[table][row][cell][/cell][cell][/cell][cell][img]https://i.imgur.com/MrFrT8O.png[/img][/cell][cell][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240714/3001ee5176d2d725b016218b6c5bde89.png[/img][/cell][cell][/cell][/row][/table][sub]Location: Eye of the Beholder [/sub]


Nyla slowed her pace as she approached the town square, taking in the sights around her. A small smile crept onto her lips as she gazed at the quaint village of Dawnhaven, so different from the grandeur of Aurelia. It reminded her of the eastern sands of her homeland—smaller, with fewer people—but here, the air was bitterly cold, a stark contrast to the warmth of those distant dunes. 

Her eyes drifted to her left, where a man lingered on the outskirts of a group deep in conversation, his demeanor casual yet tense. She noted the dagger in his hands, the way his eyes glowed subtly despite his otherwise human appearance. Her attention moved past him to the group he was watching—a striking collection of people. A silver-haired woman, three blonde women—one of whom was unmistakably blight-born, her horns mirroring Nyla’s own hidden ones—a blonde man, and a brunette woman with a single large eye and a snake’s tail. Nyla felt a pang of something unnameable as she observed the blight-born among them, openly displaying their traits, unafraid and unapologetic. It was a stark contrast to her own illusion, which masked her true form to appear human. Then again, perhaps they had no choice. She had heard that blight-born traits varied greatly, and she wondered if her own ability to shapeshift was unique to her alone.

As Nyla’s eyes roamed the path ahead, they suddenly froze in place. There, just down the way, stood the Prince of Aurelia—Flynn. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him. He had changed; his face now bore a rugged stubble, no longer the clean-shaven man she’d known in the capital. His hair was slightly longer, though still as unruly as ever. And he looked… tired. Something in his eyes had changed, a spark lost. 

Her gaze shifted downward, finding a woman in his arms, as Flynn spoke sternly to a large man standing before them. Nyla’s heart twisted painfully, her eyes lingering on the woman. She was gorgeous, fitting perfectly against Flynn’s chest—the same place where Nyla had once nestled, where she could almost still hear the echo of his heartbeat and smell his cologne. 

Her breath grew shaky as she watched the two of them, the way their eyes met, and the way Flynn’s gaze softened as he looked at the woman in his arms—so gentle, so tender, the way he used to look at her. Nyla bit down on her lower lip, fighting against the wave of emotions threatening to break free. 

Just three months ago, she’d told herself that what they’d had was nothing more than a long-term fling. Nothing ever lasted, she knew that. She’d always known they could never be together; she had told him that for years. He was the prince of Aurelia, and she was just a wandering vagrant. But seeing them like this—seeing him with her—it still hurt, deeper than she’d expected. She knew he had been forced to marry the princess of Lunaris, but it didn’t make the sting any less painful. Had Flynn already found love within the Princess, despite their circumstances? Had it been so easy to leave Nyla in the past? She knew what to expect when she decided to come here, but she hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

As the woman in Flynn’s arms stepped away, Flynn began to look around. Nyla’s heart raced, panic rising in her chest. She wanted to hide, to disappear, but she couldn't tear her gaze away from him. It was like watching a disaster unfold, something she couldn’t look away from. And then, suddenly, their eyes met. The breath caught in her throat, the energy between them electric and wild as they stared at one another. Flynn’s face seemed to freeze, though Nyla could see the pain flickering in his eyes. Her own vision blurred with unshed tears, threatening to spill over.

Before they could, she tore her gaze away, her heart aching as she turned sharply and headed into the tavern. She didn’t want to face him, not now. She knew Flynn’s duties went beyond her, that his responsibilities stretched far beyond their past, but that knowledge didn’t dull the pain. As she stepped inside, memories flooded her mind—images of Flynn whispering sweet nothings in her ear, holding her close as if nothing in the world could pull them apart. And yet, something had—the goddesses, the church, the prophecy.

As she pushed open the door to the tavern, the warmth inside hit her, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in her heart. She just needed a moment to gather herself, to forget the man she had once loved… if only for a little while.