Hymn of Peace

The air hung heavy, thick with the smell of metal and smoke. Reynold, or as this world called him, Ryzen, stood on the jagged rooftop and stared at the fractured skyline. The city below pulsed like a wounded beast, its veins of fire flickering through the night. Three years had passed in this strange place that refused to let him wake up.

He had stopped counting the days when the sun began to bleed red more often than gold. Dreams were not supposed to last this long. Dreams were not supposed to hurt.

Down in the crowded streets, names like Josh or Denis earned nothing but suspicious glares. So “Ryzen” stuck. It fit the tone of the world, sharp, strange, and heavy with something ancient.

The first time he heard the words “Subject of Mori," he thought it was another rumor from the taverns. Then he saw one of them. Their eyes shimmered faintly, like a reflection of violet glass, and the air around them seemed to hum with invisible weight. People called them blessed, though the way others flinched from their presence made it look more like a curse.

The books he scavenged told stories of ancient gods. One name appeared again and again — Mori. A deity who once ruled this world, his power unmatched. Another god, Symphony, rose against him, born from envy and chaos. The clash of the two tore the heavens apart. Mori sealed Symphony away but sacrificed his own life to do it. Before his end, he shattered his divine essence into countless fragments and scattered them among those he deemed worthy.

Some were born carrying that burden. Others, like Ryzen, were simply pulled into this world, their souls fused with the fragment by something far beyond their understanding.

Now, under the blood-streaked moon, Ryzen stood in silence. The world felt alive and hostile, watching him. Somewhere inside, the fragment throbbed like a second heartbeat, a reminder of the god’s dying will.

If restoring peace was the only path to freedom, then he would walk it. But as the city’s fires reflected in his eyes, a quiet thought lingered. What if this world did not want peace at all?

Violence had become the pulse of this land. Screams bled into the sound of steel and the heavy silence that followed. Blood marked the cobblestones like forgotten paint, and even the wind carried the scent of iron. Peace was a myth buried deep under the rubble of burned towns and broken laws.

Each year, the King’s soldiers marched through the capital square. They chose five souls touched by the fragments, binding them to a sacred mission to restore balance. Ryzen had been among them once. He still remembered the way the world went quiet when his name was called.

Since that day, the mark beneath his skin had never stopped burning. It glowed faintly under moonlight, pulsing with an energy that felt older than the world itself. The others treated him carefully, as if a single word might set him off. Maybe they were right to.

Ryzen sat near the edge of the campfire, watching the flames dance against the night wind. The others were scattered around the clearing, each one lost in their own rhythm. It had taken him years to understand them, to read the small habits that made up their strange group.

Nyx sat closest to the shadows, her silver hair glimmering faintly in the flicker of the fire. Her blue eyes reflected the light like twin shards of ice, unbothered by the world around her. She never said much, never entertained the stares that followed her wherever they went. Beauty surrounded her like an aura, quiet and untouchable. When Ryzen first arrived, dazed and bleeding from confusion, it was Nyx who reached out a steady hand. She had a calm that could silence storms, and for that, he owed her more than he could ever say.

Milo, on the other hand, was chaos wrapped in a grin. He balanced a twig on his nose while his green hair caught the firelight, glowing like emerald glass. He lived to stir trouble, to poke at people until they snapped, yet he was the first to lend a hand when things went south. His kindness was hidden under layers of laughter, and though Ryzen would never admit it out loud, the group would be emptier without him.

Across from him sat Violet, quiet as always. She traced small shapes into the dirt, her pale fingers brushing the ground like she was sketching her thoughts. Her hair, a soft shade of lavender, framed her face in a way that made her seem like she’d stepped out of a dream. Her dark clothes contrasted against her gentle eyes, giving her that gothic aura that Milo absolutely could not ignore. Every time he tried to impress her, the result was pure comedy. Ryzen had stopped trying to intervene. Watching Milo crash and burn had become its own form of entertainment.

And then there was Frig. The youngest of them all, yet somehow the most composed. His eyes carried a stillness far older than his age, and the air around him always felt a little colder. When he trained, frost bloomed under his feet, and the trees crackled with ice. A prodigy, the others called him, though Ryzen sometimes wondered if Frig even cared for the title.

Out of everyone, Nyx was the only one who knew the truth about him, how he wasn’t born here, how he’d been pulled into this world by something he didn’t understand. Maybe that was why he trusted her the most. She never asked questions that would hurt to answer.

Their powers bound them together, even when their personalities tried to pull them apart. Nyx shaped darkness like silk between her fingers. Milo could twist his body into anything he imagined. Violet tuned the world itself, bending sound and magnetism to her will. Frig breathed frost, freezing the air into shards of beauty and danger.

Ryzen’s own power was a strange gift, one that both thrilled and frightened him. He could mimic the abilities of others three at a time but each one came with a cost. Every use felt like gambling with something he could never get back.

The fire crackled louder as the wind picked up. Around him, laughter and silence blended together. For all their differences, they were bound by the same fate, the same curse, and maybe...just maybe, the same fragile hope.

The night deepened, stars smudging across the sky like faint bruises. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, and the air carried a quiet chill. Ryzen watched the others, their shadows stretching long and soft across the dirt. Power came at a price here. Every one of them carried a secret that clawed at them in silence.

Frig sat closest to the flames, though never too close. His breath fogged the air, and frost gathered on the grass around his boots. Even a spark that drifted too near made him flinch back. His skin always felt cold to the touch, and his pulse beat slower than any human’s should. Too much heat and his body would give out entirely. Life had to stay cold for him, or not at all.

Nyx sat beside a dying log, her expression unreadable as always. The darkness curled around her like it belonged to her, like it listened. Yet even she had limits. Love, for her, was a forbidden thing. The moment she let her heart soften for someone, the curse would claim half their life. Maybe that was why she always looked so composed because even caring too deeply was deadly.

Violet was already lying down, wrapped in a blanket that barely reached her shoulders. Her breathing was soft but uneven. She had used her power earlier that day, bending the sound waves of a collapsing bridge to protect a group of villagers. Now she could barely lift her head. Five minutes of her ability drained her strength to nothing, leaving her trapped between sleep and exhaustion for hours. Watching her struggle always twisted something inside Ryzen.

Milo, on the other hand, never showed weakness, but his curse was its own kind of humiliation. Earlier that week, he had transformed into a merchant to sneak past guards. Now, his reflection still carried the merchant’s thick eyebrows and uneven beard. It would take a month before his real face came back. He tried to laugh about it, but every time someone mentioned it, his smile flickered for just a second too long.

As for Ryzen, sleep was something he could no longer claim. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the powers he had stolen flickering through his mind like burning ghosts. The echo of Violet’s fatigue, the whisper of Nyx’s shadows, the taste of frost that belonged to Frig. It was as if their abilities had lives of their own, haunting him, punishing him for using them.

The group said nothing about their pain. They didn’t have to. It hung in the air between them, quiet and heavy, woven into every glance and every silence that passed.

Ryzen leaned back against the log, staring into the dying fire. “Power always has a cost,” he murmured under his breath.

And in this world, it was never just strength that burned away, it was pieces of themselves.

The embers hissed as Ryzen poked the fire with a stick, sending a few sparks spinning into the dark. The night was calm for once, no screams, no distant clashes, just the whisper of crickets and the soft hum of the wind. He let out a tired sigh and glanced around at the others.

“So,” he said, breaking the quiet, “we patrolling tomorrow or what?”

Nyx didn’t look up, just traced small circles in the dirt with her finger. “If the King’s guards want to waste our time again, then sure. But I’d prefer not to spend the morning walking in circles for nothing.”

Ryzen smirked. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that. What about you, Milo?”

Milo yawned, stretching his arms dramatically. “Man, I was thinking of turning into a bird and napping in a tree instead. Patrol’s boring, and the last one nearly got me stabbed.” He chuckled, then tilted his head toward Violet. “Unless you’re coming. Then maybe I’ll reconsider.”

Violet didn’t even lift her gaze from the small crystal she was holding. “You’d just fall asleep halfway through and expect me to wake you up.”

“Exactly,” Milo said with a grin. “See, you get me.”

Ryzen rolled his eyes. “You two sound like an old couple.”

Frig, who had been quietly sitting near the edge of the light, finally spoke up. “Actually, I won’t be joining the patrol tomorrow.”

Milo raised an eyebrow. “What, got a date or something, ice boy?”

Frig’s expression didn’t change. “No. I just thought I’d visit the park near the old clock tower. It’s been a while since I saw anything that wasn’t half on fire.”

That earned a small laugh from Ryzen. “You? Having fun? That’s new.”

Frig gave a faint shrug, his tone as even as ever. “I’m allowed to relax once in a while. I heard they rebuilt the fountain there. It’s supposed to have colored lights now.”

Milo leaned closer, pretending to whisper loudly. “He’s totally meeting someone. That’s what that sounds like.”

“Maybe I just want to feed the birds,” Frig replied flatly, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Nyx’s voice came soft and calm. “You should go. You’ve earned it. We can handle a patrol without you for once.”

Ryzen grinned. “Fine, fine. But if you start enjoying yourself too much, we’ll come drag you back.”

Frig stood up, brushing frost from his sleeves. “I’ll take that as motivation not to.”

Laughter rippled around the campfire, soft and fleeting. For a moment, the world didn’t feel so cursed.

The fire had burned down to faint red coals by the time most of them started getting drowsy. Milo had somehow ended up trying to balance a spoon on his nose, Violet was shaking her head with a tired smile, and Frig had already claimed his spot under a nearby tree, wrapped in his cloak.

Ryzen leaned back, watching the mess unfold. “You guys are unbelievable,” he muttered.

Milo pointed at him with the spoon. “You say that like you’re not the one who tripped over your own sword last week.”

“That was strategy,” Ryzen said. “The sword needed… repositioning.”

Violet snorted softly, which made Milo laugh even harder.

Ryzen sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The laughter, the teasing — it made the night feel a little more human. But his gaze drifted to Nyx, who was sitting a little apart from the group, her silver hair catching the faint glow of the dying fire.

She looked peaceful for once, her usual cold composure softened by the quiet. Ryzen hesitated for a second, then stood up and brushed the dirt off his coat.

“Hey, Nyx?” he called, walking over.

She turned her head slightly, one eyebrow raised. “What is it?”

“I was thinking,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, “since Frig’s off doing whatever tomorrow, and Milo will probably be... you know, existing loudly, maybe we should grab breakfast. Just the two of us.”

Nyx blinked, her expression unreadable for a moment. “Breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Ryzen said quickly. “There’s that little inn by the market square. I heard they make actual coffee there. Not the mud-water Milo keeps brewing.”

“Hey, I heard that,” Milo shouted from behind them, still balancing the spoon. It immediately clattered to the ground. “And for the record, my coffee builds character.”

“Your coffee builds hospital bills,” Violet said quietly, earning a soft laugh from Ryzen.

Nyx’s lips curved just slightly — the faintest ghost of a smile. “Alright. Breakfast then.”

“Cool,” Ryzen said, trying not to sound too relieved. “It’s a date. I mean— not a date, date. Just— breakfast.”

Milo gasped dramatically. “Ryzen’s asking Nyx out? Oh, this is history. I’m witnessing history!”

“Go to sleep, Milo,” Ryzen said without turning around.

“Can’t. Too proud of you, man,” Milo replied, lying back and putting his hands behind his head.

Frig’s voice drifted lazily from under the tree. “If you all do not quiet down, I will freeze this entire campsite.”

“Goodnight, Frig,” Violet said softly.

“Goodnight,” he murmured back.

Ryzen sat back down beside the dying fire, his cheeks still warm for reasons unrelated to the flames. Across the camp, Nyx’s faint smile lingered as she turned her gaze to the stars.

For once, everything felt calm.