Ashes still fell like snow.
The ruins of Drathmir smoldered under a dawn sky painted in pale fire. Once a fortress of nightmares, it now lay broken—its towers shattered, its obsidian walls scorched by the magic that had torn the world apart. Silence had settled, not the kind born of peace, but of exhaustion.
Elyra stood on the highest ledge of what remained, cloak torn, skin still glowing faintly from the Flame's embrace. Her eyes were locked on the horizon—where light now broke through clouds that had not parted in years.
The war was over.
But her heart refused to believe it.
Behind her, Kael climbed through the rubble, careful not to disturb the fallen stone. His armor bore scorch marks, his left arm in a sling, but his eyes were only for her.
"You came back," he said softly.
Elyra didn't turn right away.
"I wasn't sure I would."
He stepped beside her. "But you did."
She looked at him then. There were a thousand things in his eyes—relief, sorrow, wonder. Her throat tightened.
"I broke the shard," she whispered. "Ashar is alive, but… the Flame is part of me now. I can feel everything it touches."
Kael's fingers found hers, anchoring her to the moment.
"And what does it feel now?"
She closed her eyes.
"Grief. And hope."
Three Days Later
Astralis was a city of tents and mourning songs.
The victory had cost dearly—hundreds dead, thousands wounded. Healers worked without rest. Families gathered in circles, lighting lanterns for the fallen. The streets once paved in golden stone were streaked with soot and blood.
In the grand temple, Elyra stood before the gathered survivors—leaders, soldiers, common folk. Her voice was hoarse, her body fragile, but the Flame gave her strength.
"We stood against the dark," she said, "and we did not break."
A murmur ran through the crowd.
"But let us not forget who we lost. They fought not for vengeance, but for peace. They lit the path for us to follow."
She raised her hand.
A column of flame rose from the temple's heart—gentle, golden, warming. A Flame of Remembrance.
And across the city, other torches lit in answer.
Kael stood at her side, offering silent strength.
As the people began to sing, Elyra felt the veil lift just a little.
That Night
The garden behind the Flamekeeper's Hall had been untouched by war. Flowers still bloomed, strange birds still called to each other beneath the silvered moon. Elyra sat beneath the old sun-tree, Veilcleaver across her knees.
She didn't hear Kael approach—she just knew.
He settled beside her, placing something between them.
Bread. Cheese. A flask of wine.
"Dinner," he said.
She blinked. "It's… normal."
He shrugged. "We could use some of that."
They ate in silence for a while, savoring the stillness. After everything, words felt small.
Then Kael spoke.
"What happens now?"
Elyra stared up at the stars.
"I don't know," she said. "The Flame wants healing. The land wants peace. But there are wounds even fire can't mend."
He reached over and touched her cheek.
"You'll help them heal."
She leaned into his touch.
"And you?"
"I'll follow you," he said simply.
They kissed then—soft, unhurried, without fire or fear. Just two souls still standing.
One Month Later
The world was changing.
In the east, former soldiers of the Shadow Empire laid down arms and began to rebuild. The forests that had burned started to regrow, guided by the gentle magic Elyra offered through the Flame. Villages lit new hearths, not for war, but for warmth.
Ashar remained in a guarded sanctuary far from the cities—watched, studied, but alive. He spoke rarely, but when he did, it was without venom. Elyra visited once, weeks later. They said little, but when they parted, he whispered:
"Thank you. For saving me."
Elyra's dreams no longer burned with screams. Now they flickered with children's laughter, with flames dancing gently in darkened halls.
In the Flamekeeper's Hall, she and Kael planted a sun-tree sapling. A sign of beginnings.
And when the people gathered once more—this time for a festival, not a funeral—Elyra stood at the center, Veilcleaver on her back, Kael beside her, and the Flame burning brightly in her chest.