Nyx

They/them

..And they stand at the bank of the River Lethe. Magic flowers around them as Korvax studies the swirling waters while Mythrine looks at the threads in the sky. They can feel the Veil becoming thinner, land of the living and the land of the dead draw closer together as the magic in the air builds.

They've taught each other what is needed in order to help these new souls to cross back over the Veil. Some need to look to the future while others must let go of the past.

The height of the equinox arrives with a crash. The Veil seems to shake and magic sparks and flickers between iridescence and transparency, brilliant and cloudy. Korvax and Mythrine begin to weave their magic to bring their chosen souls to the world of the living.
Cold. Emptiness. Void. Nyx was lost, lost somewhere free of warmth or colour. A cool grey haze floated around them, and their feet stood in a shallow, chilled river. Death. Nyx was beyond the veil. But no! They were not ready to go! Their soul struggled against the slow, relentless tug of the river, struggled and called and resisted.

And help came. Korvax heard the cry of this lost soul and wrapped them in his power. The next few moments were a confusion of light and swirling colours. And heat. Oh, the glorious heat of life! Nyx was reborn, and they would not waste this second chance.