Lian Pov:
The hall outside the human's cell was dark, only the fire burning in the wall niches drew golden shades upon the stone floor.
Lira walked through it in quick steps, almost too quiet.
The metal armor upon him beat with every movement click-click-click until it became unbearable.
He stopped midway, reached to his neck, and pulled the clasp of the armor.
The air was hot. Too thick.
But that wasn't what made him sweat.
He closed his eyes for a moment and saw the human's face pale skin, confused eyes, a gaze trying to understand everything.
There was something in those eyes not fear, but recognition.
As if Ilan knew who stood before him, even before realizing it himself.
"Nonsense," he whispered. "He's a stranger. Nothing more."
But his body was not convinced.
His heart beat too fast.
A scorching heat climbed up his back. The heavy door slammed behind him.
The black stone walls swallowed his voice; only small flames flickered in the burning hearth.
It was a vast yet empty room: a wide bed with dark sheets, a table of polished lava stone, a balcony overlooking the abyss.
From here, the city looked like an anthill of light.
Rivers of lava crossed it slowly, and the burning towers cast moving shadows, like dancing corpses.
Lian threw his sword to the floor.
It let out a loud metallic sound that echoed through the room.
He leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, and for a moment there was perfect silence.
"Why do I feel like this…"
He walked by the table, opened the small communicator that held a clear crystal used for sending messages then closed it immediately.
No.
Not now.
He couldn't report.
Not like this.
He entered the bathing chamber.
Its high ceiling rested on columns coated with black lava, and streams of water flowed through stone arches into a small natural pool at the center of the room.
The water shimmered with soft golden light, sending up warm steam.
He removed his armor layer by layer, until only his bare body was left to the mist.
Every movement seemed like he was fighting himself as if each piece of clothing that fell released with it a layer of control.
He descended into the water slowly.
The heat wrapped him from every side, soft at first, then searing.
Water in the demon realm does not cool it carries living energy within.
But the heat only spread, a feeling of discomfort. His skin felt like it was laying heavy on his body, he tried to rub the feeling away. But the moment he touched his chest it was as if lightning had passed through his body and was sent straight to his lower abdomen he reached out and held himself, trying to release the incomprehensible frustration. Pull after pull he felt himself approaching climax. Two or three more movements and he finished, he felt at that moment as if he had left his body for a few moments.
His eyes closed.
And the memories, or maybe something else, began to surface.
Not his memories.
Flashes of white light, the sound of metal, a soft laugh, a woman's voice.
Black hair.
The touch of a hand.
A voice saying:
"Look, Elias… it's working…"
He gasped, opened his eyes.
The water around him trembled, forming small waves, as if frightened by the energy bursting from him.
"Who is she?" he whispered.
There was no answer.
Only a deep pulse in his stomach, a heat surging that he couldn't explain.
He placed his hand on his abdomen, feeling the inner tremor.
It wasn't pain.
It was… desire.
Not merely physical desire, but an inner call, a primal urge as if something in his soul recognized something in that human.
"This is madness," he told himself.
"I am a prince. Son of the blood of fire. There is no place for such weakness."
But the other voice in his heart whispered otherwise:
Maybe it isn't weakness. Maybe it's memory.
He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself.
The water grew heavier.
Steam rose, veiling his face, leaving only his golden eyes gleaming within the mist.
When he came out of the water, thick silence surrounded him.
He wrapped himself in a black cloak, stepped to the balcony.
Below, the bridges looked alive, moving like veins of this world.
He gazed at them, his eyes focusing on a far point the place where the human was kept.
"He should not have been here," he said quietly.
"But maybe… he didn't come by chance."
Lian ran a hand through his wet hair, burning the thoughts in his heart.
"Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll report him to the council.
Tonight… I just need to breathe."
But he knew
he wasn't truly calm.
Because behind his eyes, every time he tried to close them,
that same man appeared again.
With those too-human eyes.
With the scent of another world.
And with the name
a name he couldn't forget.
Elias.
A name that sounded like an ancient echo,
like a whisper that had always been there.