Chapter Text
Night deepened over Lost Hex, wrapping the camp in long shadows and an unsettling quiet.
After eating with Zomom and receiving Zik’s unexpected approval, (Y/n) decided to practice a bit more of the basic exercises the elder had taught them.
They didn’t want to bother anyone.
They didn’t want attention.
They just wanted to improve.
So they walked a few meters away from the camp, to a moonlit area where the floating platforms formed a small natural circle.
They took a deep breath.
Repeated the movements Zik had shown them: balance, posture, footwork.
But Lost Hex was never forgiving.
One of the floating stones shifted sharply under their foot.
(Y/n) lost their balance.
They tried to step onto another rock, but that one moved too.
The void opened beneath them.
“No, no, no—!”
They slipped.
Fell forward.
Felt the vertigo twist in their stomach.
And then something grabbed them.
A hand, firm, brutally strong, closed around their forearm with a precision that left no room for doubt.
Zavok.
He had appeared out of nowhere, as if he had been watching from the shadows.
His grip was so solid that (Y/n) felt the blood stop for a second, but it didn’t hurt.
It was pure strength—controlled, focused.
Zavok pulled them up with a sharp, instinctive motion, placing them on their feet in an instant.
(Y/n) gasped for air.
“W-Were you… here?”
Zavok didn’t answer.
His chest rose and fell heavily, as if he had been running.
As if the scare had been his.
His eyes burned.
Not with anger.
With something more primal.
More protective.
(Y/n) swallowed.
“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
Zavok stepped back, as if he needed distance to think.
As if his own body had acted without asking him first.
He turned abruptly.
“Be more careful,” he growled, but there was no harshness in his voice.
There was… fear.
Fear for them.
And before (Y/n) could say anything else, Zavok walked away quickly, as if escaping were the only way to regain control.
Zik emerged from behind a rock, leaning on his staff, wearing a smile that was both wise and amused.
“An interesting reaction,” he commented.
(Y/n) turned toward him, still trembling.
“Why… did he do that? Why did he come so fast?”
Zik approached, examining the edge of the platform.
“Because he thought you were going to fall,” he said calmly.
“And when someone believes something they care about is in danger… they don’t think. They act.”
(Y/n)’s heart skipped.
“He… cares?”
Zik smiled mischievously.
“More than he understands.”
(Y/n) looked toward the direction Zavok had gone, feeling a mix of confusion, fear, and something warm they couldn’t name.
Zik placed a hand on their leg.
“Don’t worry, child. Zavok doesn’t know what he feels. But he is feeling it.”
(Y/n) lowered their gaze, cheeks warm.
“Is that… good?”
Zik let out a soft laugh.
“For you, yes. For him… it’s a disaster.”