The cathedral still smoked, its spires collapsed into heaps of blackened stone. The once-sacred place where Seraphine ruled with cruelty now lay in ruins, crumbling under the weight of centuries of blood and shadow. Evelyn stood on the threshold, her boots coated in soot, watching flames eat through what was left.
There was no celebration in the air. No cheers of victory. Only silence, like the world itself had paused to take a breath.
Lucien stood beside her, his face lit by the soft orange glow of the fire. He didn't speak. Neither of them had the energy for words.
Behind them, Elara sat on the fallen steps, her hands trembling in her lap. The sword she had once wielded with such fury lay across her knees. She stared into the fire, her expression unreadable.
"It's done," she whispered at last.
Evelyn didn't turn. Her voice was low and hollow. "No. It's only just beginning."
Elara glanced up at her. "Seraphine's gone. Her stronghold's destroyed. Isn't that what you wanted?"
"I thought so," Evelyn admitted. "But it doesn't feel like a victory."
Elara's voice cracked. "I don't even know what winning means anymore."
Lucien looked between the sisters. "You made a choice. You spared her. That matters."
Evelyn shook her head slowly. "We spared her power. Mercy doesn't always feel like strength. Sometimes it feels like a mistake."
A long silence followed. Snow began to fall, gentle flakes settling on ash and stone. The fire hissed as the snowflakes landed and melted.
For the first time in years, the sky was clear—no clouds, no magical storm. Only stars, flickering like distant memories.
They set up camp in the ruins of a small village nearby—once a quiet place, destroyed by Seraphine's forces years ago. Now, the stone walls stood like forgotten sentinels, but the air felt calm. Unhaunted.
Evelyn sat beside a flickering campfire, legs crossed, arms wrapped around herself.
Lucien brought her a mug of hot tea. "You haven't rested."
She took it without looking up. "There's too much in my head."
He sat beside her. "Talk to me."
She sipped slowly before answering. "We've been fighting for so long. For survival, for revenge. But now? What am I supposed to do with silence?"
Lucien looked at her, his voice gentle. "We learn how to breathe again. Together."
Evelyn turned to him, her eyes softening. "I don't know how."
He reached out and took her hand. "Then I'll teach you."
A tear slipped down her cheek. She didn't wipe it away. She let herself feel it—grief, confusion, maybe even a little hope.
At dawn, Evelyn climbed the hill overlooking the camp. A single stone grave sat beneath a crooked tree, marked with runes and a piece of violet ribbon tied around a branch.
Kaelith. Loyal. Fierce. Free.
Evelyn knelt, pressing her hand to the earth.
"Kael... I wish you could see it. The sky's finally clear. No more storms. No more fear."
She closed her eyes. "I think about you every day. The way you protected me, even when I didn't ask. The way you laughed, even in darkness."
Her voice broke. "I'm scared, Kael. I don't know what comes next."
The wind rustled the leaves. Somewhere in the distance, a raven called.
"I'll keep going," she whispered. "I'll make it mean something. I swear."
She placed a small violet stone on the grave, then rose.
Behind her, Elara stood at a distance.
"She would've liked this spot," Elara said, stepping forward.
Evelyn nodded. "She hated crowds."
"I had a dream last night," Elara said softly. "I saw our mother."
Evelyn blinked, surprised. "What was she like?"
"She was smiling. She looked... proud."
Evelyn's throat tightened. "Do you think she forgave us?"
Elara hesitated. "I think she loved us. Even in death."
For a moment, the sisters stood together in silence, the past heavy on their shoulders—but no longer crushing.
That afternoon, a raven arrived bearing a scroll sealed with golden wax.
Evelyn broke it open, her eyes scanning the message. As she read, her hands went cold.
Elara noticed. "What is it?"
Evelyn handed her the scroll. "She's gone."
Lucien stepped closer. "Who?"
"Seraphine," Evelyn said. "She escaped."
Elara frowned. "That's not possible. She was drained of magic."
"Not all of it," Evelyn replied. "She must have hidden a piece of it away. Somewhere even I couldn't sense."
Lucien clenched his jaw. "So she's free."
Evelyn looked toward the horizon, the sky beginning to darken again—not with storms, but with uncertainty.
"She's hiding. But not forever. And when she returns... I'll be ready."
Elara stepped beside her. "We'll be ready."
Evelyn glanced at her. "Together?"
Elara hesitated, then nodded. "Always."
That night, Evelyn lay beneath a blanket of stars, Lucien beside her.
His voice was soft. "Do you regret letting her live?"
She stared upward. "I don't know. Maybe I always will."
"But?"
"But I couldn't become her. Not after everything."
He took her hand. "That's why you're different."
A long silence passed, peaceful and tender.
Evelyn closed her eyes. "We thought ending her would bring peace. But maybe peace isn't the end."
Lucien smiled, brushing her fingers with his thumb. "Then what is it?"
She turned to him. "Maybe it's the beginning."