and cleansed temples older than your bloodline!"
"And yet, here you are, chained to some kid with bad luck and worse patience!"
They glared at each other until Aberrane suddenly burst out laughing, soft at first, then genuine.
"What's so funny?" Nyata asked, brow furrowed.
"You," she said between chuckles. "You argue like an idiot, but you don't back down. I'll give you that."
Nyata smirked. "Yeah, well, someone has to keep you humble."
She rolled her eyes but smiled faintly. "Good luck with that, mortal."
Before either could respond, the forest's peace shattered. The smell of iron filled the air. In the clearing ahead, blood soaked the earth. The same boy they had saved, now still, lifeless. His father too, sprawled beside him.
Aberrane froze mid-step, disbelief twisting her features.
"Who... who did this?" she whispered.
Nyata's face hardened. "I'll find out."
A figure stood over the corpses, a man clad in dented armor, chains coiled across his shoulders, a gleaming metal sphere resting against his hip. His eyes were calm, almost sorrowful.
Nyata's fists clenched. "Aberrane," he said, his voice low and trembling. "Let's kill him."
She didn't hesitate. "Gladly."
The two launched forward, their earlier squabbles forgotten. The argument might return later, it always did, but for now, they moved like fire and thunder, a perfect storm bound by rage and purpose.
Nyata lunged first, closing the gap in a heartbeat. His fist shot toward the man's chest, but the Traveler tilted aside gracefully, the punch cutting through air. A split second later, the metal sphere shot forward, attached to a blur of chain.
Nyata ducked, barely avoiding the strike. The ball slammed into the ground, splintering rock.
Aberrane hissed, "Watch the chain, idiot!"
"I am watching it!" Nyata yelled back, rolling aside as the sphere rebounded like a comet, grazing his ribs. "You could help instead of criticizing!"
Aberrane raised her hand, runes flaring to life. "Fine! Stand still for half a second and maybe I will!"
"Not exactly an option right now!"
The Traveler pulled, the chain snapping taut, the sphere whirling like a storm. His expression stayed calm, mournful even, as if the fight itself was a burden.
Nyata darted forward again, sliding under the incoming strike and aiming for the man's knee. He landed the hit, but it barely staggered him. The chain coiled backward, and the Traveler spun with it, moving as though the weapon were alive.
Aberrane stepped back, chanting low. Her voice was soft yet sharp, ancient syllables that shimmered in the air. "Natepecak Hagnirmus."
The sound rippled through the clearing. The world seemed to pause, then blur. Aberrane vanished in a streak of radiant gold.
Nyata blinked. "What the-"
Before he could finish, Aberrane was already behind the Traveler, landing a powerful blow to his side. The impact sent sparks scattering off his armor. The Traveler stumbled, pulling his chain back instinctively.
Nyata grinned. "Nice hit!"
Aberrane smirked mid-motion. "Don't sound so surprised!"
"Wasn't surprised, just impressed!"
The Traveler straightened, the sorrow in his eyes deepening. "You two fight like children."
Nyata cracked his neck. "Children who are about to ruin your day."
The man flicked his wrist, and the chain shot out again, not straight this time, but branching, twisting, looping through the air like a metal serpent. It wrapped around trees, stones, and debris until Nyata realized too late what was happening.
"We're trapped," Aberrane breathed. Chains everywhere. Twisting, tightening.
"You're in my web," the Traveler said quietly.
Aberrane tried to speak another Request, but before she could finish, a loop snapped around her arms, binding them tight. A second chain coiled around her waist, pulling her off her feet. Her eyes widened in alarm as the links began to glow faintly.
"Nyata!" she cried out.
Nyata looked up just as the chain gagged her, silencing any chance of another Request. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. "Let her go!"
The Traveler said nothing. He pulled. The chains around Aberrane constricted. Her muffled cry echoed through the trees, and then came a sickening snap.
Nyata froze. His mind went blank. Then everything inside him ignited.
He leapt, his body moving faster than he thought possible, using the very chains meant to trap him as stepping stones. Each impact sent a metallic tremor through the web. The Traveler's eyes widened, just for a moment, before Nyata appeared right in front of him, swinging.
The first hit slammed into the Traveler's jaw. The second crashed into his gut. The third, pure fury, sent him staggering backward.
But he recovered quickly, pulling the sphere close, then whipping it upward. The ball smashed into Nyata's side, throwing him into the dirt. Before he could move, it came again, once, twice, three times, a storm of metal and pain.
"Get up," the Traveler murmured, as if pleading rather than taunting. "You don't have to-"
"Shut up!" Nyata snarled, blood running down his cheek. He grabbed the chain as it struck again, holding tight despite the burn on his palms. The Traveler's eyes widened.
"Your tricks" Nyata spat "won't stop me!"
With a sharp pull, he yanked the chain downward, dragging the Traveler off balance. In the same instant, he grabbed the metal sphere and swung it back with all his strength. The ball crashed into the ground beside the man, leaving a crater.
Then something shifted. Out of the corner of his eye, Nyata saw movement. Small, trembling. The boy. The boy they'd thought was dead. He stood shakily, eyes wide.
"Why are you fighting my hero?!" the boy shouted.
Nyata froze. The Traveler's chain went still.
"Your... hero?" Nyata asked, voice cracking.
The man, finally removing his helmet, nodded, breathing hard. "I killed the bandit who tried to sell him. Not the child."
Nyata's fists unclenched slowly. "You… didn't hurt them?"
"I did not."
The fury in Nyata's chest began to ebb, replaced by confusion and shame. He turned to the man again. "Then release her."
The Traveler nodded. The chains slackened, lowering Aberrane gently into Nyata's arms. She gasped for air, trembling but alive.
Nyata glared at the man through tears and sweat. "You could've said something sooner."
The Traveler sighed. "Would you have listened?"
"...Probably not," Nyata admitted.
The man stepped back, resting the chain on his shoulder. "My name is Atos Dirantai."
"Nyata."
"Aberrane," she croaked weakly, still catching her breath.
Atos bowed his head. "I'm sorry. I've been hunting someone, a man who spoke of the Hearth. He called himself Suhu Geni."
Nyata's eyes widened. "You've met him?"
"I've seen his fire. It's unlike any Mana technique I've ever known."
Nyata exchanged a glance with Aberrane, whose expression softened despite the pain.
"Then we're after the same man," Nyata said. "Join us."
Atos hesitated, then nodded. "It's the least I can do."
Nyata looked down at Aberrane, holding her gently as her breathing steadied. For a moment, their constant quarreling faded. Something else filled the silence, something softer, stranger. Hope.
Three days later, Aberrane stirred awake in a soft bed. The ceiling above her was wooden, the faint smell of herbs and incense hanging in the air. A healing ward, quiet and still, save for the faint shimmer of the barrier stones around her cot.
Her eyes opened fully. Nyata was there, slouched in a chair beside her, head resting against the wall, his clothes still scuffed from the fight. The morning light fell across his face.
She groaned softly. "N-Nyata?"
His eyes flicked open instantly, and for a moment, relief crossed his face. "Good morning, Aberrane."
She blinked. "You look... awful."
He grinned faintly. "You should see the other guy."
Aberrane gave a weak laugh before wincing. "I can't believe you carried me all the way here."
"You talk a lot for someone who was half-dead," Nyata said, trying to hide his smile.
"That's because I am half-dead," she muttered, crossing her arms, then pausing when the motion ached.
"You'll be fine," he said, softer now. "The ward's menders said you'll be walking again soon."
Aberrane's expression softened. "You really didn't leave, did you?"
"Someone had to make sure you didn't die just to spite me," Nyata teased, but his voice trembled slightly.
Aberrane blushed, looking away. "You're insufferable."
"And you're loud," he replied, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
Aberrane smirked faintly. "Guess we make a good team then, huh?"
Nyata's smile softened, the air between them heavy with unspoken things. "Yeah. I guess we do."