He was… pure.
That was the first thing Nyx noticed.
He stood at the edge of the water, dressed in a white and blue kimono—the white so pristine it seemed to glow, the blue vivid enough to mirror the sky itself. His skin held a smooth, jade-like quality, untouched by the harshness of the desert, and a blindfold covered his eyes.
He was kneeling when she first saw him.
Now, slowly, he rose to his feet.
And despite everything—the desolation, the blood, the death—
He looked completely out of place.
Nyx should have been wary.
Afraid, even.
She was a demon. That alone marked her as prey in most lands, something to be hunted, feared, destroyed. And this man… everything about him felt wrong. Not in the way of monsters or corruption, but in a way that didn't belong in this world at all.
Different.
Controlled.
Dangerous.
She was injured. Paralysed. Barely able to move.
And yet—
For reasons she couldn't understand—
She felt… calm.
If it comes down to it, she thought coolly, I can still kill him.
The man reached down and picked up his katana from where it rested on the sand. It was a beautiful weapon—white, faintly luminous, with delicate runes etched along the length of its blade. Its sheath, a deep, polished blue, hung easily at his side.
The movement was unhurried.
Not threatening.
Not careless.
"You are bleeding," he said.
Nyx stared at him from across the water, silent for a moment. He wasn't moving closer. Wasn't offering help. Just standing there, stating the obvious.
She exhaled softly.
"I'll live," she said. As long as you don't kill me first. Her gaze narrowed slightly. "But if it matters to you… why aren't you coming to help?"
The man paused.
Then he chuckled, shaking his head lightly.
"No… no, no."
He gestured toward the water, as if the answer should be obvious.
"My clothes might get wet."
Nyx's eye twitched.
This—this—was what he chose to say?
A maiden half-dead in a cursed oasis, and he was worried about his outfit?
She scoffed, irritation cutting through her exhaustion.
"How ungentlemanly."
He laughed again, a small, easy sound, the faintest hint of a playful smile lingering on his lips.
"I don't actually care," he said plainly. "For one, we clearly don't trust each other." His head tilted slightly in her direction. "For all I know, you're trying to lure me to my death."