Tragedy of Divinity

Chapter 36: The First Night in Loyrn

The gas lamp flickered weakly on the bedside table, casting long shadows across the cramped room. The faint hum of the city outside was constant, almost hypnotic, as if Loyrn itself was alive and breathing. It wasn't the chaos of a wild forest or the deafening roars of Nexus beasts, but the city's quiet, eerie hum was unnerving in its own way.

Lucian sat on the floor by the corner, leaning back against the cold wall. His sword rested beside him, its polished surface gleaming faintly in the dim light. He hadn't even bothered to remove his boots, his posture rigid, as though he expected an ambush at any moment. His sharp black eyes darted around the room, observing every creak, every flicker of light.

Quintin, sprawled out on the only bed, was already snoring softly. His backpack of food sat neatly at the foot of the bed, a testament to his strange priorities. He had managed to consume three sandwiches, a chunk of cheese, and a small loaf of bread before passing out, his arm dangling over the side of the bed.

Seraphine, sitting on the chair by the gas lamp, watched Quintin with a faint look of disbelief. "How can he sleep so easily?" she murmured, running her finger along the edge of her dagger.

"He's an idiot," Lucian replied without hesitation.

Seraphine raised a brow, leaning back in her chair. "At least he's adaptable." She didn't necessarily mean it as a compliment, but she couldn't deny that Quintin's oblivious nature allowed him to adjust to the Nexus far better than most newcomers.

Lucian scoffed. "Adaptable or just too dumb to realize the danger he's in?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. His cold expression softened slightly, more contemplative than usual. "Places like Loyrn aren't safe. They give you this illusion of order, but it's all a facade. It's just another trap."

"Everything in the Nexus is a trap," Seraphine said simply, turning her attention to her blade. The dim light caught the dagger's edge, revealing a delicate pattern etched into the steel—runes from some ancient language. She had spent centuries in this place, learning its nuances, its dangers. Yet even with all her experience, Loyrn unsettled her in a way she couldn't quite place.

Lucian's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his sharp eyes narrowing. "You've been here longer than I have. What do you think of this place?"

Seraphine paused, considering the question. "It's too perfect," she said finally. "Clean streets, well-dressed people, no visible signs of conflict. It's the kind of peace that hides something darker. The Nexus doesn't allow true peace to exist. Not for long."

Lucian grunted in agreement. "And the people here… too polite, too structured. They're either hiding something, or they've already given in to whatever controls this city."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the hum of the city outside growing louder in the stillness. Seraphine glanced toward the window, where the faint glow of gas lamps illuminated the foggy streets.

"Are you going to stay up all night?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Lucian didn't answer immediately. He glanced at the bed, where Quintin was now mumbling something unintelligible in his sleep, then back at Seraphine. "Someone has to keep watch," he said finally.

She gave a faint smirk. "Paranoid much?"

"Cautious," Lucian corrected. "Big difference."

Seraphine didn't argue. She knew better than anyone that caution was a necessity in the Nexus. Still, she couldn't help but find Lucian's relentless vigilance exhausting. She stood, slipping her dagger back into its sheath, and walked over to the window.

The view of Loyrn at night was hauntingly beautiful. The gas lamps cast an ethereal glow over the cobblestone streets, and the towering spires of the city loomed like silent sentinels. Yet something about the city felt off, as though it were watching them in return.

"You should rest," she said quietly, not turning from the window.

Lucian snorted. "I'll rest when I'm dead."

"Charming," Seraphine replied dryly. She returned to her chair, sitting with the poise of someone who had spent centuries perfecting control over her emotions. "Suit yourself, but don't expect me to save you when you collapse from exhaustion."

"I won't need saving," Lucian muttered, leaning his head back against the wall.

The hours passed slowly, the room filled with the occasional creak of the floorboards and Quintin's soft snores. Seraphine eventually drifted into a light sleep in the chair, her dagger still within reach.

Lucian remained awake, his gaze fixed on the door. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready for anything. The Nexus had taught him one lesson above all others: never let your guard down.

The Midnight Disturbance

Sometime after midnight, a faint sound broke the stillness—a soft tapping, like fingernails against glass. Lucian's head snapped up, his hand tightening on his sword.

"Seraphine," he hissed, his voice low but sharp.

She woke instantly, years of survival honing her reflexes. Her hand went to her dagger as she glanced toward the window.

The tapping grew louder, more insistent. Quintin stirred in his sleep but didn't wake.

"What is that?" Seraphine whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lucian didn't answer. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate and silent, and approached the window. The fog outside made it impossible to see anything clearly, but the tapping continued, now accompanied by a faint scratching sound.

Seraphine joined him, her dagger drawn. "Do you see anything?"

Lucian shook his head. "Stay back."

He reached for the latch and hesitated for a moment before pulling the window open. A rush of cold air filled the room, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and metal.

The street below was empty.

Lucian frowned, his grip tightening on his sword. "Whatever it was, it's gone."

Seraphine didn't look convinced. She scanned the foggy street, her instincts screaming that something wasn't right.

From the bed, Quintin let out a loud snore, breaking the tension.

Lucian sighed, closing the window. "We'll deal with it in the morning," he said, though his tone suggested he had no intention of letting his guard down.

Seraphine nodded reluctantly, returning to her chair. The tapping had stopped, but the uneasy feeling lingered, settling over the room like a heavy shroud.

As the hours dragged on, neither Seraphine nor Lucian slept. Loyrn's quiet hum seemed louder than ever, as though the city itself was watching, waiting.

End of chapter 36.