AI The air smelled like overripe peaches and something electric , like the moment before a storm when the sky hums with unseen energy. Aurora Carter stepped forward, her boots sinking slightly into the plush, golden carpet of petals beneath her feet. The petals weren’t just flowers—each one pulsed faintly, as if breathing, their edges shimmering with a sickly sweet glow. She reached out, brushing her fingers against one, and the sensation was like touching warm honey. A ripple of warmth spread up her arm, but it wasn’t unnatural—it was *alive *.
Beside her, Nyx moved like a shadow given form, their silhouette stretching and contracting as they shifted between solid and incorporeal. Their violet eyes gleamed, fixed on the sprawling vineyards that stretched endlessly before them. The vines weren’t just vines. They coiled and twisted in impossible patterns, bearing fruit that wasn’t quite real—at least, not in the way Aurora knew reality. Some were the size of melons, others no bigger than marbles, their skins rippling with colors that shifted between amber and deep crimson. A few hung suspended in midair, as if weightless, their stems frayed and lifeless.
“This isn’t Earth,” Nyx murmured, their voice a whisper carried on the wind. It slithered into Aurora’s ears, cool and precise, like a blade dragged across stone.
“No,” Aurora agreed, her pulse quickening . She adjusted the silver chain of the Heartstone Pendant around her neck, feeling the faint warmth of it against her skin. The pendant pulsed once, as if responding to the place. “But it’s not Hel, either.”
Isolde Varga stood a few paces behind them, her silver hair catching the warm amber light of the sky like spun moonlight. She didn’t move, didn’t speak—just watched, her pale lavender eyes unreadable . The air around her seemed to ripple, as if the very fabric of the world bent to her presence. Aurora had seen that before, the way time slowed when Isolde was near, the way the world felt… *thinner *.
“You’re certain of this?” Isolde asked at last, her voice like the rustle of dry leaves. “That this is not one of the Nine Circles?”
Aurora exhaled through her nose. “No. This is Dymas.”
Isolde’s lips curled, just slightly . “Then we are in luck.”
A gust of wind howled through the orchards, sending petals spiraling into the air like confetti. The fruit on the vines trembled , some of them falling to the ground with a wet *thud *. Aurora crouched, picking up one of the smaller, marble -sized fruits. It was warm to the touch, almost too warm, and when she pressed her thumb against it, a faint, sweet juice oozed between her fingers. She tasted it. It was like nothing she’d ever known—sweetness layered with something sharp, like the first bite of a fruit she’d never seen before, followed by a warmth that spread through her mouth and settled in her chest.
“What is this place?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper .
Nyx stepped closer, their form flickering like a candle flame in a draft. “A place of excess. A place where hunger is never satisfied.”
Aurora looked up. The sky above them wasn’t just amber—it was *alive *. Streaks of light danced across it, shifting colors like liquid fire, and the air hummed with a low, resonant vibration. It felt like standing at the edge of a storm, but one that wasn’t of this world.
“And the people here?” she asked.
“Those who cannot stop,” Nyx said. “Those who are bound by their desires.”
Isolde’s voice cut through the silence , sharp as a blade. “And those who are not.”
Aurora followed the direction of Isolde’s gaze. In the distance, between the rows of vines, a figure moved. Tall, slender, dressed in robes that shimmered like liquid silver. They carried a tray laden with more of the strange fruit, their movements fluid, effortless . Their face was obscured by the hood of their robes, but Aurora could feel the weight of their gaze.
“Prince Belphegor,” Isolde murmured.
The figure stopped, turning slightly . Their eyes—if they were eyes—gleamed with an unnatural light, like embers in the dark. A slow, deliberate smile curved their lips.
“Ah,” the voice echoed through the air, rich and smooth as aged whiskey. “Visitors.”
Aurora’s fingers tightened around the fruit in her hand. The warmth of it seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat.
“You are not of this realm,” the figure continued, their voice wrapping around them like silk . “But you are welcome here, as all are welcome in Dymas.”
Nyx stepped forward, their form solidifying for a moment before dissolving back into shadow. “We are not here to stay.”
The figure tilted their head, the movement predatory. “No. But you will eat.”
Aurora’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that moment, how the scent of the fruit, the warmth of it, had made her mouth water. But this wasn’t hunger. This was something deeper, something that gnawed at her bones.
“Isolde,” she said, glancing back at the Half-Fae woman. “What do we do?”
Isolde’s eyes were distant, her gaze fixed on the figure in the distance. “We do not eat.”
The figure laughed, a sound like chimes in a gale. “No? Then why do you tremble?”
Aurora’s breath hitched. She *was * trembling. Her fingers ached to reach for the fruit, to press it to her lips and taste the sweetness that called to her. She could feel it in her veins, a pull, a hunger that wasn’t her own.
“Because we are not meant to be here,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm inside her. “This is not our place.”
The figure’s smile widened. “Then leave.”
Aurora turned, her boots crunching on the petals as she walked. Nyx moved beside her, their presence a comforting darkness. Isolde followed, her silver hair catching the light as she moved.
They walked deeper into the orchards, the vines parting like a curtain before them. The air grew thicker, heavier, the scent of the fruit more intoxicating. Aurora’s lungs burned, her chest tight. She could see more of the strange fruits now, hanging from vines that stretched impossibly high, their colors shifting and pulsing. Some of them were piled in great heaps, untouched, as if waiting .
“Why does it feel like we’re being watched?” Aurora asked, her voice barely audible over the hum of the air .
Nyx didn’t answer. Their form flickered , their eyes fixed on something beyond the vines.
Isolde stopped suddenly , her hand pressing against a tree trunk. The bark was smooth, almost silky, and when she touched it, a faint glow emanated from her fingertips. “We are.”
Aurora followed her gaze. Between the vines, just beyond the reach of the light, something moved. Shadows that weren’t shadows, forms that shifted and twisted like smoke. They were watching them, their eyes gleaming with an unnatural light.
“Helbound,” Isolde whispered.
Aurora’s blood ran cold . “What do they want?”
Isolde’s voice was a whisper . “They want you to stay.”
Aurora swallowed hard. She could feel the pull of the fruit, the warmth of it, the promise of something more. But she knew, deep in her bones, that this was not her place. This was not where she belonged.
“Then we leave,” she said, her voice firm .
Nyx moved forward, their form solidifying as they stepped between the vines. The shadows recoiled, their forms flickering like dying embers. Aurora followed, her boots crunching on the petals, her fingers tightening around the fruit in her hand. She didn’t look back.
They walked until the vines thinned, until the air grew cooler, until the scent of the fruit faded. The orchards gave way to a great hall, its walls lined with more of the strange fruit, its ceiling lost in the amber glow of the sky. At the center of the hall stood a table, laden with more of the fruit, more of the sweetness that called to them.
Aurora’s breath caught. She could see it now, the feast that awaited them, the excess that was Dymas. She could feel the pull of it, the hunger that was not her own.
“No,” she said, her voice steady .
Nyx moved beside her, their form flickering like a candle flame in a draft. “We are not here to stay.”
Aurora turned, her eyes meeting Isolde’s. The Half-Fae woman’s eyes were distant, her gaze fixed on the hall before them. “Then we leave.”
And they did. They walked until the hall faded behind them, until the orchards thinned, until the vines parted like a curtain before them. The air grew cooler, the scent of the fruit fading. Aurora’s lungs burned, her chest tight, but she didn’t look back.
She didn’t have to. She could feel the pull of Dymas, the hunger that was not her own, but she knew, deep in her bones , that this was not her place. This was not where she belonged.
They walked until they reached the edge of the orchards, until the vines gave way to a great chasm, its depths lost in the amber glow of the sky. The air was cooler here, the scent of the fruit fading. Aurora’s breath came easier, her lungs no longer burning.
“Where to now?” Nyx asked, their voice a whisper carried on the wind .
Isolde’s voice was a whisper . “Home.”
Aurora nodded, her eyes fixed on the chasm before them. She could see the other side now, the world beyond Dymas, the world that was not hers. But it was a world she could return to.
She turned, her boots crunching on the petals as she walked. Nyx moved beside her, their presence a comforting darkness. Isolde followed, her silver hair catching the light as she moved.
They walked until they reached the edge of the chasm, until the vines parted like a curtain before them. The air was cooler here, the scent of the fruit fading. Aurora’s breath came easier, her lungs no longer burning.
She stepped forward, her boots sinking into the plush, golden carpet of petals. The world beyond stretched before her, familiar and strange, a place she could call home.
And for the first time in a long time, Aurora Carter felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.